Page 228 of Modern Romance September 2025 5-8
‘Shall we get moving?’ His voice was light, as though that conversation hadn’t just taken place. Her eyes held his as her mind continued to ruminate, but she nodded.
‘Sure, let’s go.’
She knew, though, that no matter where they went, she wouldn’t let the conversation drop completely. She’d started to see more of Zeus, had begun to understand him, and she wouldn’t rest until that was complete. She had one week—she intended to use it fully.
The sunset was particularly beautiful, observed from the deck of the boat, which was moored in a cove on the other side of Crete, in the Gulf of Mesara. But it was not the most spectacular thing in Zeus’s vision. No. That would be Jane, swimming in the crystal-clear waters just off the boat, as though she’d recently discovered she was, in fact, half mermaid.
She ducked and dived beneath the surface, spun pirouettes, then emerged for air, her big blue eyes surrounded by dark lashes courtesy of the water, her hair plastered to her head.
He’d heard the expressionbreathtakingwithout really understanding that it could describe an actual physical phenomenon. Right now, looking at her, it felt as though his breath had been squeezed from his lungs. And not in the way he’d felt when his mother had died. That had winded him, had made him feel as though his own body was losing life.
He’d braced for it, yes. Or thought he had. But how could one really brace for that sort of loss? Months later, he still found it almost impossible to believe he was living in a world that was absent his mother. In a way, her having been sick for as long as she was had made that a new kind of normal. He was used to going to his parents’ place and taking up a book from the shelves, taking it to her and picking up wherever they’d left off. Or sometimes, she’d have something particular she wanted to hear about, and then she’d make a request of him, which he was always happy to oblige.
It had been three months, but the sense of being winded hadn’t really eased.
His father’s revelation about his affair and love child had been proverbial salt in the wound. It had hurt like the devil. To imagine his father sleeping with some other woman, while his mother suffered. While his mother faced what must have been every parent’s worst nightmare: the idea of leaving behind a beloved small child.
‘You’re sure you don’t want to swim?’ she called up to him.
He’d initially demurred. He rarely swam in the ocean, though he couldn’t really remember why. An old fear? A habit? A disinterest? There was a pool and spa on board. If he felt like swimming, he could use either of those.
But Jane’s delight in the raw, elemental ocean was like a lightning bolt bursting through him. She looked so free and unburdened, and suddenly, an urge to dive into the ocean and let it wash away his grief—a grief he kept so firmly locked inside that no one, not even Jane, not even here, could know.
Before she could ask again, he was pushing out of his slides at the same time as removing his shirt.
Her delighted expression was the hammer in the nail of his decision. What wouldn’t he give to see her features shine like that?
He took the steps down to the pontoon at the rear of the yacht, strode to the edge then dived in, surfacing right beside her. She spun to him and laughed, treading water easily, as though she swam often.
‘You’re like some kind of mermaid,’ he observed, kissing her softly, because he couldn’t resist.
‘I like the water. Always have.’
He caught her around the waist and held her close, his legs taking over the work of keeping them afloat. ‘Do you swim often?’
‘I was on the team at school,’ she replied. ‘It was a lot of early starts.’
‘And now?’
‘Now I prefer to swim for pleasure. There’s a Lido not far from my place. I go there a few times a week.’ She looked around, her expression serene. ‘It doesn’t really compare to this, though.’
‘No?’
She shook her head. ‘You must love coming out here.’
He considered her, felt something churn in his chest. Her vivacity and love of life were just so palpable. Even after the betrayal she’d endured, the hurt she’d lived with, Jane had still managed to hold on to something rare and precious: positivity.
‘Yes,’ he agreed, simply, because she was right. He did love being on the water. It made him feel elemental and powerful again, but also human, because it was a stark reminder of how much more powerful the ocean was. ‘Though I tend to swim on the boat.’
Her brows lifted skyward. ‘There’s a pool on the boat?’
He laughed. ‘And a spa.’
She let out a low whistle. ‘I mean, it’s obviously fancy. I just didn’t expect…’ She trailed off and shrugged. ‘I get the impression you work a lot,’ she said after a beat. ‘Does that leave much time for this?’ She gestured towards the boat and then the sunset.
His eyes roamed her face, and he was transfixed. Not just by her beauty, but by the ability she had to ask the kinds of questions he usually sidestepped with ease, in just such a way that made him want to bare his soul to her.
It had to be because she was leaving within a week. There was a security that came from that, a certainty that no matter what happened between them, it wouldn’t change either of their futures. He was destined for a pragmatic, sensible marriage, to jump through the hoops so he could inherit the company he’d always considered his by right. And she… He frowned reflexively. What did Jane’s future hold?
