Page 83 of Modern Romance Collection February 2025, 5-8

‘I don’t think Aston’s changed very much.’

His mother frowned, the movement so fleeting Ana wasn’t sure she’d truly noticed it. ‘You’ll be good for him. He’s always been searching...’

Ana suspected that he still was, and that she had no control over it. He continued to hold something back from her and tonight, she’d witnessed him holding back from his parents. What was it that drove him? She began to wonder whether he was truly happy with his life. Something painful and insecure knifed deep. Was he happy with her?

‘You know, when they were younger, he and his brother had plans. Michel wanted to climb Everest, all the highest mountains in the world. He wanted Aston to follow...’

‘That must have made you worry.’

‘I still do. Aston was determined to try Everest himself. Even after his father failed and his brother’s climbing accident...’

Ana stilled. It was as if her heart skipped a beat. Wasthatwhat Aston was training for? Why would he hide it from her? Something must have shown in her expression.

‘Did you not know?’ Camille asked.

Ana recovered herself and gave Camille her princess smile. Warm, practiced. Granted so many times it was imprinted on her muscle memory.

‘Of course,’ she lied, hating herself for it, but she was also practised in self-protection, especially after the last six months. ‘But I didn’t know about Simon trying, that’s all.’

‘When we married, had children, he stopped climbing the highest and most dangerous peaks. That’s what we hope for Aston. That with love and children he learns it’s the simple things that can be the true adventure.’

Ana wasn’t so sure. She didn’t know what to say. She grappled to keep the conversation going, remembering her breeding:if all else fails, talk about the person you’re speaking to. Smile, nod and engage, even if you’re dying inside.

‘You seem to have found that with Simon.’

They appeared to have a love that books could be written about. That movies could be made of. The dashing wine-maker from Australia and the chic French champagne heiress. Proof that love at first sight could happen, and could last.

‘I knew, from the moment we met, that I would always run into Simon’s arms if he held them open, and he would always catch me. I only hope the same for you.’

It was the kind of love Ana had dreamed of, but never expected. A love she’d always wanted for herself. A dream she now realised had never really died, and had been reignited by Aston over the past few weeks.

A dream she feared might now be slipping through her grasping fingers.

His parents’ driver picked them up to take them back to the farmhouse. Camille had offered a room at the château, but Aston had refused. Ana was happy about that. Tonight she’d learned so many things she wanted to talk to him about. Too many questions swirled in her head. Would he answer her if she asked? Her heart leaped to her throat, beating a sickening rhythm.

Aston held out his hand as they sat in the back seat, and Ana placed hers in his, their fingers twining together, grounding her. Part of being married was working through problems. They’d work things out. Love would come...

Love?Where had that thought come from? She needed to remind herself that Aston had sought convenient, even if he hadn’t meant cold. Goose bumps shivered over her skin as she’d remembered his return from Paris. The passion. How he’d bent her over the kitchen table, lifted her dress and made her cry out his name.

‘That went well,’ Aston said. ‘What did I tell you?’

‘I liked your parents a great deal.’

She meant it. They were a wonderful couple, warm and genuine—so unlike her own. Aston had been lucky with them. How would her life have been if she’d had the same? It didn’t bear thinking about.

‘They liked you.’

‘I hope so.’

‘How could they not? How couldn’t anyone?’ Aston raised her hand to his mouth and kissed it. His lips were warm against her skin. Even in the back of the car, in the relative darkness, she could feel the heat of his gaze on her, the need, as if he couldn’t wait to get home. Her heart rate picked up. She couldn’t wait either.

There’d be no talking tonight, and that was okay. There was always tomorrow.

The car pulled up at their front door.

‘Would you like a nightcap?’ Aston asked as they got out of the vehicle and went to the front door. They’d had a magnificent cognac before leaving the château. That final drink had made her feel quite giddy.

‘No, I think I’d like to go to bed.’

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