Page 137 of Modern Romance Collection December 2024 Books 5-8

Thiswas the reason she’d never wanted to be in a relationship. To be a woman who believed one day her prince would come.

Life wasn’t one of her mother’s romance books.

Emma could take care of herself.

Was she making the right choice to trust her gut? To stay?To wait?Was an escape plan enough to protect her? Because despite everything she knew, everything she’d seen her father do to her mother, the instinct was to wait for Dante. For her husband.

She’d run away from him the other night, up the spiralling staircase, through the door on the left, into the bedroom, because her body knew too much.Wantedtoo much. And that want was consuming her.

The private jet engines roared, a signal that the person everyone was waiting for was close.

The goldish-beige leather armrest surrendered to the pressure of Emma’s fingertips, and it whimpered.

Dante stood at the end of the aisle aboard the private jet. He walked towards her, and he stole her breath. He wore a black shirt, open to his chest. Exposing his throat. His skin. He’d rolled up the cuffs, exposing his forearms too. Thick and strong, lightly spattered with dark hair. A black silver-buckled belt wrapped around his lean hips, accentuating the black fabric hugging his thick thighs.

She hadn’t imagined it. She hadn’t built up their interaction in her head. He was everything her confused mind remembered.

He was the sun.

And despite everything, she wanted to run towards it, into its warmth.

The desire to do just that was primitive and loud. Her body screamed for her to stand, to meet him. And it felt so natural for her to want to surrender to the strength of her body’s reaction to him, and forget the doubts, the questions, thewaiting, and welcome him back with her lips on his.

He sat down beside her. Too close, and yet it wasn’t close enough.

What was wrong with her?

He’d walked into the hospital and claimed her. Turned her world upside down. Turnedherinside out and left her alone to sort out the chaos inside her.

‘Emma,’ Dante greeted, and her name was a caress. Pure silk. But it didn’t soothe her. It chafed against her skin.

How dare he be so...relaxed?He’d kept her waiting. Hadn’t told her where he’d gone or where he’d be. He’d just expected her to wait—to be here—and be happy when he came back.

And yet, wasn’t that exactly what she’d asked of him—to allow her space.

A rage settled in her chest. ‘Where have you been?’

He clipped himself in. ‘In my hotel.’

She knew he was wealthy. But... ‘Your hotel?’

‘One of several hundred.’ Dante signalled for the plane to depart with a nod and a flick of his elegant wrist.

Emma’s blood roared. ‘Where are we going?’ she demanded.

He didn’t flinch. But he moved. His hands went to her waist and his knuckles brushed her hip bone, feathered across her stomach as he clipped her in. She swallowed down the rumble inside her, the gasp in her throat. She had been told this morning that they were going on a trip. But she had no more details than that. She’d been told nothing.

She hadn’t even packed her own bags. Not that she would have even known what to pack. Nothing in the wardrobe felt like hers.

Dante sat back in his seat, observing her with quiet intensity. ‘Japan.’

She arched a brow beneath her fringe. ‘Japan?’

The jet taxied down the small airstrip.

‘Tokyo.’

‘And what’s in Tokyo?’

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