Page 159 of Modern Romance Collection February 2025, 1-4

But helping us to do what? Helping us be civil to each other, yes—and to understand each other more, to see where we are coming from, each of us. But it can’t change anything else. I still wish I had not got pregnant. And, given that I am, I still want to move somewhere on my own to have my baby, not be dependent on Vincenzo.

Her thoughts were turbid. If he could finally believe she wasn’t interested in his money, now that she understood where that fear had come from—that I might be like his father’s second wife—couldn’t he accept her making a home for herself and the baby? If he wanted, he could visit from time to time—set up a trust fund or whatever, if he felt that was his responsibility. Wouldn’t that be more feasible, now that they were not at war any longer?

She broke her gaze, letting it go back out over the bustling promenade. She was very conscious of Vincenzo’s presence so close across the table. Conscious, too, that there was another reason other than her being independent for not giving him any grounds to think she was after his money, for why she wanted him at a distance once the baby arrived.

Because anything else is dangerous...

She felt her gaze wanting to return to his face, and that was proof itself of the danger she felt flickering around her.

He was dangerous to me that night at the Falcone—disastrously so. And for all that the hostility and accusations between us are gone, that danger is still there.

Lethal. That was what Megan had called his darkly handsome looks—and it was an apt word. Didn’t just sitting here having lunch with him demonstrate that, with every female around turning their heads just because he was there?

I have to keep myself safe from him, safe from the danger he is to me...to my heart. It’s not as though he would ever truly see a future with someone like me—if he sees a future with anyone at all. So it’s safest, surely, just to focus on what we are doing now—getting used to each other, letting there be some kind of peace between us. Asking nothing more than that. Wanting nothing more than that... Not letting myself want more.

Because that would only spell danger.

She gave a silent sigh. Life was already far too complicated to allow anything more into it. All she must focus on was the baby—nothing else.

Nothing else at all...

Least of all the man she had been unable to resist that fateful night, who had brought her to the now she had to deal with.

CHAPTER NINE

LYMEREGISWASjust as Siena had said. They walked along the Cobb, with Siena pointing out the steps that featured so dramatically in the Jane Austen novel. Out at the far end the sea breeze was stronger, buffeting them both. Vincenzo put his arm around Siena’s shoulder to steady her. He’d made the gesture without thinking about it, but the moment he did he almost drew back. She’d stiffened, tensed.

‘I don’t want you blown into the sea,’ he said.

‘It is definitely windier here,’ she allowed.

He felt the tension in her shoulders subside fractionally. All the same, as soon as the gust passed he lowered his arm.

They stood awhile, braced against the buffeting wind, watching it whipping up the water. The sun was bright, turning the sea to scintillating diamonds.

‘We could take another boat trip if you like,’ Vincenzo said.

They’d done so a few days ago, cruising sedately along the shoreline and back again. It had been pleasant, sitting against the gunwale, watching the other passengers taking photographs of the shore passing them by.

‘It looks a bit too bumpy today,’ Siena said. ‘That’s quite a strong swell. I think.’

‘Then we shall pass,’ Vincenzo said. ‘Perhaps we could try our hand at fossil-hunting after lunch?’ he asked. Fossils, he had learnt, were something Lyme Regis was famous for.

‘That might be fun,’ Siena said.

She was still being careful with him, Vincenzo could tell. But then he was being careful with her. Scrupulously polite, courteously conversational.

They stepped off the Cobb and headed towards the town, choosing a pub that served fresh-caught fish for lunch, eating indoors this time, as the wind was so brisk. The low-pitched, smoke-darkened beams were atmospheric, and although the place was designed to cater for tourists, the fresh fish was indeed very tasty.

Afterwards they ventured along the start of the Undercliff, having purchased a guide to Lyme’s fossils from a handy souvenir shop. The raised beach was strewn with boulders, and difficult walking terrain, so Vincenzo kept his eyes fixed on Siena, who took her steps carefully. They spotted a large rounded rock, suitable for perching, and did so. Vincenzo opened the fossil guide and they discussed the fossils the place was famous for, and what might yet be found.

‘As it’s called the Ammonite Pavement,’ Siena commented, ‘I guess that’s what we’ll see most of.’

It was—and quite spectacularly so.

‘It makes one realise,’ Vincenzo said slowly, ‘how brief a span of time we occupy on this earth...how short a lifetime is...’

She was silent a moment. Then: ‘Some are very short indeed...’

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