Page 141 of Modern Romance January 2025 1-4

‘They’re beautiful,’ she said, honestly.

‘No, they’re not,’ he laughed gruffly. ‘They’re quite possibly some of the ugliest marine animals to exist, but they’re endangered, and harmless, and this is their home.’

She threw him an exasperated look. ‘How can you call them ugly?’ She pointed to one seal, out on a more distant rock, who was almost glaring at the others. ‘Look, that one even reminds me of someone,’ she said, tapping a finger exaggeratedly to her chin. ‘Dark hair, soulful eyes, brooding expression...’

‘Careful, wife. I will find ways to make you pay for that.’

She laughed with delight, and he ignored the strange tightening in his chest. He was playing a part, that was all. Making her relax to see that they could make co-parenthood work. He was just doing it so well that sometimes even he forgot his main priority was ensuring his place on the throne.

‘Soulful eyes?’ he muttered, as she stood, dusting her hands on the front of her pants and coming to stand with him. ‘Really?’

‘Sure. When you’re not staring daggers at me, I’d say they’re very soulful.’

‘Is that what I do?’

‘All the time.’ She lifted her hand and cupped his cheek; their height difference meant she had to stand on the tips of her toes and her breasts crushed against his chest. Suddenly, he regretted the impulse to suggest this hike. He wanted to be home with her. Then again, what did four walls and a mattress matter? This island was private; she was his wife. Anticipation began to tighten in his body. ‘At least, you used to.’

His gut churned. He didn’t like her use of the past tense. Rather, he didn’t like the supposition that anything between them had fundamentally changed.

And yet it had.

When they returned to Cavalonia, he hoped it would be with her agreement to try for a baby, and he hoped that was something they’d be able to achieve, and do together, without the animosity they’d shared for so long impacting the baby’s life. But this was not the beginning of a relationship. He needed her to understand that, even as he knew he couldn’t say anything that would jeopardise this tenuous peace they’d forged. He simply had to trust his ability to manage things as required. He didn’t want to hurt Rosalind. When they were back in Cavalonia, he’d work out how to establish the necessary boundaries to create the kind of relationship with which he was comfortable, and he would do so delicately, respecting whatever she might want at that point.

Satisfied that he could manage this, and that his intentions were better than at times he suspected, he wrapped his arms around her waist and held her to his chest.

‘Want to swim?’

She glanced towards the water, her body beaded in a fine covering of perspiration. ‘Yes,’ she agreed without hesitation. ‘I’d like that.’

The water was even better than she’d hoped. Having walked all morning, her body was sore and her skin over-warm. She sank into the sea gratefully, flipping onto her back and spreading her arms and legs like a starfish, floating and staring up at the sky. She could hear Sebastian near her, the sound of his feet underwater causing little ripples that vibrated all around.

They were not so deep that he couldn’t stand, and she wasn’t at all surprised when his fingers curved around her ankles and drew her to his waist, wrapping her legs around him easily. She smiled at the feeling of nearness, of his proximity to her; she simply smiled because she was happy.

His hand came around her spine, lifting her from the water, and then he kissed her, the taste of the ocean mingling with the now-familiar rush of adrenaline that filled her body and mouth when they came together.

She wasn’t sure she’d ever grow tired of this, and the prospect of trying for a baby was now something she relished.

Except—

Again, she remembered the way he’d spoken of his hatred, and how it had fuelled him, and she shivered despite the sensual warmth flooding her, because it was a darkness so totally unfamiliar to her, so troubling for how easily he’d allowed it to motivate him.

His hand ran down her spine, and slipped inside the elastic of her underpants, making it hard to hold on to that thought. She would wade through her perceptions another time, not now. Now was for this, for pleasure, for enjoyment. He spun her around as he kissed her, and dipped them lower into the water, so they were buried to their necks, his touch running over her. Here in the ocean, beneath the surface, there was a weightlessness to the experience and yet somehow, every graze of his skin against hers seemed hyper-charged. Or perhaps it was that she was hypersensitive? When he squeezed her nipples, she cried out in agony and ecstasy, the delirious pleasure-pain almost impossible to bear, but it was quickly overwhelmed by sheer delight as he moved his hand between her legs and found the piece of her that seemed to guarantee, always, pleasure, when he was mastering her.

His name was an incantation, and surrounded by the ocean, bathed in sunlight and watched by the forest of this ancient land, it seemed to take on an almost primeval magic. It was as though every time she said his name, something stirred in the bones of this place, something sacred and special, something that forged a new part of her, a strength, an understanding, a need she accepted now only Sebastian could answer.

It was enough to terrify her, but not then. Then, she simply surrendered to it, but in the back of her mind, she knew she was moving dangerously close to experiencing what her father had invoked in the women he’d used to forget his grief, the women she’d always promised herself she’d never be like.

But Sebastian wasn’t using her. No more than she was using him.

They’d both been honest about what they wanted; there was no harm here. They were getting to know one another, and if doing so resulted in a mutual need, then so what? They’d cross that bridge when they got to it. Maybe they’d even cross it together, she thought, as pleasure wrapped around her and wouldn’t let go, tipping her over the edge of the abyss on a loud cry of release, torn from the very centre of her soul.

The first night on the island there’d been smoke, and now there was fire, putting Rosie in mind of that old idiom. She drew her knees to her chest and rested her cheek against them, watching as Sebastian stoked the bonfire, before stalking back to her. The day had been warm, and the night was sultry, yet there was a breeze that made the fire not completely unpleasant. If anything, this island off the coast of Cavalonia felt almost tropical.

She sighed before she could stop herself, contentment shifting through her. ‘I didn’t realise how badly I needed a holiday,’ she said, as Sebastian sat beside her. ‘I don’t remember the last time I really just let go like this. In fact, I don’t think I’ve looked at my phone since we got here.’ The thought had her sitting up straight, shocked that she could have been so carefree. Her phone was, ordinarily, her lifeline. It tethered her to the palace, the king, her job, her world—her mother, and even her father.

‘Relax,’ he drawled, partially misunderstanding her panic response. ‘I have a phone. If his precious highness needed you for anything, I’m sure one of his minions would have reached out to me.’

She studied him thoughtfully. ‘You hate his minions too?’

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