Page 21 of Modern Romance September 2025 5-8
But now she was beginning to realise that still waters ran deep, very deep indeed. All this time, he too had been tormented by excoriating desire. So much so that he’d had to take preventative action to keep it from devouring him, just as she had. So much so that this evening, he’d jettisoned the principles of a lifetime. He’d put himself and what he wanted first for once, which, unbelievably, was her.
She’d always believed him to be pragmatic and level-headed, a paragon of steadfastness and equanimity. But clearly, that was not all he was. She’d never heard him speak so heatedly. She’d never seen him look so deranged. He’d certainly never paced like that in all the time she’d known him. In fact, she distinctly recalled him once telling her that such behaviour represented a loss of control and was therefore totally unacceptable. Clearly, then, the depth of his feelings for her had taken him by as much surprise as hers for him had taken her.
But if hewasmore complicated than the saintly ideal she’d placed on an impossibly high pedestal, what did that mean for her love? That it was superficial and shallow? That it only valued the simple and the good and couldn’t withstand the infinitely more layered and possibly even flawed reality of him?
No.
She refused to believe that.
Her love was true. It wasn’t starry-eyed—at least, not any more. This last week had proved that it was messy, laced with frustration and disappointment, and it hadn’t collapsed. It had survived.
She hadn’t wanted to acknowledge the shift in her feelings because she’d been in search of a relationship as far from her parents’ as it was possible to get. But now she could see that she may have been a little too harsh on them. Tonight, she’d felt for herself and witnessed in Ivo how swiftly passion could overheat and spill out as anger and frustration.
The difference was that betweenthemthings hadn’t escalated. Things hadn’t descended into acrimony and hate. Her outburst on the terrace had come and gone in a flash. Ivo had walked away from his just now without losing his temper. Neither of them had delighted in the feelings that had overtaken them. Both of them had managed to get a grip. And look at how cool she’d been when she’d had to explain how she felt about his behaviour the night of their wedding.
Ever since the crushing aftermath of that experience, Sofia had been doing her best to resist the attraction to protect her heart. She’d been fighting to keep her admiration for his strong sense of duty from turning into bitterness and resentment. Relentlessly reminding herself to heed the advice of her mother-in-law, she’d tried to rise above the maddening desire that challenged her sense of self-preservation.
Yet she’d been fighting a losing battle. The fifteen minutes he’d allowed her on the terrace had proven that. She’d tried to figure out what was going on with herself but had come up with nothing, which had been as worrying as it had been perplexing because she always had a plan. The fact that she hadn’t been able to find a way through was why she’d had to cloak herself in extra ice to get her though the rest of the evening.
Now she could admit that it wasn’t just the pressure of the job that had got to her earlier. It was the pressure of recklessly dreaming of things she knew she couldn’t have, of struggling to keep her feelings under control when they were growing and changing and deepening in a way she’d never anticipated.
But some of those feelings weren’t unrequited at all. The scorching attraction was mutual. What exactly had he planned to do to her, first on their wedding day, then tonight, and after that, tomorrow? How had he planned to drive her wild? She badly wanted to find out.
And, now she was thinking,Why shouldn’t she?
This relationship wasn’t as one-sided as she’d assumed. If one removed love from the equation, it was actually pretty balanced, especially now he’d laid all his cards on the table.
And perhaps passion wasn’t to be feared, after all. She’d worried about the damage it could do if indulged, but she’d discovered this evening that that didn’t have to be the case. She could express her emotions, however volatile, and chaos would not necessarily ensue. If they kept it confined to the bedroom, they could find the physical release they both craved. The pressure elsewhere would ease. Ivo was right about the unfeasibility of the current state of affairs. They had to dissipate the unbearable tension somehow.
So why was she dithering? Why did she feel as though she could be playing with fire? Their connection would be a physical one, nothing more. She didn’t have to confess her love for him. She wouldn’t be risking her heart. She could still keep it safe from harm. She’d just have to double down on her efforts to keep it locked up. She knew perfectly well that the vision of a proper relationship, which she glimpsed when they were out and about, wasn’t what he was offering for real.
But what hewasoffering was a safe, contained way to embrace the chemistry that was so real it burned. A chance to combine love and passion without it descending into chaos and destruction. So was she really going to stand here all night when she had a husband who wanted her as much as she wanted him? When the promise of spending the whole of tomorrow testing their attraction to each other hovered in the ether? When in this at least she was his number one priority?
No, she was not.
CHAPTER NINE
STANDING BESIDE THEfour-poster bed that mocked him with its pristine vastness, Ivo kicked off his shoes and tore off his tail-coat. What onearthhad happened back there? he railed at himself as he yanked free his bow-tie and threw it on the floor. All he’d meant to do was set Sofia straight. Instead, he’d ended up practically emptying out his soul.
Had he deployed logic? Thoughtful consideration? Restraint? Like hell he had. By the time he’d finished—and God, he’d gone on fordays—he’d sounded desperate. Weak. Pathetic and powerless and utterly out of control. He’d even paced! For the first time in years he’d completely humiliated himself. And for what? For nothing. Because in response to his mortifying confession, Sofia had barely evenblinked.
How could heeverhave succumbed to such atrocious sentiment? he wondered grimly as he wrestled with the buttons of his shirt before simply pulling it apart so that they popped and spun off in a dozen different directions. Or allowed himself to want something for himself? How could he have crossed that line when he’d spent the last ten years avoiding it like the plague? Was there any coming back from what he’d done?
This was supposed to be a trouble-free marriage of convenience, not one riddled with conflict and tempestuousness. He needed to keep his emotions locked up to protect his heart and stay focused on the job for the stability of his country. After tonight’s display of lunacy, his grandfather would be cheering from the heavens. His father would be turning in his grave.
Ivo had no idea how he was going to handle the storm raging inside him. He wanted to shake his fist at the sky and then slam it through the wall. But he’d spent two years in the army. He was no stranger to self-discipline. He’d get it under control somehow. The minute he’d undone these bloody cuff-links, he’d cancel their day off tomorrow. God only knew what had been going through his head when he’d instructed it to be scheduled into the itinerary. A break? How self-centred was that? And then to have contemplated abandoning the plans he’d made for an all-day sex marathon instead… He must have been even more out of his tiny little mind than he’d thought.
He’d soon come to see that it was a good thing she’d turned him down, he assured himself as he finally freed the discs of gold. The last thing their physical relationship needed was emotion. He’d sworn a decade ago that he would never get sucked under again. How had Sofia described her outburst on the terrace? A blip? Well, that was what the last half hour had been for him. He’d forget it ever happened. As ever, denial was his friend.
The cuff-links that he’d inherited from his father he set on the bedside table. The shirt he ripped from his back and hurled at the chair. He was just about to tackle his trousers when the door flung open.
Ivo jerked round.
At the sight of Sofia standing in the space, he froze. His pulse spiked. His blood shot to his feet so fast that his head spun.
What the hell was she doing here? Hadn’t he borne enough this evening? ‘What do you want?’ he snapped, sounding as though he’d swallowed a bucket of gravel.
‘You,’ she said hoarsely. ‘I want you.’
