Page 78 of Modern Romance Collection February 2025, 5-8

‘There’s no pleasure to be found here, Hakkinen.Sit.’

The man’s face reddened. His jaw hardened. Aston stood there, unmoving. Waiting. Hoping that the man would try something, because his loss in any challenge would be swift and assured. But, in the end, Count Hakkinen sat. He was a coward and Aston knew he would always prevail.

Aston waited a few moments, staring the count down, then unbuttoned his jacket and took a seat, lounging in the chair as if he didn’t give a damn. In many ways, he didn’t—not about the man sitting opposite him at least.

‘Leave my fiancée alone. Your pretensions that you could have any chance with Her Highness end today.’

Hakkinen’s face reddened. ‘I’m not doing anything to your fiancée.’

Liar.

‘You might have fooled some, but you’ll never fool me,’ Aston snarled through gritted teeth. ‘“It isn’t over till the wedding ring’s on the finger”? You’re right, it hasn’t evenbegunwhere you’re concerned if you don’t leave France immediately.’

If Aston wasn’t mistaken, he saw an avaricious gleam in the count’s eyes.

‘There are things you don’t know about Her Exalted Highness,’ Hakkinen said with a sneer. ‘She’s not as perfect as she pretends. How would you like all of the information the palace tried to hush up about that night released to the press? The driver of the car—’

‘Was someone she had no control over. Her Highness doesn’t have to pretend to be anything around me. There’s nothing you could say that will make me think less about her.’ That was a certainty. Aston gave a cold, hard laugh. ‘ButeverythingI know about you, on the other hand...’

‘You have nothing on me.’ Yet the count seemed to pale, fidgeting with his coffee cup.

‘Want to bet the meagre remains of your fortune and failing reputation on that?’

A harried-looking waiter came to the table and asked Aston if he would like anything.

‘Un café,’Aston said, pinning Hakkinen with a cold glare. ‘On Count Hakkinen’s bill. Now, where were we? Yes. I was asking whether you were a betting man. But I’m short on time, so let me lay my own cards on the table.’

Aston’s coffee arrived. He pushed it away. He’d never had any intention of drinking it but took perverse pleasure in the knowledge Hakkinen was paying for the beverage, even if it was only a few euros.

‘The only story the press will be interested in is the one I’ll provide them should you not do everything I say—a full investigation of certain irregular charity transactions. You talk about a hush-up? I have evidence about the repayments you made to cover up the discrepancies. Then there are your debts. I know where the cracks are in your business, all your weaknesses. If you don’t leave my fiancée alone, there will be a takeover and I will ensure it’s hostile. You’ll be left with nothing. Completely ruined, financially and socially.’

Aston had never believed a person’s face could turn truly white, but he witnessed Hakkinen’s do so in that moment. It gave him a brutal satisfaction—not only the pallor of the count’s skin but the way his hands trembled, the sweat beading on his upper lip.

‘You think you can do that to me?’ the man asked, voice a bare whisper.

‘I don’t think, Iknow. I have an informative dossier all about you. A few words in the right ears and your fall from grace will be so complete there will be no rising from it. You’re no Lazarus.’

Aston stood, and loomed over the table, lowering his voice to inject cold menace. Hakkinen shrank back in his chair.

‘I’m a fair man and will give youonechance. But, if I hear even a rumour that you’re in the samecountryas my fiancée ever again, I will end you.’

Aston took the time to button his jacket, turned and stalked from the café, sending a quick text to his driver as he did. Positive Hakkinen had heard the message he’d delivered, loud and clear. He checked his watch as his car pulled up at the hotel, sliding into the rear seat. His pulse beat hard and fast. In less than an hour, he’d be back at the farmhouse. He could go for a training run to burn off the sickening remains of his fury, then arrange another meeting with his fellow expedition members to plan for the Everest climb. No, notcould—hewoulddo all of those things and more, even though right now the weight of them exhausted him.

Yet all he craved, more than any promise he had ever made to the living or dead, was to make love to Ana.

CHAPTER NINE

THEY’DTRAVELLEDINsecret to Aston’s Épernay property a week ago. It was a magnificent, sprawling stone farmhouse on fifty acres of land. Aston had arranged for on-site security, who lived in a converted barn a discreet distance from the main house. She welcomed their presence, even though for the main they stayed out of sight.

It was as if she could finally relax. Aston had taken some time away from work to spend with her, apart from a brief trip back to Paris when she’d been sorting out staff and her new charity. Aside from the early hours, when Aston took to his gym or put on a heavy pack and trekked across the land in training, they’d explored the countryside. He’d taken her to Reims, where they’d visited a cathedral, a museum and had a quiet dinner. He’d promised her a balloon flight over the vineyards.

Then their nights...when it was as if she came alive. The hunger, the need, consumed her. The depth of her emotion she had trouble fathoming some days might have scared her a little, had Aston not always been a grounding presence. When one night she’d cried because the orgasm, what he made her feel, had been too much, he’d simply held her. Kissed away her tears and made love to her again, slow and aching.

Then the very next morning he’d gone out to train once more. She admired his dedication, and loved what it did to his body, all the hard, tempting muscles, but she worried about him. Worried about how tired he sometimes seemed, as if what he was doing was an obligation. She’d tried to raise it with him, asking what mountain he was planning to climb, but his response was always the same. He’d dismiss her concerns and then kiss her till she forgot any questions and simply immersed herself in the passion that exploded between them.

He worshipped her, like the goddess he’d proclaimed her to be at the Spring Ball. Her scars were ignored. They’d become part of her. Even she was coming to accept them, feeling...beautiful once more. He’d given her that—a sense things were possible again. That there was an exciting life and a future ahead not only for her, but forthem.

As if she’d conjured him, the man walked into the room, showered and wearing a dark suit and blood-red tie, whilst she stood in the middle of their bedroom in only a robe. He was so handsome, so solid. He was kind to her in ways entirely unfamiliar. Everything Aston did made her feel safe and wanted. Not for what she looked like but who she was. She felt it when they discussed her charities, his own interests, how they might work together. He treated her like a true partner.

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