Page 126 of Modern Romance Collection December 2024 Books 5-8

‘That is a cruel lie,’ she choked out. ‘I saw her this morning.’ Her face twisted in confusion. ‘Why would you say that? Lie like that?’

‘It is the truth.’

‘It is a lie,’ she accused.

‘It is not.’

‘It has to be...’ Her face blanched. ‘Who the hell are you?’

‘My name,’ he announced, ‘is Dante Cappetta.’

Frowning, she asked, ‘Is that supposed to mean something?’

‘It should,’ he said, and watched.

‘Why?’Confusion spread across her tightly drawn cheeks. ‘Who are you to me?’

‘I’m your next of kin.’

Her blue eyes narrowed.‘What?’

‘Your husband,’ he clarified. And he loathed the raw edge to each word.

‘My what?’

She stared at him open-mouthed, and he stared right back. Waited for the magic man behind the curtain to appear. But no one was there. She needed him, didn’t she? No lies. No pretence...

‘I’m your husband, Emma.’

‘What kind of prank is this?’ Anger churned in Emma’s gut. ‘You walk in here, tell me my mother is gone and proclaim yourself as—’

‘Your husband,’ he interjected smoothly.

‘Is this how you get your kicks?’ she spat. ‘Do you roam around hospitals looking for vulnerable women? Do you convince them their only family is dead and prey on their tears?’

‘You are not crying.’

Adrenaline burst inside her.

‘And you’renotmy husband,’ she continued, and choked on the absurdity of each syllable. ‘You are nothing to me,’ she finished, because it was the truth, the only truth she’d accept.

‘I am your husband,’ he said again.

She froze, not breathing, not moving. But her skin prickled. Her mind buzzed.

Her eyes travelled over the crisp, dark suit moulded to his body. A verydefinedbody.The open-collared shirt beneath his jacket hugged his chest and revealed a thick, muscular throat.

She moved her gaze back to his face. Perfectly symmetrical, with high cheekbones, a powerful jaw and a noble nose. And his eyes were so dark, so deep, she could fall into them.

‘It’s impossible,’ she breathed. Because it was. She didn’t recognise a single inch of him. She didn’t know this man. ‘I don’t have a husband,’ she declared. ‘I have never been, and never will be, married.’

‘And yet you are married,’ he contradicted smoothly.Too smoothly.‘To me.’

‘Ridiculous!’ she said, because it was.

Emma knew the truth.

She knew that love was not the fairy tale everyone said it was. She’d seen that first-hand, watched her mother wither under her father’s supposed love.

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