Page 70 of Modern Romance January 2025 1-4

She looked up, her expression veiled. But he’d been right about the tiredness. There were dark shadows beneath her eyes. ‘I do. If you’re free.’

Portia looked past him, her mouth pursing. Turning, he saw the American looking their way before picking up her bag and leaving. The woman was eye-catching and glamorously chic with her tumble of flame-red hair, slender frame and flamboyant clothes.

But, he realised, he’d only been interested in her knowledge of art, not in her as a woman.

Lex surveyed Portia’s expression and felt a fillip of satisfaction. Could that be jealousy she tried to hide?

It shouldn’t matter. But concern overrode logic. ‘I have a little time.’

For a long moment she was silent. Regretting the impulse that had brought her to him? When she spoke her tone was hard to read. ‘Thank you. But we can’t talk here. Shall we walk?’

Which is how he found himself, ten minutes later, strolling through a Mayfair park. The sky was pale blue and drifts of daffodils brightened the scene but the air was chilly, a contrast to the warmer weather he’d left in Athens.

Beside him, Portia walked with her arms crossed, yet something about her posture told him it wasn’t from cold. That flash of concern he’d felt for her was back.

‘What is it, Portia?’

His first thought, when she looked so fragile, was that she’d had bad news. But perhaps it was something different. Perhaps she’d struggled these past weeks too. Maybe she wanted to extend their liaison but wasn’t sure how he’d react to the suggestion.

She looked around as if making sure they couldn’t be overheard, then nodded towards a nearby seat. ‘Let’s sit.’

Intrigued, Lex sat beside her on the park bench.

‘There’s something I need to tell you.’

He waited, but there was no admission that she’d changed her mind. No suggestion that they get back together. Her words seemed to have dried up and with them, his sanguine hope that she wanted to pick up where they’d left off.

Despite the brisk breeze, her cheeks were pale and in the sunlight, the shadows under her eyes darker than he’d thought.

Premonition curdled his belly. Something was wrong. Something major, otherwise she wouldn’t have contacted him. Was she ill? His mind rebelled at the thought.

Unable to sit still, he shrugged out of his winter coat and rose to drape it around her shoulders.

Startled eyes met his. ‘What’s that for?’ As if she hadn’t even noticed the cold.

Lex lifted his hand from the coat collar, letting the back of his fingers brush her cheek. It was chilled.

But that didn’t stop heat igniting when he touched her. His fingers tingled with it and he saw warm colour rise in her face as if that fleeting contact affected her the same way.

It was still there, the attraction, the bond.

He shook his head and sank onto the seat beside her, closer this time.

‘You’ll be cold. You’re not used to this wintry weather.’ Yet she didn’t take the jacket off.

‘You forget the years I spent mucking out stables at dawn, come rain, hail or snow.’ Not to mention the fact that a Greek winter could be cold, especially in the mountains. He’d even learnt to ski there. ‘I’m listening, Portia.’

She nodded, twisting on the seat to face him. ‘I had some news recently. Unexpected news.’

Lex’s heart dived. She looked so sombre. All he could think of was some catastrophic health condition.

He nodded encouragingly though he knew he didn’t want to hear this.

Portia looked at the seat between them. Following her gaze he realised he’d reached out to hold her hand. He hadn’t even realised he’d done it.

‘I’m pregnant, Lex. Pregnant with your child.’

There was no mistaking the words. The sound of them still echoed in his ears. But it was so unexpected he had trouble processing it.

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