Page 41 of Modern Romance January 2025 1-4

Lex didn’t use her name, she noticed. ‘Water’s fine.’

He turned to the waiter, asking for a glass of wine that she knew by reputation alone. It seemed he’d developed a taste for fine wine in the years since she’d known him. And deep pockets.

Could it be true, what Phil had said? ‘Tomaras? Is that really what you call yourself now?’

Something flashed in his eyes. Something hard and dangerous.

But Portia wasn’t scared of him. What did she have to be scared about? He had never hurt her. Yet that coolly assessing stare felt like a honed blade scraping her skin.

‘It’s my name.’

His voice was deeper than she remembered, burring across her skin and raising goosebumps. Making her aware, at a cellular level, of him as aman. Despite the circumstances, she felt a softening deep inside. The liquid warmth of a woman reacting to a desirable man.

If she were going to be totally honest, she’d felt it from the first, even in that moment of shocked disbelief.

She sat straighter, her voice unintentionally harsh as she fought her own body. ‘Alexandros Tomaras? That’s who you really are?’

It didn’t make sense. She’dknownhim. Known everything about him. He wasn’t Greek. He was English, with Irish ancestry.

‘That’s who I really am.’ When she didn’t respond he continued with more than a touch of impatience. ‘Shall I show you my passport?’

The waiter arrived with a glass of red, a glass of sparkling iced water with a slice of lime, and some snacks.

Portia almost wished she’d ordered alcohol, something to soothe her strung-out nerves. But she needed all her faculties.

She reached for her glass. ‘If you say it’s your name, then it is. But how?’

‘So you’re interestednow?’

Portia stiffened, hearing his emphasis on the last word. As if she wouldn’t have been interested in the past. It shouldn’t surprise her, yet she wasn’t ready for the blast of distress and regret.

The glass paused halfway to her lips and her eyes sought his. They were narrowed, gleaming slits of... No, she couldn’t read his expression.

Or you don’t want to.

She lifted her shoulders as if his disapproval didn’t matter, then sipped her water, forcing it down her tight throat. Ignoring the pain that bloomed in response to what she knew must be scorn.

He lifted his wineglass, swirled it slightly and inhaled before drinking. Portia tugged her gaze away from that sensuous mouth and the way his throat moved as he swallowed.

With the utmost care, she placed her glass on its silver coaster, her hand reaching for her bag.

‘I found my father.’

Her head jerked up, eyes widening. ‘Your father? Really?’

Excitement made her smile. Lex had never known his father and his mother had been evasive on the subject. She remembered how frustrated that had made him. But her smile faded as she met his unblinking stare. He didn’t look pleased.

‘You didn’t like him?’

‘On the contrary, he was one of the first truly decent people I knew.’

Lex’s gaze drifted to a plate of snacks and he took his time selecting one before popping it into his mouth.

Which gave her time to consider his expression and his words. The implication was clear. That there was no one in his life when they knew each other that he’d calldecent.

Including you.

Intellectually Portia had known he might feel that way. Yet his disdain was hard to bear.

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