Page 150 of Modern Romance March 2025 (5-8)

He paused with his croissant halfway to his mouth, plate at the ready to catch the crumbs, thinking he understood, but also thinking he couldn’t possibly be hearing her correctly.

“Always?” he clarified.

“Every single time,” she said with a firm nod, gaze fixed on her spoon.

He set the pastry back on the plate and rubbed his fingertips against his thumb. The whisper of noise was the only sound until he cleared his throat.

“You’re…”

“Don’t call me that,” she warned. “Talk about a crime. People virgin-shame as much as they slut-shame.”

“You’re twenty-three,” he finished. “And very sensual.”

“You don’t know that,” she muttered.

“You smelled everything as you were cooking last night. It looked and tasted delicious. You wear cashmere and keep petting your robe. You blush every time I look at you as though you feel it.”

“I’m blushing because I was raised to believe that wanting sex is a sin!” she cried. “Especially outside marriage. Which doesn’t mean I’m holding out for that. That’s not what I’m saying.” She put out a stalling hand. “I’m saying that, until recently, I hadn’t met anyone who seemed, you know, worth risking going to hell for.”

He supposed that was a joke, but had to ask, “Recently? Or five years ago?”

“Both,” she threw at him with annoyance. “Getting fired for something that wasn’t my fault was awful, but what you did was worse. You set the bar up here.” She marked a spot in the air above her head. “Everyone who came after you was bland in comparison. I was waiting to feel something again and of course it had to beyou.”

Atlas set aside his plate, equally frustrated. “Why the hell do you think I never slept with Iris?”

“You have not gone five years without sex.”

“No.” He felt inexplicably chagrined as he made that admission. “But I thought the way I felt with you that night must have been a secondhand high from those lunatics in the tub. I’ve looked for chemistry like it ever since and never found it. Not until I saw you again.”

“Don’t say things like that,” she said crossly. “I’m gullible enough to buy it. If you want to talk ground rules, I insist on honesty. Don’t play on my lack of experience.”

“Honesty is rule number one for me, too,” he shot back. “Tied with monogamy.”

“I think I’ve established that other men are not a problem,” she grumbled.

“Good.” Was he smug? Hell, yes. “I had this week booked as vacation. We can go anywhere you like, but seeing as I have a party in London on the weekend, I suggest Paris or Milan, to find you something to wear. You’ll need cocktail dresses, too. You’ll have a little time for shopping when we’re in Athens, but we can order them now for Australia.”

“What? No. I can’t.” Her eyes flared with shock.

“Why the hell not?” If she had yanked a leash tied around his neck, he couldn’t have been more irritated or thwarted.

* * *

“Because I have to be back at work next week and gadding about with you would only make things worse.” Stella’s body was aching from a restless night. Her eyes were dry and her mind still in turmoil. “I put in a request for personal time this week.” To deal with her father, but she kept that to herself. “Hopefully, things will die down again by Monday, but I help my stepmother with expenses so I can’t risk losing my job.”

“Screw your job. I’ll cover whatever you need as long as we’re together.”

“I’m not taking money for sex! That’s not the kind of relationship I want with you.” She had friends who went into Sugar Daddy situations and good for them. She didn’t care how other adults conducted themselves, but relying financially on a man wasnotfor her. “I thought about this a lot last night and I’ve realized…” She drew a breath and let it out with the decision she’d made in the predawn hours. “Sex needs to happen or I’ll never get over you.”

Stella wasn’t sure how she had expected Atlas to react. Invite her to his bedroom, perhaps? He seemed like a man of action, but he only stared at her, expression inscrutable.

As the potent silence grew, the rat-a-tat of an approaching helicopter intensified.

“That’s my staff.” He looked toward a window that faced the helipad.

She slid off the stool and moved to where she could see it.

“That’s huge!” A helicopter three times the size of the one they’d arrived in descended onto the pad. It had a row of four windows and she saw silhouettes in every one of them. “How many people is that? I’ll get dressed.”

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