Page 128 of Modern Romance Collection May 2024 Books 1-4

“I’m not saying she couldn’t.”

“Except you have it all planned out.” Her heartbeat in her throat so hard it nearly made her choke. “Planned it without talking to me, without thinking about who I am, what I might want, what I could give back.”

He stared at her, his amber eyes glittering. “I have let down my guard with you more than I have anyone else.”

“I know.”

She reached up to lay her hand on his jaw. He pulled back, a fraction of an inch, but it could have been a mile for how much distance it put between them. Hurt, she snatched her hand back and crossed her arms over her chest, the thin silk of her robe cold against her breasts.

“When I get married, I want it to be because I love someone and he loves me. I want it to be a partnership. Not a loveless transaction where I have little to no say. Where the rest of my life is already laid out for me.”

The snap of the ring box closing echoed in the room.

“If there is even the barest hint of that being a possibility, then your answer was the right one.”

Ice dripped from every word. The brutal prince was back in full force, his eyes hard as flint, his face carved from granite.

For one moment, she contemplated telling him what she needed. What she wanted. What could be if she could have just a little time to think, to process.

And then fear raised its ugly head once more, fear and years of pain, of disappointment.

She ignored him and walked back toward the bed. She plucked her sundress off the ground, the sunshine yellow a brutal contrast to how dark she felt inside. She slid out of the robe and pulled her dress on. When she turned back, Julius was watching her, his face cold, one hand wrapped around the ring box.

Silence reigned between them. Both of them so angry. So hurt. Neither willing to yield.

She left the room without saying a word. She didn’t know what else there was left to say. In less than five minutes her one suitcase was packed, the dress stuffed inside in favor of a T-shirt and shorts, her hair pulled back into a bun. She moved to the window and gazed out over the terrace, the beach, the view of the ocean, for the last time.

Her phone felt heavy in her hand as she dialed.

“Esme.” Burak’s voice boomed over the line. “How are—?”

“His Highness is in Grenada. Dove Villa off Prickly Bay.”

Silence followed.

“Burak?”

“What—”

“His Highness was attacked in London. He tracked me down to Grenada and hired me to be his temporary bodyguard while he healed.”

Burak’s expletive echoed from thousands of miles away, followed by a series of rapid-fire questions.

“You’ll have to ask him.”

She hung up, swallowed the guilt that she had just betrayed him and walked out with suitcase in hand. He stood in his doorway, dressed in nothing but lounge pants that hung low on his hips.

“I do owe you thanks,” she said quietly as she neared him.

“You owe me nothing.”

“But I do. If you hadn’t reassigned me, I don’t how long I would have drifted along in a state of complacency.” She smiled sadly. “It was the shock I needed to realize something needed to change in my life.”

He looked down at her suitcase.

“You’re running away again.”

She bristled.

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