Page 34 of Modern Romance Collection February 2025, 5-8

And sooner or later she was going to have to address that.

But not now. Not when his hands were on her breasts and he was pressing her down against the mattress and moving over her. His kiss was deep and drugging as he drove one hard thigh between hers. Her hungry fingertips explored the silk of his skin, kneading luxuriously at all that hard flesh. Every one of her senses was engaged… The evocative scent of sex perfumed the air as he directed her to stroke on the condom and she revelled in his hopeless groan as she demonstrated this newly acquired skill. With a strangled moan he entered her and she came almost immediately and it wasn’t long before Romano was choking out his fulfilment in a way which had become achingly familiar, and Kelly felt a great sweep of unwanted emotion as she tightened her arms around his back and tried to hold onto the moment for as long as possible.

Afterwards they moved apart and lay there in silence until the ragged sounds of their breathing had calmed. But instead of staring at the beautiful frescoed ceiling, Kelly shut her eyes until she was sure that the tell-tale shimmer of tears had retreated. And only then was she able to turn to him with a super-bright smile.

‘Okay,’ she said carelessly. ‘Let’s hit the shops.’

‘No, that one,’ affirmed Romano decisively as he watched the stylist dangle two contrasting gowns in front of the diminutive redhead. ‘The silver.’

Lounging back on the leather sofa with an untouched goblet of champagne by his side, he waited until Kelly emerged from the changing room in his chosen gown, rather concerned to see that she was biting her lip.

‘What’s the matter?’ he questioned.

‘You don’t think it’s a bit…’

‘A bit what?’ he prompted, the flicker of a smile beginning to play at the edges of his lips.

She shrugged her silk-clad shoulders. ‘Revealing?’

He was tempted to tell her in soft and very graphic English that the dress was relatively modest when judged against the standards he was used to. It wasn’t slashed to the thigh, or plunged deep to the navel. Just a shimmer of silvery fabric, which made her look like a fallen star. And though he might wish to feast his own eyes on her body, he was damned if he wanted other men seeing too much of it. But she might easily misinterpret such a possessive statement and there was always the chance that it might be overheard by someone and fed to the salacious press.

‘No, I don’t,’ he said coolly and then, turning to the stylist, who was failing to hide her apparent joy—probably thinking about her commission—he nodded his head. ‘We’ll take it.’

The silver dress was packed up and dispatched to join yet more shiny carrier bags, which would be delivered to his apartment later. Only one had been held back, on his instructions, and he gave a nod. ‘Why don’t you put that one on?’ he suggested silkily. ‘You can wear it out to lunch.’

Ducking back into the changing room, Kelly slithered into the outfit which Romano had selected, wondering if she should object to his bossiness in deciding what she should wear. Yet why waste precious time and energy by making a fuss? It wasn’t as if it were going to make any difference in the long run, was it? She was still going to go her way and he his. And didn’t part of her revel in the way his black eyes smouldered with undisguised passion when he saw her in something he particularly liked? Didn’t it thrill her and still shock her a little bit that she was capable of making him react like that?

The full-length mirror reflected back an image which was quietly expensive, because everything she worewasexpensive. Eye-wateringly so. Beneath a chiffon dress the colour of ginger tea, she was wearing new lingerie, which was managing to do some gravity-defying things to her breasts, as well as silk stockings and a ridiculously lacy little suspender belt.

Her eyes narrowed. Dressed like this, she would be able to move around without judgment or censure in Romano’s high-octane world, that was for sure—though part of her felt like an imposter. The poor girl dressed up to the nines who was only sharing the billionaire’s life for the briefest of tenures.

Had she settled for too little? Allowing him to dress her up like a doll, while inside her head was whirling as she tried like mad to reassure herself that her period being almost a week late wasn’t a big deal at all. But it was—of course it was—and sooner or later she was going to have to do a test. She chewed on her lip. And since it would be practically impossible to go to a local pharmacy on Romano’s territory without incurring a mild interrogation, that meant she was going to have to tell him.

Romano, I think I might be pregnant.

No. That gave it the spurious air of being something they’d planned. Something they might be happy about.

Romano, I’m worried sick that I might be pregnant.

That was certainly more accurate. Her heart clenched. She would have to say something on those lines.

But not today.

Today she was going to pretend that this was for ever…

With a final adjustment of her curls, she walked out of the changing room to where Romano was waiting like a watchful panther, and she wondered if he was expecting her to do a twirl, or to parade before him in her cream high heels so he could watch the delicate silk chiffon brushing against her thighs. But instead, he placed his hand in the small of her back, his thumb making enticing little circles as he propelled her through the prestigious store and outside, where a limousine was waiting.

‘Where are we going?’ Kelly asked, sliding onto the back seat of the luxury car.

‘I’m taking you out for lunch.’ He put his hand on her knee. ‘Hungry?’

She supposed she should be. It was a long time since breakfast, which he had fed to her while she had been sitting on the breakfast bar of his amazing kitchen, again wearing nothing but one of his shirts. But it was difficult to be enthusiastic about food when his fingers were creeping beneath the hem of her dress like that.

‘Sure,’ she said, trying to keep her voice from trembling. ‘Where are we going?’

Annoyingly, he removed his hand from her thigh. ‘Wait and see.’

He took her to a light and airy restaurant, with olives trees dotted around a large terrace which commanded impressive views over the city. Kelly had been expecting ostentation and a lavish display of wealth but to her surprise it was neither of those things. It was a quiet and traditional place, serving Piedmontese food, which was ambrosial, especially the pudding—which initially she tried to refuse.

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