Page 85 of Modern Romance Collection February 2025, 5-8

‘Bed,’ he growled. His voice was on edge, almost feral. She crawled under the covers, pulling them back for him too as he rid himself of the rest of his clothes. He was magnificent in the lamp light. The shadows his muscles etched. The strength of his biceps, the washboard ridges of his abdomen. Standing there, thrillingly aroused. He found protection and sheathed himself, then crawled over to her like a huge, hungry predator.

Her pounded at her chest, she was so aroused. Wet, ripe. Needing him in a way that was mindless, borne of pure instinct. She arched up into him as his weight came down on her. His body rocked against hers, a blissful promise of release. Her eyes fluttered shut as he positioned himself, notching himself at her centre. Her hands slid round his waist, feeling the power of his muscles under her fingers.

‘Open your eyes,’ he whispered, and she did. The look in his own eyes somehow melting yet hard at the same time. ‘You’re so beautiful when taking your pleasure. I want to watch you come. Want you to watch me.’

He began to ease into her and she moaned, not closing her eyes as he’d asked, watching him. The intensity of his gaze, his focus, was all on her. He thrust in gentle strokes, her body moving in perfect time with his. Something about this moment, their love-making, was so aching, so slow. His rhythm was deliberate and constant, building a burn between her thighs, deep inside. It was like a vice, the relentless twisting, tighter and tighter.

A small frown formed on Aston’s brow, but they didn’t take their eyes from each other. It was as if they had opened a door and were looking into each other’s souls.

‘A-Aston... Aston...’ His name came out as a chant as she teetered on a terrifying edge, afraid to fall because she feared something about tonight would change everything. All the while tears formed in her eyes, blurring him because the pleasure was so sharp and sweet she could hardly bear it.

‘I’m here. I understand,’ he said, his voice tight, as if barely holding on himself. ‘Come for me,mon amour.’

My love.

With that, she threw herself over the edge into oblivion.

CHAPTER TEN

ANASATATa large table in the rustic farmhouse kitchen, draining her second coffee of the morning. Once again, she’d woken alone. She checked the clock on the wall. Aston had been gone for three hours this time, and they’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms, exhausted, past midnight. He must have had no more than four hours’ sleep.

Waking alone didn’t bother her so much; it was more than that. After the dinner at his parents’, she’d begun doing some research into what it took to climb the tallest mountain in the world, the risks. She’d seen the photos and videos—they were awe-inspiring, terrifying. She’d seen the bodies of those who’d failed. It had taken her down a rabbit hole of trying to understand him, what it took to climb the ‘eight thousanders’, as they were called—the tallest and deadliest mountains in the world.

As she’d thought before, she loved what the exercise did for his body, but now hated what it appeared to be doing to him. Hated how tired he seemed, although he tried to hide it well. If he’d appeared happy with it all, if he’d confided in her or was excited in any way, then maybe she could get excited too. But all she was left with was creeping fear and dread. On some of those mountains, a third of people who tried to climb them died. Luckily, Everest wasn’t as bad as that, but still...

She’d tried to talk to him again about when he might be planning his next climb and where that might be. She knew from her research when the best season was to climb, so she guessed it wouldn’t be for a while, but she didn’t know how he could keep going like this. Burning the candle not only at both ends but seemingly in the middle too. No matter how subtly she tried to bring up his mountaineering, he fobbed it off when she hinted at wanting to talk. Kissing her until all she craved was him and everything else was forgotten.

He worked and trained and they made love, but he didn’t seemhappyto be doing it. She wanted him to be happy so badly, it had begun to make her desperate. She suspected all the research hadn’t helped. She’d watched videos of mountaineers, trying to understand why they climbed the tallest peaks. Trying to understandhim, because he was opaque as a thick fog. But it scared her even more to realise some of the videos she’d watched were from people now dead, lost to the mountains they’d climbed. If only he’d confide in her, just a little, she might understand. That was all she was asking for—him to reassure her this was what he wanted. That he was doing it for himself...and not someone else.

Movement at the door roused her from the dregs in her coffee cup. Aston walked into the room, smiling when he saw her. As always, it made her belly flutter.

‘Good morning,’ he said.

‘Good morning to you.’

The fresh smell of soap and what she could only define as the scent unique to Aston, earthy and wild, threatened to scramble her senses. His hair was still damp. He hadn’t shaved, a stubble grazing his jaw. He looked as handsome as ever, in jeans and a polo shirt, yet she saw things that he might not when he looked in the mirror. The dusty colour under his eyes. The lines deepening at their corners, bracketing his mouth. It spoke to her of stress, of tiredness. She loved his drive, his commitment, but it seemed that it was driving him into the ground.

Ana tilted up her head and he captured her lips. Her heart pounded at the conversation to come, part-excitement, part-trepidation. They broke apart and Ana twisted the engagement ring that sparkled on her finger in the morning light.

He poured himself a cup of coffee, grabbed a croissant delivered by the local bakery and sat across from her.

‘So, where did you go this morning?’ she asked. She’d guessed, but wanted him to tell her. She wanted to lead into this conversation slowly because she wasn’t sure how it would go.

He shrugged. ‘I went for a run.’

If it was anything like the other days, he would have taken a weighted backpack with him, to increase his effort.

‘Why?’

Aston tore off a piece of the buttery croissant and washed it down with a mouthful of coffee. ‘As I’ve told you, climbing requires me to maintain a level of fitness that sitting in a boardroom doesn’t give me.’

‘To climb Mount Everest?’

‘If you knew the answer to the question, why did you ask it,ma chère?’

From the cool tone of his voice, she was aware she was prodding a sensitive place, but she didn’t know why. She wanted him to explain so she could understand him better. There was something that kept him apart from her, when she craved to get even closer. She’d seen that closeness in his parents, and between Caspar and Cilla. Couldn’t she have it for herself?

‘Why do you want to climb Everest?’

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