Page 75 of Modern Romance Collection February 2025, 5-8

‘I like my ring on your finger,’ he said.

‘I like it too.’ It was too extravagant, too much, yet no one had ever done anything like this for her before.

‘You know, I’d marry you tomorrow if the laws in France allowed it, but you deserve more than a rushed day, which isn’t exactly how you want it.’

The sentiment seemed so tender. Aston was thinking of her again. He’d seen her worth not in how she looked but who she was inside. That meant more to her than the ring, or promises of a wedding. Something inside her seemed to crack and break, as if allowing space for him. She knew there was no going back, not now.

He kissed her again. The tenderness had gone. This one, hot and feverish. His fingers at her nipple, his weight against her. Their bodies moved, creating a sweet ache inside. A need began building again, tighter and tighter, as they rocked together. His hardness slid against her. She wanted to be filled by him, to experience that blissful sense of release and floating once more. She lifted her hips as Aston eased himself inside her. She gloried in the feeling. The pressure, the fullness. He stopped, toying with her nipples again, sensation spearing between her legs as he slid forward and seated himself deep in her body.

‘Good?’ he asked.

‘Yes.’ The word was almost only a breath. How close she felt to him in this moment. How much care he’d taken. There’d been no pain, only pleasure. He began to rock again, as if allowing her to get used to his size, then he really moved, thrusting in and out. She ran her hands down his body to his buttocks, feeling the way his hips flexed. The muscles as he drove into her in a hypnotic kind of rhythm. Becoming one. She was lost in the wonder of it, the dizzying sensations. The clawing need as it built again, deeper, a relentless ache. And then it came over with a roar of heat and ecstasy, as Aston groaned his own release.

Ruining them both.

CHAPTER EIGHT

ANAWOKEANDSTRETCHED. Her body ached in the most delicious of ways. She and Aston had made love for most of the afternoon before, exploring each other’s bodies, learning what it took to make each other sigh and moan. It gave her such a sense of power, to have seen him come apart because of her. Then they’d eaten a quick dinner, tumbled back into bed again and made love through the night.

Now Aston lay beside her, blissfully asleep. She knew that he usually woke early and trained. For what, she still wasn’t sure, as he avoided the question, but for now it didn’t matter. There was something satisfying about seeing him simply rest when usually he appeared to be a person who truly burned the candle at both ends.

She rolled over to check the time on her phone, but it wasn’t beside her bed where she usually kept it. It must have been in the lounge area. That was the thing about leaving with Aston—she hadn’t needed to obsessively check her daily alerts. It had stopped being a reflex because no one except her family knew where she was.

Her stomach grumbled, telling her it had to be well past breakfast. She got out of bed carefully so as not to wake him. Crept out of the room to her ownen suitebathroom and looked in the mirror. Grazes from Aston’s stubble had marked her skin. She touched the areas, loving that he’d left them on her. They were marks she didn’t mind. They didn’t mar her. They were a reminder of the earth-shattering pleasure he’d given her.

She tidied her hair a little and threw on a silk gown, not yet wanting fully to clothe herself. She relished the sensation of the smooth fabric on her overheated skin, imagining it was his hands stroking her.

Perhaps she could get them both some breakfast? They could eat together, then spend the day in bed. She didn’t have anything on, nowhere to go. Ana grabbed her phone and made her way to the kitchen where she found some fruit and yoghurt. She loved Aston’s apartment. The honey-coloured herringbone parquetry. Ornate plaster ceilings. Tasteful furniture, a mix of antique with some modern touches. This place had a soul.

She opened the French doors to her favourite feature, a little balcony overlooking the Eiffel Tower, where she put down her bowl and sat. She couldn’t help holding up her hand in the warm morning light, turning it so the magnificent diamond she hadn’t taken from her finger flashed as it caught the sunshine.

She guessed it meant that she and Aston were now engaged. He hadn’t asked, but she’d sensed the finality of it all in the kiss at the auction, the moment he’d slid the ring onto her finger. Then they’d made love for most of the afternoon and night. What was that if not confirmation that the deal between them had been sealed? She didn’t need Aston to make a performance out of it and officially ask her to marry him in some romantic gesture.

Although, Astoncouldbe romantic—the dinner on his yacht with the beautiful candles, flowers and string lights were proof... Her heart tightened at the memory, something like disappointment, but she had no right to that emotion when what they’d agreed was clear. Their relationship wasn’t about love or romance. It was a convenience, and that was enough. There was no point dwelling on any of it.

She took a spoonful of her yoghurt and checked her phone. As she did, she noticed the messages from her parents’ number, although she was sure it was their private secretary who’d sent it.

We requested discreet. However, we offer you congratulations on your presumed engagement. Please advise when the announcement is formalised.

How did they know? Her heart began to thump a sickening rhythm. There were no court circulars to talk about her comings and goings or engagements as a member of the royal family.

Then she saw a text from Cilla.

OMG Ana, is this true!?!?!

The text linked to an article and she opened it. Immediately wishing she hadn’t. It was a piece about the auction, mentioning the record price per carat for a fancy blue diamond. Who purchased it. Talk of a mystery woman. She shut the piece down and looked for more. The Internet was awash with it. Rumours about the mystery woman turned into rumours that it was her, before some entertainment sites formally named her as the recipient. An anonymous attendee at the auction had apparently confirmed it, and their kiss. The press wrote how they were waiting for an announcement from the palace. The tabloids had delved into the romance, fictional though it might have been. There was talk of Aston’s business in Halrovia, perhaps signalling the commencement of a love affair for the man who had once been a confirmed bachelor.

It was like a juggernaut bearing down on her. She’d lived the past days in relative anonymity, no one knowing where she was going or what she was doing. That had been a kind of bliss. Now there was speculation as to where they might be staying, identifying his apartment in the seventh arrondissement as the most likely place. Showing pictures of the previous real estate listings. Its last sale price before Aston bought it and was reported to have done an extensive renovation.

She dropped the spoon and it fell into her breakfast with a clatter, spattering yoghurt on the table and on her. She couldn’t breathe. She didn’t know what to do. Could anyone see her out here? The street was lined with trees. She tried looking through them at the properties opposite. Were they homes available for rental? Was anyone watching? Waiting, for her? Ana peered over the balcony to the road below. There was a man across the street, standing looking at the building. He wore a hat pulled low but something about the shape of the body, the way he held himself, seemed familiar.

She pulled back, gasping for air. It wasn’t possible, was it? Could Count Hakkinen have found her here? With the news reports, everybody would know where she now lived. It was only a few hours’ flight from Halrovia to Paris. She didn’t know what to do, where to go. Panic gripped her as she struggled for each breath. Ana stood, trembling, her legs barely holding her as she ran into the apartment...

Hitting a strong, solid wall of male flesh as she did.

‘Whoa!’ Aston said, chuckling as he caught Ana just inside the door to the terrace. ‘I’m happy to see you too.’

He could say that with honesty. The afternoon and night had been more than he could have dreamed—though he’d known how their passion would burn together from the first night they’d met, so it shouldn’t have come as any surprise. This morning he’d slept in, and had been a little disappointed not to find Ana in bed with him, because he’d woken with the inevitable erection and, even though he had planned a few hours of training, thought they might spend the most of another day in bed together. However, this greeting would do nicely...

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