Page 56 of Modern Romance September 2025 1-4
But, looking at her lovely face and seeing the expression in her blue eyes, remembering the tenor of our conversations, it’s clear she’s not a game player at all. There’s an open honesty to her that demands honesty in return.
It’s simplistic, in a way, but I’ve become used to games and manipulation because that’s business. And I confess I’ve brought those same manipulative games to my dealings with people too. Usually, that kind of awareness doesn’t bother me, because I don’t care much for other people’s feelings, but…
There is something brave about Katla, sitting opposite me, so prim and serious. And…genuine. She has a reputation in the business world for being sincere, forthright and loyal, and I can see the evidence of that staring back at me now.
It makes me want to be the same.
‘Very well.’ I put down my Scotch and lean forward, elbows on my knees, my hands clasped. ‘You know the truth of how I feel. I’ve always been honest about that. But I promise that there will be no more games, nor will I use your desire against you. In fact, I’ll go further—nothing sexual will happen between us unless you ask me for it explicitly.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
Katla
I stare intoUlysses’s molten gaze, studying him. Is he telling me the truth or is he lying? Yes, he’s been honest about his desires and about what he wants from me, but I’m unsure about his honesty now. He said he wasn’t playing games, but his promise seemed casual and offhand, as if he thought it unimportant. Yet now he’s leaning forward, his gaze pinned to mine, telling me nothing sexual will happen between us unless I ask for it.
Which do I believe—his manner, his words or his actions?
Mr Tanaka and I investigated him when he first started making moves against Tanaka Solar, but the information we found was only about his business practices. ‘Ruthless’ was the word many people used. ‘Brilliant’ was another. ‘Merciless’, a third. That tells me nothing about what he’s like as a man and I’m curious now; I can’t help it. I want to know why he’s so ruthless. Why he seems so honest, yet as if he’s playing games at the same time. Why his actions are both aggressive and protective, his manner almost…playful.
Being curious is probably to my detriment, but I want to believe him. I want to tell him the truth. He’s asked me about my feelings for him a few times now, point blank, and I haven’t answered, which seems hypocritical of me. I also don’t like the thought that I’ve been drawn into his games, that I’m using his desire for me as a way to gain back some power. It feels dishonest.
‘I might not ask,’ I tell him after a moment.
‘You might not,’ he agrees, his gaze piercing.
‘I still don’t trust you,’ I warn, just so he knows.
He doesn’t seem offended. ‘I understand.’
Silence falls and I know I have to answer him. I have to give him the same honesty he’s giving me, no matter that I dislike him. No matter that he’s arrogant and demanding. No matter about his threats to Tanaka Solar.
‘Very well,’ I say at last, reluctantly. ‘You’re right. I am…attracted to you.’
One side of his mouth curves and there’s satisfaction in it. But oddly the satisfaction doesn’t annoy me. It pleases me that he’s pleased.
‘You liked the kiss,’ he says.
‘Is that a question or a statement?’
‘A statement.’ He leans back in his seat again, picks up his Scotch from the small table beside his elbow and sips it. His long legs are stretched out in front of him, his powerful body at rest, and there’s something about him lounging like this, lazy as a panther, that makes my mouth go dry.
‘Yes,’ I say, because I told myself I’d tell him the truth. ‘I did like it. It also took approximately thirty seconds,’ I add, which is being unnecessarily pedantic but I want him know. ‘You can deduct that time from my six months.’
This time his whole mouth curves and his eyes gleam. It doesn’t feel like night in the jet any more, but as if daylight has come and is streaming through the windows. My stomach tightens and my breath catches. He is so very beautiful.
‘Were you counting?’ he asks, heat in the look he gives me.
‘No,’ I say candidly, because I wasn’t in any position to count when he kissed me. ‘It’s an estimate. Kisses are usually ten seconds, but in the car it was longer.’
‘I see,’ he murmurs. ‘Who the hell have you been kissing that it only takes ten seconds?’
‘John,’ I say, then add for completeness’s sake, ‘Sex takes ten minutes.’
Ulysses blinks and a little arrow of pleasure pierces me that once again I’ve managed to surprise him.
‘Ten minutes,’ he says blankly, as if the words have no meaning.
‘Sometimes less.’ I relax in my seat at last because, as it turns out, I do trust his word. He promised nothing would happen unless I asked and I believe him.
