Page 48 of Modern Romance Collection December 2024 Books 5-8

He didn’t respond, didn’t turn around, his only reaction the way his back muscles tensed.

She turned and walked to the lift, without saying any more.

But as she washed the scent of him off her body in the guest room’s power shower, the raw feeling remained. Her body felt sore, tender, and well used—but also more alive than it had ever felt before.

Worse somehow, though, was the painful regret—that she had hurt him somehow with her silence, without intending to—and that fierce yearning, to know him, to understand him and to nurture the strange connection between them, which she now knew had always been more than just physical for her.

It was a realisation that scared her to her core.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

TRAVISFLIPPEDTHEgrilled cheese sandwich in the pan, then stiffened as he heard a throat clear nervously behind him.

He turned to find the woman he’d been thinking about all night standing in the living area, looking guarded—and hot—in a pair of tailored pants and a simple sweater. She’d tied her hair in a ponytail, her fresh skin devoid of make-up... Which only made her look more artless. And innocent.

Probably because she was, you chump.

The fierce possessiveness that had freaked him out the night before hit him all over again.

‘Good morning,’ she said, with her perfect manners, which he now knew were a cover for an emotional intelligence he lacked.

He cleared his own throat. ‘Hi,’ he murmured. ‘And merry Christmas.’

‘Yes, merry Christmas,’ she replied with about as much enthusiasm as he felt, which wasn’t much.

He swung back to the stove and pulled the grilled cheese off the heat. He was a master of no-stress mornings after. Because he’d had a lot of practice at striking the perfect balance between ‘I’ve had fun’ and ‘I’m out of here now’.

But he’d screwed up so badly last night, this threatened to be the most awkward morning after in the history of the world ever.

He’d made an ass out of himself. He’d browbeaten Belle, when the person he’d really been mad with was himself. For not reading all the signs that had been staring him in the face since he’d met her.

The tentative, curious way she’d kissed him that first time in her office... The eager passion of their stunt kiss in Sariyelva—which hadn’t felt like a stunt the minute he’d put his mouth on hers. The artless passion that had overwhelmed her on their wedding night, then the way she’d panicked and run out. Her vibrant, vivid but totally unstudied responses to him yesterday—which had blindsided them both.

He should have figured out he was the first guy to touch her—but he’d enjoyed her responses so damn much he’d chosen to ignore the signs to satisfy his own lust. So whose fault was it really that taking her virginity had turned this relationship into a much bigger deal than it was supposed to be, and turned him into as big a bastard as his old man?

‘How is your knee?’ she asked, the caution in her voice making him hate himself that much more.

‘Good. How are you doing?’ he asked. ‘Not too sore?’

‘Oh... No... It’s... I’m fine,’ she said, her cheeks lighting up like the Christmas tree behind her as the awkward quotient hit a hundred. ‘You were very careful.’

‘Not as careful as I should have been,’ he murmured. ‘And I behaved like a jackass afterwards,’ he continued, trying to get the knots in his gut to untangle.

He could see he’d surprised her, even as she tried to cover her shock.

‘Which is why I’ve got a peace offering for you this morning,’ he continued, sliding the grilled cheese sandwiches onto the plates he’d laid out on the breakfast bar. ‘Take a load off and dig in.’

He took one of the stools on his side of the kitchen island and pushed her plate and cutlery across to her side.

She hesitated, clearly unsure of his mood. He knew how she felt. He wasn’t super sure of his mood either. He’d never felt this awkward or exposed before. But then he’d never been a woman’s first lover either.

‘It’s okay, Belle. I promise I won’t bite you,’ he said as he grabbed his fork and started chunking up his sandwich. ‘Not unless you ask me to,’ he added, trying to lighten the mood.

She blushed—because of course she did—but relief crossed her features.

And he wanted to kick himself some more, for trying to make her feel bad when he was the one who hadn’t been able to get his reaction to her virginity into perspective.

He wasn’t even sure what had made him feel so raw. Clearly, he had more hang-ups about his old man than he’d ever realised. Plus, Christmas Day had always made him feel kind of crap about himself after the way he’d treated his mom that last Christmas. But even so, his knee-jerk freak-out—and the weird surge of emotion that he was pretty sure had helped trigger it—didn’t make a whole lot of sense.

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