Page 159 of Modern Romance Collection February 2025, 5-8

Clemmie, who had been checking her phone at regular intervals since she’d arrived, gave a sigh of relief.

‘I hope you didn’t mind me giving Mum your contact details for emergencies,’ she yelled, then stopped as she found herself looking at his reflection in the mirror...tall and supremely elegant in his formal black tie.

Her senses leapt, making her aware of every nerve-ending in her body, and her pulses were madly racing as she spun around to face him, the silk of her dress swishing against the bare skin of her legs.

‘I’ve sent back a message via Rose to tell her that you are here and safe...and looking very beautiful.’

She felt a flush of pleasure at the compliment that was reflected in the look in his dark eyes. ‘Not the beautiful bit?’

‘No...’ He delivered the throaty admission with a smile that seemed strained.

‘Did...did Mum say anything else?’

Like, Don’t fall in love with men who don’t love you back?

She pushed the thought away. He lusted after her, and while that lasted she intended to enjoy it and pretend that delicious, mind-blowing sex was enough.

CHAPTER TEN

THEDINNERWASbeing held somewhere that Joaquin called ‘the central keep’, and the walk to where the dinner was being held took so long she joked that she wished she had worn her trainers.

Her first view was from a gallery level that was built into the stone barrelled roof. Stairs led down to the ground level, where guests congregated, their combined glitter competing with the row of chandeliers that illuminated the scene.

‘The dining room is that way.’ He nodded towards a wide Gothic arch. ‘What are you thinking?’

Her eyes lifted to his face. ‘I’m imagining what size the party will be when your mother celebrates us splitting up.’

His face went blank. Maybe he was regretting his decision to bring her?

‘I’m assuming they will expect me to use the wrong fork, or offer to do the washing up?’ she whispered behind her hand, her eyes travelling around as they approached the staircase. ‘It looks like a film set!’

‘My thought exactly.’

Joaquin arched a brow at the speaker. ‘Always working, Allie?’

‘You know me.’

A tall brunette wearing a dramatic red dress with a split that was daringly high smiled at Clemmie and leaned up to kiss Joaquin on each cheek.

‘Hello, stranger,’ she said.

‘This is Clemmie.’

‘No introductions necessary. We all saw the movie. I’m Alice Betts.’

‘Real life—not a movie, Allie. Allie is a set designer,’ he said, by way of explanation to Clemmie.

‘Not a movieyet,’ the brunette cut back, with a sly look up at him. ‘Maybe Rob could play you?’

Her gaze slid to the other side of the room, where the famous Hollywood actor was surrounded by people, mostly female, who were hanging on his every word.

‘I should go and rescue him,’ said Allie. ‘He’s jet-lagged... Who’d be married to a sex symbol? Well, you, I suppose,’ she added, grinning at Clemmie as she skipped past them on the staircase before heading across the room towards her husband.

‘This feels bad...lying to your friends.’

Joaquin’s magnificent shrug suggested he did not share her guilt. ‘The lie is not one of our making,’ he reminded her. ‘And not many people here are friends—just contacts and family.’

Now she was on ground level, Clemmie recognised a few faces of his family members from functions held at the manor, when she had been roped in to help, but she could not have put names to them.

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