Page 58 of Modern Romance January 2025 1-4

Over the years she’d met attractive men but never been tempted to risk herself in another serious relationship. It scared her sometimes, her inability to put herself out there. To trust her heart, even a little, to someone else.

Because she’d spent so long relying only on herself that independence was her default position, a defence against hurt?

Because she couldn’t forget the pain of his desertion?

Or because no other man had made her feel a tenth of what he had?

Fury sizzled under her skin. Could she be that weak?

‘I’m afraid that’s impossible. But thanks for the offer.’ Her mother had brought her up to be polite.

‘You don’t want to spend time with me? You’re saying you didn’t enjoy our night together?’ His tone challenged her to deny it.

‘Oh, I enjoyed it. You’re a very accomplished lover.’

She paused, searching for words that would end this quickly. Because his invitation was far too tempting. The scary fact was shewantedto spend the weekend with him. Her blood fizzed with anticipation at the very idea.

But it would be a mistake. That night together was supposed to have marked the end of the relationship that had haunted her for years. She needed to make a clean break.

‘Well, then—’

‘But I’m not in the market for a sexual relationship right now. That night we were prompted by ghosts of the past. All that emotion around how our affair ended.’

It hadn’t been an affair. For her it had been far more. But that was all she’d admit to.

She hurried on before he could interrupt. ‘It was a...relief to let go of all those feelings. And the remnants of our old physical attraction. But it’s over, Lex. I don’t want to go back.’

‘I’m not talking about going back. I’m just proposing a weekend together.’ His voice dropped low. ‘I guarantee you’d enjoy it.’

That was the trouble. Portia was sure he could. But where would that leave her? Pining for him all over again?

‘Again, thanks for the offer, but you’ll have to look elsewhere for a weekend companion.’

She ended the connection.

Portia sank back in her chair, staring at her computer screen but seeing instead Lex as she’d left him in the hotel. He’d been sprawled, naked, one arm reaching across the bed from where he’d roped it around her waist while they slept. His jaw was darkened with stubble that had left red patches across her throat, breasts and inner thighs. Her sated body had hummed with a sense of well-being, filled with a sweet warmth that belied the need to leave.

She’d stood there on wobbly legs, half hoping he’d wake and stop her going.

That was what had finally given her the impetus to walk out the door—knowing that if she weren’t careful, she’d find herself in thrall again to the only man she’d ever loved.

Lex hadn’t planned on returning to the auction house after she’d refused his suggestion of a weekend together, yet here he was, once more surveying the sculptures coming up for auction.

He’d told himself he’d cancel the trip to London. It had been a spur of the moment decision anyway. True, he’d spent a useful afternoon in meetings, but the impetus for the visit was Portia. Despite her rejection. He just hadn’t been able to keep away.

He’d told himself he needed to forget her.

Six weeks ago he’d woken in his hotel suite, looking forward to a lazy Saturday in bed with her, only to discover she’d abandoned him.

Just like old times.

Except she hadn’t abandoned him that first time. All those years believing she’d made a fool of him, using him for her own amusement, and she’d been a victim of her father’s brutality.

That had to be why Lex’s reaction to her now was so confused. Why he couldn’t just walk away as she had.

Something lingered, some shred of...

He shook his head. Therewasno connection between them. Whatever emotional bond they’d once shared had been severed. The only thing left was sexual attraction.

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