Page 46 of Modern Romance September 2025 1-4
‘I do not appreciate ultimatums, Mr Zakynthos.’ The frost in her voice could rime the table between us.
‘Seems petty of you,’ I murmur, deliberately goading her. ‘All I’m asking for is time.’
‘Six months is not—’
‘It doesn’t need to be consecutive. An hour here, an evening there…’ I pause then add, ‘Perhaps you’ll even give me a night once in a while.’
She is silent a moment, her arms folded, her gaze stern and not a little judgmental. I don’t mind. Many people judge me, but I don’t care about them. The only person whose opinion I care about—the onlypersonI care about—is Olympia, my little sister. I would tear down the world for her if she asked. Luckily, she has never asked.
‘I thought you weren’t going to bargain,’ Katla says and this time she’s the one raising an eloquent eyebrow.
Little witch. She’s not wrong. Iambargaining with her now. Telling her she doesn’t have to take my six months consecutively wasnotthe plan and I do not like deviating from a plan. The plan is for a six-month relationship—her available whenever I want her—so I can immerse myself fully in her. Experience her absolutely until there is nothing more to experience.
I’m not insisting because she denied me, but because she fascinates me. I have never met a woman so icy on the surface and yet, despite all that ice, hot down deep. There’s lava inside her; I can see it glowing in her eyes.
‘I’m not doing this because you refused me,’ I say, because perhaps after all Idocare just a little what she thinks of me. ‘I’m doing this because I want you. You, Ms Sigurdsdottir. Your body and your mind.’
She stares, her gaze uncannily perceptive. ‘Does that line work with other women, Mr Zakynthos? Because it doesn’t work with me.’
Oh, she is delightful. Utterly delightful. I love a formidable woman and she is everything I’d hoped she’d be and more. But I’m conscious that time is ticking away. I promised Olympia I’d be home for Christmas Eve, and I’m already more than late with my little detour to LA. I need to move this meeting along.
I push myself from my chair and stroll down the length of the table. She might not want to test our attraction, but I do. A small demonstration is in order, both to confirm for myself that she wants me and to prove it to her if need be.
She regards me suspiciously as I approach. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Conducting a test.’ I move round to stand in front of her, the meeting table behind her, not too close, not just yet. ‘If you can swear that you are utterly unmoved by me, I’ll let you go back to your little party. And I’ll leave you and Tanaka Solar alone.’
She gives me a belligerent look. ‘Alone completely? You won’t come back and stage a takeover?’
I incline my head. ‘I will not.’ And I won’t. I’m a man of my word.
She is silent, her expression an icy mask. She’s trying to freeze me out, I can see that, but I can also see the glow in the depths of her eyes and that blush… I’m bringing out that colour in her—that’s all me.
‘I’m not interested in tests,’ she says coldly.
‘But you are interested in me leaving, are you not?’ I take a step closer. ‘Just as you are interested in proving how indifferent you are to me.’
She doesn’t move, though her mouth is in a hard line. ‘Fine,’ she says. ‘Conduct your little test, then.’
Her condescension is adorable. She clearly thinks she’s going to past this test with flying colours and ‘that’ll teach me’. Sadly, it will not. All it will teach her is the depth of her own self-deception.
I reach out and gently slide the reindeer-antler headband from her head. She doesn’t move, but her eyes widen, as if she hadn’t been expecting that as my first move. Excellent. The more I surprise her, the better this will be. Leaning forward, I lay the headband on the table behind her then leave my hand resting on the table top. This brings me closer and her eyes go even wider.
She smells as good as she looks, like sea salt and flowers, and I want to taste her skin, taste that luscious mouth. But I’m not going to touch her—not now, not yet. I’m only going to get closer and watch her melt like ice-cream in the sun.
Her gaze wavers, her pupils dilating as I extend my other hand to the table behind her, caging her with my body against the edge of it. We’re not touching, not any part of us, but I can feel the heat she’s putting out and she can feel mine.
I don’t move. I merely look at her, studying the blush that stains her cheekbones, listening to her breathing getting faster.
‘Is that it?’ She’s full of bravado and doesn’t look away. ‘Please forgive me if I don’t fall swooning into your arms.’
‘But you’re breathing fast,’ I murmur. ‘And your pupils have dilated.’
‘So?’ She isn’t making any attempt to get away from me, hellbent on proving exactly how uninterested she is. Except it’s not working.
‘Do you habitually lie to yourself, my ice queen?’ I lower my head a touch, not too close, but close enough to see the growing darkness in her eyes. ‘Surely you must know that those are physical signs of desire?’
‘Or fear,’ she returns.
