Page 143 of Modern Romance Collection February 2025, 5-8

The truth that had been revealed when she had looked at the ring on her finger and thought about it belonging to someone else...about someone else belonging to Joaquin.

The intense sense of loss that had engulfed her had made it impossible for her to dodge the truth. This wasn’t a sudden shift between friendship and love. She had always loved him. But she had buried the feeling deep, because she didn’t want to spend her life longing for something that would be out of reach for ever.

She loved Joaquin.

Joaquin, who was so emotionally inarticulate that he couldn’t even say he cared for her.

‘Damn ring!’ she cursed, tears starting in her eyes as she gave it another vicious tug.

He watched her struggle to pull the ring off her finger. ‘Stop that—you’ll hurt yourself.’ He caught both her wrists, his eyes dropping to her hands, so small and delicate between his, and he felt the now familiar kick of guilt, mingled in with lust and protectiveness.

It was a tangle of emotions he had never experienced before.

Hurt myself?she thought despairingly.That ship has already sailed.

Her cynical little laugh brought his dark eyes to her face.

‘So if we end up in bed, Joaquin, what would it mean? Would we both have other relationships and just hook up occasionally?’

A spasm of frustration crossed his lean face as he released her hands. ‘Clemmie—’

Refusing to be diverted, she cut across him, grabbing his arm. ‘Would it be a secret thing? Or would we laugh about it in company? And when one of us found someone else would—?’

She stopped, catching her full lower lip in her teeth. Suddenly tired of being logical, tired of fighting herself.

She wouldn’t be finding anyone else, because she wouldn’t be looking. She didn’twantanyone else.

He saw her expression change and, recognising the shift in her mood, opened his mouth to push his advantage. He closed it again.

She was totally inexperienced, and he was a man who thought of sex as a pleasurable pastime that he happened to be good at. She was a virgin who was looking for a romantic partnership.

He could rationalise it as much as he liked, but the end would not be pretty.

‘You’re right,’ he said.

Shock skittered across her face. ‘I am?’

He nodded. ‘Let’s draw a line under it. Sex is... Well, readily available. A conversation with a woman isn’t—for me.’

He was agreeing. He wasn’t fighting. He was saying he preferred chatting to her.

‘That makes me feelsospecial.’

Joaquin scowled darkly in response to her sarcasm. It would seem that no good deed went unpunished—though personally he considered the ache in his groin was punishment enough.

‘So you don’t want to talk and you don’t want sex? When am I going to be able to do something right?’

To hell with being noble! She was not a violent person, but the fact that he had the cheek to feel let down made her want to hit him. But while she was rising above this base instinct she was uncomfortably aware of how irrational her response was.

He was acting the way she had wanted him to.

And she was acting out.

It would be irrational not to feel relieved—and she was not irrational.

The silence stretched and Joaquin breathed through flared nostrils as he tried to lower the emotional temperature in recognition of her fragile status.

There was a limit to how many allowances he would or could make.

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