Page 58 of Modern Romance Collection February 2025, 5-8

Such a story would likely be a balm to the princess’s ego. Why wouldn’t she want people to think he’d whisked her away as a romantic gesture, rather than the truth? It would also suit his purposes for his parents to imagine this relationship as a love match rather than what it truly was. There’d be no explanations required. They understood love at first sight, claiming it had afflicted them from the moment they’d first met.

‘You don’t understand,’ Ana said.

‘Then help me.’

‘My parents would never agree to me going away with you unless we’re officially engaged.’

It was the first hint she might capitulate. His heart pounded at the thrill of whatever deal might come.

‘Don’t fear, Princess. They will.’

Convincing the King and Queen would be easy, especially when he told them it was the choice between the trip or Anastacia refusing him outright. They wanted their daughter married quickly, and this was the perfect way to ensure it happened without a fuss.

Anastacia’s lips parted. There was such hope on her face at the tiniest prospect of escape. He’d never stopped to think what her life might be like, trapped in a gilded cage. The mere thought made his skin prickle and itch. There was no doubt she was a woman he needed to set free, to open that cage door and let her fly. Although, sometimes birds didn’t want to leave their cages when it was all they knew, even with the door thrown open.

‘Have you ever heard the phrase “ask and you shall receive”?’ he asked, realising she might never have been given a choice. ‘You’re allowed to ask for what you want.’

She nibbled at her plush lower lip, her white teeth sinking into the pink flesh. ‘Then I—’

Aston perceived the faintest of sounds: a buzz, like a phone alert. It wasn’t the first one he’d heard in the maze. Anastacia turned away, reaching her hand into a well-hidden pocket of the demure yet tantalising dress, and pulled out her phone. Her mouth opened slightly and she paled, gripping the post of the pergola. Her fingers blanched white, as if she was going to faint on the spot. He moved closer, in case she did.

She looked at him, eyes wide, then back at her phone screen.

‘Bad news?’ he asked. Or was it a lover? Was that why she and Santori hadn’t married, because she wanted someone unsuitable instead? It could explain her family’s easy acceptance of him, the desire for a quick marriage.

Something tore through him, hot and potent. Everything inside roared in rejection of the prospect. She didn’t look like a woman in love now. She certainly hadn’t been the night of the Spring Ball, given the way she flirted with him. Though she could have been trying to make someone jealous. He knew all about manipulation, having witnessed it happen to Michel and being unable to stop it...

No.

He’d been sure that any attraction had all been reserved for him. That night, she’d been a woman...wanting. Instead, if he wasn’t mistaken, the look on her face now was one of real fear. He’d seen the same in Michel’s eyes on the last day of his life. Aston was struck by the overwhelming urge to reach for her, hold her; ask what made her afraid. Instead, he held his ground. He wasn’t a man who gave women false expectations.

‘Would you keep me safe?’ she asked.

Her voice was almost a whisper. Her arms wrapped round her waist. Her body was taught, as if getting ready to flee. Everything inside him stilled. The atmosphere changed. Even the bird song had dropped. A chill settled over him, as if he had been caught in a sudden fog. All of him was on high alert.

‘Are you in danger?’

‘People tell me I’m not.’

‘What do you tell yourself?’

She said nothing, just looked at her phone again, then to the exit of the maze. There was a story here, but first he needed to secure a deal between them. Then he could take some time to discover what had caused this reaction. The pinched look on her face... None of it made sense. Why would she need protection? She had a family to look after her—aroyalfamily. Yet she asked whetherhecould keep her safe. For a fleeting moment, it made him want to be that man for her.

‘You’re a princess. Of course you should have personal security, that’s a given. You’d only ever have the best. I care for what’s mine.’

At those words, Anastacia seemed to recover from whatever her phone had shown her. Her spine stiffened, as if she’d found her resolve, and he saw the glimpses of her strength. A woman who looked as if she knew what she wanted and would take it. His blood ran thick and hot at the thought that what she wanted washim.

There you are.The goddess of the Spring Ball.

‘I’m not yours...yet.’

She would be. He’d said those words with no thought, but he recognised the truth of them, even though he’d never expected to consider any woman as his own. Aston wanted to say that if she was a betting woman she should bet on having his ring on her finger and being in his bed in under a fortnight, yet he didn’t. Whilst he was no romantic, he understood how the game was played. Perhaps he could give a little to get the reward he sought.

Her.

No, not her: Girard.AlwaysGirard.

‘You haven’t answered my question. What will it take for you to come with me today?’

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