Page 199 of Modern Romance March 2025 (5-8)

“I’m sorry for your loss.” And there she was, apologizing again. He lifted the corners of his mouth but it wasn’t a true smile.

“You’re very kind.”

They sat in silence for a moment, lost in their own thoughts as soft conversations and the strains of Chopin hung faintly in the air.

“It’s not something I talk about in public,” Desmond said, after a while. His eyes still seemed to be focused on something far away. “He died in an accident some years back. Plane crash.”

The words were said so baldly that Val’s breath caught in her throat. “That must have been devastating.”

“It was.” His face hadn’t changed expression but his voice had quieted; she had to lean in to hear him above the chatter and clinking glassware. “I am privileged enough to ensure with my business—our business…that his legacy didn’t die with him.”

“That’s very…noble.” Val hoped her words sounded sincere; she meant them, but there was something about Desmond in this moment that meant she didn’t trust her voice.

He looked at her; his eyes were dark and liquid and she involuntarily lifted a hand to her neck. His gaze was making her pulse thrum like a hummingbird in her throat. “He would be so proud.”

The storm in those eyes had increased till the color was nearly obliterated; all she could see was black. “Kind words,” he said after a moment, and bitterness entered his voice. “Empty, but kind.”

What?

“I did not intend—”

“My father might hate what I’ve done with this company. How would you know?Ibarely know what he would think.”

She had no idea what to say to that.

“Are your parents proud of you, Miss Montgomery?” he asked coldly.

Well,thatwas certainly a shift in conversation. A lump rose hard and fast to the same place where her pulse beat. “My, um—”

“I’m just curious.”

“Well, I—”

Desmond’s eyes fell on her lap where she knotted her hands, and he raised his brows.

“Am I making you nervous, Miss Montgomery?”

“A little.” She might as well be frank. “This conversation…”

“Has become a little heavy?”

“Well…”

He smiled, and in a flash the introspection was gone, replaced by the familiar smirk. “My apologies. Consider us back in shallow waters.”

“No, I didn’t mean…” Val fumbled. Oh, how had she managed to bungle this up so badly? And why did she mind so much that he’d withdrawn from her, despite her relief that his question had ended up being rhetorical? He’d clearly launched that question out at her like a grenade to throw her off balance, and it had worked. “Mr. Tesfay—”

“No, no, no need to explain.”

“Well…all right.”

“I need something. Anything at all,” Desmond continued, taking up his former line of conversation with ease. “You know as well as I do that these things often come down to some arbitrary thing. A shared interest, membership of the same club, a brand of whiskey…? Although I know he doesn’t drink,” he added.

Shallow waters.It was much easier to breathe now that he had changed the subject, that was for sure. She found herself licking her lips, gathering her wits and answering in kind.

“Ignoring the fact that revealing information like this would be very indiscreet of me, that would be giving you quite the unfair advantage, wouldn’t it?”

“It absolutely would.”

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