Page 45 of Modern Romance January 2025 1-4

Her gaze skated away as if she were suddenly uncomfortable. ‘You’re here to view the items for the next auction?’

Lex nodded, registering how her voice had turned breathless. Relief eased tensed muscles. She wasn’t immune either. That darting sideways glance under her lashes and the husky edge to her words betrayed sexual awareness.

An interest Portia seemed determined to ignore. She looked past him as if searching for a bus as raindrops began to sprinkle.

‘That’s right.’ He paused, deciding not to admit he’d already discovered she worked there. ‘You?’

He watched emotions flicker across her features as if she wasn’t sure whether to admit she was on the staff. Was she ashamed of working for a living? Once he’d have laughed at the idea. But then he hadn’t known her as well as he thought he had. Portia Oakhurst wasn’t the girl he’d once believed her to be.

‘It’s where I work.’

‘You always were interested in art.’

Her eyes rounded as if in surprise that he remembered.

He was tempted to tell her he remembered everything. Including every word of that final, appalling text.

The memory hardened his jaw and he saw her take a half step back.

How was it possible to dislike and distrust a woman yet at the same time desire her?

Her head tilted and she regarded him. ‘I don’t remember art being one of your interests.’

Lex shrugged. ‘I came to it later.’

His father’s impressive art collection had been a catalyst for his own interest. That and the fact he was no longer trying to make ends meet by holding down three jobs for substandard wages. Admittedly he was too busy to have a lot of leisure time, but that was his choice. He could afford time off to enjoy the luxuries of life when he chose.

Was Portia a luxury he intended to enjoy?

It would be madness. He never made the same mistake twice. Yet something deep inside decreed that he’d regret walking away from her now.

Because you want to be the one to walk away this time and leave her wanting?

He told himself it would be understandable to want payback after the way she’d treated him. But Lex knew it wasn’t that.

The gentle patter of rain became a steady drumming, wetting his hair. Yet instead of hurrying away as she’d looked ready to do a few moments before, Portia stood looking up at him, her scrutiny intense.

He reached out and touched her elbow. ‘Come on, there’s no point standing out here getting wet. You never did stay for that drink.’

Still he waited. It had to be her choice to come with him. He discovered his lungs had tightened as he waited for her reply. What was it about her that ignited such a visceral response?

He’d spent years working hard to make something of himself even before the challenge of building up his own business. Yet waiting for her response made him feel like that callow youth he’d once been, so eager, foolishly trusting.

One way or another he needed to get this woman out of his system.

Finally she nodded. ‘Why not?’

But the look she gave him belied her flippant answer. Her eyes were serious, her mouth firm as he led her around the corner to his hotel.

They crossed the black-and-white-tiled lobby with its high domed ceiling, making for the bar. They garnered a few curious stares but he ignored them. Public curiosity was part of his life now.

Instead Lex was minutely aware of Portia beside him. Her scent, that familiar perfume of bluebells, teased his nostrils, reminding him of spring at Cropley.

The memory shattered when they reached the bar. Usually quiet and discreet, today it was filled with a throng of loud young people, dressed to the nines and celebrating at the top of their voices. Their accents spoke of inbred privilege and their shouts proclaimed their total lack of care for anyone but themselves.

‘Change of plan. There’s a lounge upstairs that won’t be full of Hooray Henrys.’

A tiny frown formed on Portia’s forehead and for a moment he feared she had second thoughts. Then she nodded and he led her to the lift. In his belly satisfaction and anticipation coalesced.

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