Page 135 of Modern Romance March 2025 (5-8)

Which was a disconcerting impulse, especially today of all days. The edginess that had been plaguing him returned a thousandfold.

“I should—” she began.

“Where did you go that night? I was going to take you home.” He didn’t mean to speak over her, but he had always wondered if she had arrived home safely.

She must have. She was here, alive, snorting with disbelief.

“You left to avoid the police.” He’d always wondered about that, too. “Is that why you kissed me? To keep me from calling them?”

* * *

“What?No.” Stella’s stomach had been rolling like a cement mixer from the second she’d started to thank a stranger for holding a door only to come face-to-face with her nemesis.

How did he even remember her? Most people forgot her in five minutes. She might be tall, but she wasn’t memorable otherwise. She was ordinary and deliberately quiet and had a boring personality because she never did anything interesting. She kept her head down, worked hard, and stayed out of trouble.

Yet here she was, faced with a man who had only grown more handsome over the years. He wore tailored trousers over heavy-soled, laced boots and a quilted winter jacket with the Davenwear logo. His jaw was clean-shaven, his hair shorter than it had been five years ago. Snowflakes were melting on his black curls and his eyes still held that compelling light in their bronze depths. His mouth—

Don’t look at his mouth!

Her brain was zigzagging, trying to undo this meeting while her composure was just as confused. Part of her wanted to run away screaming. An equally unnerving elation pinned her feet to the ground while something in her sang,It’s you!Which didn’t make sense. She wasn’t happy to see him. She low-key hated him and his family. High-key, really, because of all the hardship they’d caused her. Theshame.

“Why then?” he demanded.

Why had she kissed him? He could pull all her fingernails before she would admit she’d been overdue for her first kiss. And that she’d wanted it to come fromhim.

“I thought the police might look me up and call my father.”

“What if they had? How oldwereyou?” he demanded with an appalled glare.

“Nearly nineteen. I told you that.” She looked to the lid of her coffee to be sure she wasn’t spilling any. “I took some money from him when I left. He was angry. I’ve since paid him back.” She wasn’t sure why she told him that. It didn’t really exonerate her and it wasn’t a good memory. Repaying her father hadn’t prompted any sort of forgiveness. He’d never loved her the way a father should and never would.

“Being assaulted by drunks was preferable to living at home?” It was a grimly perceptive summation of her childhood.

She jerked her shoulder in a half shrug, then looked into the falling snow.

“I should go. I’m on my lunch break and I don’t want to lose my job. Again.” It was as spiteful as she would allow herself to be. This town existed on tourists, especially the rich ones. She hadn’t risen to the position she enjoyed by talking back to them.

“Again?” he repeated, stepping forward to catch at her elbow before she could turn away. “What do you mean? My father had the chalet manager fired. Which he deserved.” His unflinching stare dared her to contradict him. “You weren’t fired, too?”

“Of course I was.Andkicked out of my residence.” She closed her hand tighter on the bag holding her croissant and disdainfully lifted her elbow from his loose grip.

He narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

“Why do you think?” she choked out. “I only went into your room because you invited me.” She leaned in even though the weather had reduced the pedestrians to near zero. “I didn’t mean for anything to happen.”

Heat consumed her and her voice wavered as she stared at the angry slant of his mouth. Those stern lips had ravished hers. His clenched hand had cradled her naked breast. His erection had pressed against her thigh.

“I didn’t thinkyouwere a victim of anything,” she continued shakily. “But I was accused of taking advantage of a guest. ‘Fraternizing for my own gain.’ Because you lent me clothes that you get for free, I guess? They refused to pay me the wages they owed me as punishment.”

She’d actually been slut-shamed with a blistering lecture in front of the office staff when she’d gone in to protest. She still writhed on the flames of that humiliation.

“And now you’ve ruined my appetite!” She set her coffee and croissant on the nearest table, turned up her collar and stepped into the falling snow.

“Stella.” He caught her arm again.

Some wicked, sinful, foolish part of her was thrilled. She twisted to face him, held her breath, pulse fluttering in her throat as she waited for his apology. Waited for him to say something meaningful. Something that told her he’d thought about her as often as she’d thought about him.

“That shouldn’t have happened. None of it.” He was speaking under his breath, his words a cloud of breath that was heavy with dismay. “I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

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