Page 160 of Modern Romance June 2025 1-4

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There was something about the woman at the bar that called to Emilio. That made her shine as if a spotlight had been cast only on her, despite the still-strobing lights of the club. Emilio hadn’t gone out seeking company, but this woman blew straight through that. He hadn’t been able to look away since she’d walked in.

She kept twirling a lock of her curly, blonde hair. Emilio’s hand itched with the need to feel it for himself. He watched her drink the last of her wine and place the glass down, drawing patterns in the condensation.

He could take it no more. On impulse, he drained what was left of his negroni and walked to the bar. Standing beside her, he silently hailed the bar tender.

‘A negroni for me and a wine for her.’

The barman nodded but a cleared throat made both men turn.

‘Excuse me?’ The woman cocked her brow. Emilio felt her appraising gaze rake over his body from head to toe and back. Normally it was the kind of look that gave him satisfaction. An indicator of exactly what was to come right after: no-strings sex. This time he felt something else, his heart hammering at the sight of her: the perfect corkscrew curls that hung below her shoulders, framing a face that took his breath away; hazel eyes that were a nearly even mix of green and brown. And that mouth… Full, pillowy lips that beckoned him closer. When she licked them, he almost fell to his knees.

Emilio had seen beautiful women before, but he’d never reacted to them quite like this.

Then she spoke, breaking his reverie. ‘I’ll have a martini,’ she said, her eyes never leaving his.

Emilio smiled. He liked a challenge. And pleasure was always a welcome distraction.

‘You know, it’s a crime for a woman as beautiful as yourself to be drinking alone.’

She laughed, a vibrant and carefree sound that Emilio wanted to hear again. How long had it been since he’d had genuine laughter in his life? He couldn’t think of much to be happy about lately.

‘Is that the best you can do?’

‘No,’ Emilio replied, leaning his elbow on the bar, the picture of casual confidence. ‘I just told you the truth. I don’t need pick-up lines.’

‘You’re awfully sure of yourself,’ she said with a smile that was entirely contagious. Emilio could feel one spreading across his own face.

He shrugged in response, pleased to see her swivel on her stool to face him.

‘You look familiar,’ she said. ‘But I’m not sure we’ve met.’

‘You don’t know who I am?’ Emilio asked, quietly hopeful that she didn’t and that she would still want to join him, nevertheless. Still want to choose him, even if he were just another person and not a De Luca.

Like Gia wanted?

‘I can’t say that I do,’ she replied.

‘Let’s keep it that way. You can just call me Emilio.’ He held out a hand.

‘Jasmine,’ she said, taking it.

Emilio brought her hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles. ‘Nice to meet you, Jasmine.’

‘And you, Emilio.’

The way she said his name did something to him. Suddenly, he wanted to make this night last as long as possible. He wanted time to bask in this connection with the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. ‘Would you care to join me at my table?’

CHAPTER TWO

All Jasmine hadreally known when she had got dressed and left her apartment was that she was determined to have a good time. At no point had she thought that ‘good time’ would include joining the most attractive man she had ever encountered for drinks but, now that she was faced with Emilio, she couldn’t say no. Something inside her wouldn’t let her. She always let her head make decisions. Logic was her guiding principle; it was how she managed to achieve her goals. But tonight a gut feeling told her that being in Emilio’s company was imperative. That she couldn’t pass up this opportunity.

She picked up her martini, catching the bar tender’s smirk, and turned to face Emilio.

‘Well, lead the way.’

He reached past her to grab his own drink. His arm lightly brushed against Jasmine’s as he did so, igniting a flurry of sparks in her belly that decimated all thought in her head.

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