Page 93 of Modern Romance January 2025 1-4

It wasn’t like Lex to want her vulnerable.

Maybe her rejection of his plan wasn’t just inconvenient. Was it possible he felthurt?

The idea lodged hard beneath her ribs, making it difficult to breathe. That would imply a level of emotional engagement she’d thought impossible.

‘Thank you for inviting me to meet them. It was a privilege.’ She paused. ‘It’s good to know our child will have uncles, aunts and a grandfather, even cousins to play with.’

‘Believe me, they’ll be thrilled when they hear our news. That’s something we both missed out on, isn’t it? No siblings growing up. I’m glad our child will have a wider family.’

Portia’s throat closed. That realisation brought peace of mind. Imagine if Lex hadn’t been interested in fatherhood. If he’d turned his back on the baby. If there’d been no one to raise her child if something happened to her.

Her blood ran cold and she curved her palms protectively around her belly.

Somehow he picked up on her distress. A warm hand closed around hers. ‘It will be okay, I promise.’

The knot of emotion in her throat tightened. He couldn’t make such a promise. No one could. But she appreciated the reassurance, found herself clinging to his hand for a fraction longer.

Enough! There was no need to get maudlin.

She relinquished his hand, enjoying the slide of hard fingers against her skin far too much. ‘Both hands on the wheel, please.’

‘Yes, ma’am!’

He laughed and just like that, everything changed. Her careful control splintered, leaving her wide open.

His laugh was like sunshine and rich velvet. Like joy after grief. Like hot chocolate on a cold night.

Like a hand stroking her sex, making her hum with need.

All night she’d been attuned to him, body primed as if expecting far more than conversation.

Because you want more from Lex than conversation and consideration.

You want him. You never stopped wanting him.

Instead of celibacy allowing her space to gather her thoughts, it had the opposite effect. It was driving her to distraction.

Now, with just a laugh—a sexy, irresistible laugh—he undid her, leaving her prey to raw desire.

Portia shifted, trying to ease the ache between her legs. But the slide of skin on skin, and silk on skin, made her more aware of her arousal.

The dark intimacy of the luxury car felt claustrophobic. All her senses were centred on Lex, the breadth of his shoulders, the length of his legs, the easy way he controlled the car, his hand so close to her thigh when he changed gears. That fresh beach and man scent, making her nostrils quiver. How it had felt when his hand covered hers.

She drew a shuddery breath as they turned off the street into the secure basement car park. Soon the evening would be over and she’d be safe in her own room.

She didn’t want to be safe.

Minutes later he ushered her into his private lift. That’s when she saw it again, reflected in the mirrored wall before her. That ardent, dark-as-night stare that shot fire to her pelvis and drew a line of silken heat from her breasts to her clitoris.

Portia spun around.

She’d almost missed it. Lex was already composing his features into an expressionless mask.

Her breath tightened in her chest. ‘You want me,’ she accused, relief surging.

His eyes widened, as if in surprise at being caught out. Then his chin came up.

‘Why make it sound like news? You know I do. But—’ he shifted back from her ‘—don’t worry. I gave my word to keep my distance. I always keep my word.’

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