Page 233 of Modern Romance Collection December 2024 Books 5-8

His reaction to stress had always been to come out fighting, and his almost omnipresent state of anger with his father, and with the women who became his stepmothers, had left no room for nerves.

Until now.

He glanced up to the top of the staircase, and then swore softly as he realised what he’d done because he must have already looked up in anticipation of seeing Sydney there at least thirty times. And he didn’t know why it mattered so much that she saw him looking up at her. He just knew that was what he wanted to do, and that waiting for her was making his stomach churn as if he were some gangly schoolboy on his first prom date.

Except he had been to plenty of proms and the girls had always been eager and ready. Was that why he was feeling so on edge? Because, inevitably, Sydney was making him wait and waiting was such an unfamiliar experience for him.

Maybe. But mostly he was nervous on her account.

He put the box down.

He had been telling her the truth when he said that the ball was just a party, but he knew that it would be intimidating and he wanted to give her this night. Wanted it to feel like a dream and for her to enjoy it and for her to shine, to recognise her own value.

His spine stiffened as he searched inside himself for the anger that had been a part of him for so long, but it was gone. Okay, he was angry with Harris for what he’d done. Mostly for what he’d done to Sydney, exploiting her like that. But it was a different kind of rage. It was clean, righteous, and, this was the biggest change, it was impermanent. Always before, his anger had been limitless and he’d never understood why. His whole life there had been no one to ask. His father, his stepmothers, his teachers, everyone had just seen the consequences, not the cause.

Only Sydney had bothered to ask. She had sat and listened and now he could see that his anger was just a form of weaponised fear. Fear of repeating his father’s mistakes, of being used then abandoned. Of being part of someone’s life and yet ultimately alone.

He didn’t feel alone now. Or angry.

Here with Sydney, he felt relaxed, comfortable in his skin. Extremely comfortable in her skin too. Happy, basically—

His arms prickled and he saw something at the periphery of his vision and he turned, tilting his head back, and all the thoughts slid sideways, colliding with one another inside his head.

Sydney hadn’t shown him which dress she was going to wear, but given her nerves he’d assumed it would be something subtle.

She had gone bold. His eyes skimmed the rippling burnt-orange silk. No, it was more than bold. It was fearless, she was as fearless as a goddess, and just as beautiful.

‘Don’t talk to me,’ she said, gripping the banister as she picked her way down the staircase. ‘I have to concentrate otherwise I’m going to trip.’

As she reached the bottom of the stairs, he held out his hand, and she snatched it.

Their eyes met and, tilting her chin up, she smiled, and he smiled too because she knew she looked good and he liked that. But his opinion mattered to her. And he liked that too. He liked that a lot.

‘You look good,’ she said then.

And he was still so stunned that he just said, ‘Thank you.’

Her face scrunched a little. ‘I’m the one that should be thanking you.’

‘For what?’

‘For getting someone in to do my make-up and hair.’ He glanced up to where her glorious red hair was coiled into some bouffant updo. ‘And for this.’ She smoothed a hand over the shimmering skirt. ‘I’ve never worn anything so beautiful.’

His gaze moved over her face. He hadn’t even noticed the make-up, but now, glancing down at her glossy lips, he wanted badly to kiss her.

‘You look stunning.’ His fingers tightened. ‘I wanted to say that before... I was going to but...anyway, you look incredible, honestly, you look—’

‘Oh, sei bellissima, Signora—’

It was Silvana, her hands fluttering to her cheeks, and he felt a rush of relief that she had arrived to stop him stammering like a schoolboy. And he hadn’t felt this out of control since he was a kid. Had never wanted to feel out of control. That was why he lived as he did. Never committing, never allowing himself to care. Only he did care about Sydney. And that should be scaring him.

Then again, what was there to worry about? In a couple of days, they would go their separate ways, and his life would be back on track.

He cleared his throat. ‘We should go.’

Sydney turned from where she was still being admired by Silvana and the maids.

‘But first I have something for you for tonight.’ He picked up the rectangular box he’d been clutching earlier. ‘I didn’t know what you were wearing so I went for diamonds because they go with everything.’

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