Page 141 of Modern Romance October 2025 5-8
‘It’shuge,’ she couldn’t help herself from saying and he bit back a retort that would have had them both in hot water.
‘As we missed dinner, I’ve arranged for something to eat back up on the sun deck, in say...thirty minutes?’
‘Uh-huh,’ she said, not quite paying attention as she walked around the spacious room with the double bed and the large sofa, chairs, and coffee table, opposite a desk and the wardrobe where her bags had been unpacked for her already.
‘Then I’ll see you soon,’ he said with a smile, backing away from her room. He enjoyed making her speechless with his wealth. Because it revealed her true colours. Oh yes, he was very much looking forward to playing this game with Erin Carter.
Erin wasn’t entirelyunfamiliarwith money. Before her father had sold the family business, they’d been one of the wealthiest families in London. With an address in Mayfair, she’d been to school at St Paul’s Girls, and it had taken her father just the first fifteen years of her life to burn through the money and assets he had inherited.
Charles Edward Carter had made the grave mistake of falling foul of believing his own hype; that bluff and bluster could hide his own mediocrity and bad business sense. He’d chased one dream after another until finally, one too many bad investments brought debt-collector to their door.
Oh, nothing so uncouth as large scary men in black clothing with rough accents. No, this creditor was as eloquent as her father. He’d worn a suit, just like her father. And he’d smiled while he’d stripped them of every single one of their assets, except the house that had been put in her mother’s name down in Cornwall.
So, Erin Carterdidremember a time when money was rife. But this? She swallowed as she walked, wide-eyed, around the spacious suite that would fit nearly the entire top floor of her mother’s house in Falmouth inside it.
And yes, in some respects, Erin had her own money—from the sale of the HomeJames. She had just over one million pounds sitting in her bank account. But that money was earmarked for Charterhouse. She’d never even really considered ithersgiven that it would take every penny of that money to bring the small publishing company back to life and regain all that her father had cost her and her mother.
She pushed through to the en suite bathroom, with a claw tub. A claw tub! The Art Deco mirror above a basin so large she could wash her hair in it was nothing short of beautiful. Shaking her head, she returned to the main suite and collapsed onto the impossibly soft bed.
And he didn’t evenownthis. He just rented it for the summer.
She shook her head in awe. Enzo really got all this wealth just from his parents? she wondered, surprised. Yes, she knew that his father had been an actor with a series of wildly successful films in his heyday. But these days he was known more for the increasingly younger women he dated. And his mother, Gio’s daughter—strikingly beautiful, dark hair and unusually pale skin—had been cut off from the family coffers when Gio disowned her following her marriage to Luca Rossetti.
Was it possible that there was more to Enzo than he portrayed? So far she’d seen the daredevil, the itinerant playboy, the autocratic charmer...but there was nothing mean in his carelessness, not intentionally so. She sensed nothingcruelabout him.
She sank back into the bed. The last few days had been a whirlwind. And really, the hard work was only just beginning. Tomorrow, she’d have to set out to snare more than just the Playboy of Amalfi’s attentions. She needed his ring.
She rubbed a hand over her sternum, willing away any sense of guilt she may have had. She needed to do this. For her mother, for herself. Sheneededto. So that she would never experience again the kind of hurt and betrayal that her father had shown her.
She sighed and checked her watch. If she wasreallyquick, perhaps she could have a bath in that amazing tub before heading back up for dinner.
Thirty minutes later, punctual because Erin couldn’t concede that personality trait to Rin, she arrived on the deck in a dress from Rin’s side of the closet, determined to kick things into gear now that she was that much closer to getting what she needed.
The burnt orange silk of her dress pressed seductively against her skin from the warm breeze that flowed around the upper deck, as she exited the glass elevator and she stopped in her tracks when she saw what awaited her.
Enzo stood with a bottle of champagne beside a table set for two with a thick white tablecloth, twinkling glasses and rose petals scattered everywhere.
Her hand flew to her mouth to stifle the gasp of genuine shock. Because while in some ways it was beautiful, it was also as if Cupid had gotten a little carried away with himself. Garlands of red flowers hung in strands, amongst fairy lights that changed from white to red. There were even paper love hearts strewn about the deck, pressed up against pink lanterns.
‘Champagne?’ Enzo asked exuberantly.
‘Yes please,’ she squeaked, coughing to clear the shock from her throat.
Enzo popped the bottle and poured the champagne into two flutes, thoroughly pleased with himself.
‘Do you think it’s perhaps a little too much?’ Frederick, the deck-hand, had asked when he’d stood back to admire their efforts.
‘Absolutely,’ Enzo had replied. ‘It’sperfect!’
He wanted to drown her in romance, pretend to be the besotted fool all just to convince her that she had him dangling on her hook. He wanted nothing to jeopardise his own plan of vengeance.
‘What do you think?’ Enzo asked Rin now.
‘It’s...’ She swallowed. ‘Very romantic,’ she said as if it was anything but.
‘Just what I was aiming for,’ Enzo replied truthfully.
He passed her a flute and raised his in a toast.
