Page 211 of Modern Romance Collection February 2025, 1-4

Frustration coiled inside him, but he crushed it. ‘Oh? Why not?’

‘I love being part of nature. It’s important. The trees and the forests, all the wild places, are important. They’re part of me. And I feel responsible for them. I want to protect them, and I want my child to learn how to protect them too.’ As she spoke, her eyes glowed, the warm brown like a sun-dappled forest pool, glinting with gold and amber.

She meant every word, he could see that. There was a passion and a sincerity in the words and in her expression too, that tugged at something inside him, something he couldn’t quite articulate.

There was no sincerity in his world, no honesty. It was all games and power-plays, all deals and money, smoke and mirrors. And as for passion, well, there was none of that either. Passion was a weakness, a vulnerability for someone to exploit for their own gain.

Looking at Maude now, all Dominic could think of was that she shouldn’t tell him these things, shouldn’t show him such a vulnerability, because—and he knew himself far too well—he’d use that passion and sincerity against her. Use them to get what he wanted, because what he wanted, he got. He didn’t know why he cared, but he did.

‘You shouldn’t tell me these things, nymph,’ he murmured softly. ‘You shouldn’t reveal your hand before you’ve sealed the deal.’

Her eyes narrowed. ‘Why not?’

‘Because now I know what cards you’re holding, I can use that against you. For example, you want me to keep Darkfell? Very well, I will. On condition that you and the child come and live with me in London.’

CHAPTER SEVEN

THELIVINGROOMof the cottage felt too small, too claustrophobic. Maude felt as if she couldn’t get enough air. Dominic Lancaster was standing in the middle of the room, filling the entire space with the taut electricity of his presence, and it was hard for her to think.

She’d thought she’d been prepared for him, but of course she wasn’t.

She’d hurried into the cottage as his helicopter had come in to land, racing into her bedroom to pull out one of the few dresses she owned that she could still wear, a red one Irinka had once told her had looked beautiful on her.

Certainly, when she’d pulled open the door to his knock and his gaze had dropped to the neckline of the dress, she’d felt a small burst of satisfaction. That was until she’d taken him in and realised that no amount of preparing herself for meeting him was going to be enough.

He was in a suit today, perfectly tailored to his tall, powerful figure. It was of dark grey, with a black business shirt, and with a silk tie of washed gold. Beautiful clothes for the most beautiful man.

And he was beautiful. Not a god of the forest today, but a god of industry, or business. Zeus presiding on Olympus, using the power of his charisma and authority to dominate the other gods.

Her heart had begun to beat fast, and she’d forgotten everything she’d meant to do, all the demands she’d meant to make. She’d intended to take control of the conversation, but he’d taken it instead, laying out his demands and leaving her to protest in a pathetic knee-jerk reaction.

It made her feel childish to have to say no like that, but what else could she do? She’d told him why she wanted to stay here, had let some of her passion for the forest show in her voice and she’d thought that might sway him.

But it hadn’t, she could see it in his eyes.

He’d been right to warn her. She’d let slip too much and he was far too astute a businessman not to use that against her. Her plans for seducing him into not selling the house and leaving their baby with her probably wouldn’t work either, not when she didn’t have the experience to play that game.

There is another option: refuse to play.

The thought whispered in her head, appealing to the broad streak of stubborn inside her. He was bending her to his will with all this talk of deals, trying to make her use his language, operate by his rules. And she’d fallen into it without thinking.

But she wasn’t a dealmaker and she didn’t negotiate. She was a free spirit and he couldn’t force her to be what he wanted her to be. She had to be herself.

Maude took a breath. ‘No,’ she said.

‘No?’ One winged black brow rose. ‘What do you mean no?’

‘I mean, I’m not coming to live with you anywhere.’

His dark eyes glittered. ‘Then I will sell Darkfell.’

‘Fine. Sell it.’ She lifted her chin, her heart beating suddenly far too fast. ‘I’ll continue to live in the cottage.’

‘I have money, nymph. More money and power than you can imagine. You think I won’t use them to—’

‘Do it,’ she interrupted, digging down into that stubborn streak of hers. ‘Get your lawyers. Sell this house. Have the police come to the door and try to arrest the woman pregnant with your child.’

The lines of his face had hardened, the air in the sitting room full of his thick, crackling anger. He looked like Zeus ready to pick up his thunderbolt and hurl it straight at her.

---