Page 121 of Modern Romance Collection May 2024 Books 1-4

She placed a finger over his lips. “I want this, Julius.”

His protests died as her fingers slid beneath the waistband of his silk pants. She unveiled his hard length, her hands teasing, her smile confident and glorious as she lowered her head and took him in her mouth. He groaned, his hands sliding into her hair as she ran her tongue over him, kissed him, brought him to the edge of control.

Her throaty chuckle nearly undid him. She moved, rising above him like a flame-haired siren as she straddled his lap and guided him inside her wet heat. Her body closed around him as she placed her hands on his chest and started to move. His hands closed over her waist, guided her as she rode him.

Lightning flashed. Thunder crashed. They both soared over the peak, her cries of pleasure mingling with his groan as she collapsed against him.

Julius awoke to sun streaming in through the windows and an empty bed. Unease sent a jolt of energy through him. He’d fallen asleep with Esmerelda in his arms, her face relaxed and content. Had she awoken and, satisfied with their one night, left? Or had she had second thoughts?

One way to find out.

He tossed back the covers and stood. He was in the process of pulling on a pair of shorts when the door to his room opened.

“Good morning.”

Esmerelda walked into the room carrying two cups of coffee. With another sundress on, this one the color of bright lemons, her hair falling wild and untamed about her face, she looked relaxed. More herself, he realized with a satisfied smile as his apprehension slipped away. He accepted a mug and took a deep sip.

“I wondered where you were,” he said. He leaned down and kissed her, satisfaction curling through him when she didn’t pull away.

“I’m used to rising early,” she said with a small smile. “Back in Rodina I had to get up at five a.m. in order to be ready for the day.”

“Was that the time I set?”

“It was.”

He grimaced. “Bastard.”

She reached over and laid a hand on top of his.

“You owe it to your past self to give him a break. No, he wasn’t the warmest and fuzziest of princes,” she said with a small smile, “but he ruled and did very well for the people of Rodina.”

“So you’ve said.”

She stared down into her coffee mug, her sudden silence cluing him in that something was on her mind.

“What are you thinking?”

“One of the times I prompted you to take a break, you told me you couldn’t. That there was work to be done. I said the work would still be there in five minutes.” She looked at him then, sadness making the green of her eyes all the more vivid. “You said it would, but you might not be. That life was short and you had a duty to do your job while you could.”

“My mother.”

Just thinking of Elizabeth made his pulse pound in his throat.

“I believe so.” Her hand settled on his once more.

They sat. Sadness permeated the air, but it wasn’t unpleasant. It was healing, revisiting the memories he had reclaimed, finally allowing himself the chance to grieve as he suspected he never had.

“A conclusion I came to myself a couple days ago. I chose duty over grief. Logic over emotion.”

“Understandable.”

“For a time. But then it became comfortable. Easy.” He squeezed her fingers. “I retreated into my indifference. It was cowardly.”

“Cowardly.” She echoed his word with a slight smile. “I was cowardly, too.”

“How so?”

“I was very good at being a bodyguard. I’m active, I kept in good shape. I genuinely love Rodina, so serving in a role that helped me serve my country was appealing. But it also allowed me to put off examining my life. Figuring out what I wanted to do for me.” She scoffed. “Isn’t it awful that sometimes staying in the rhythm of past mistakes is easier than trying something new that could make you happier?”

---