Page 45 of Modern Romance October 2025 5-8
Bethan weaved alongthe busy footpath, that prickling sensation down her spine worsening. She’d met Ashleigh at a cafe only ten minutes from the escape room and indulged in a ninety-minute lunch. Hearing about Ashleigh’s study, about Elodie’s travels and sharing news about Phoebe, who was now back in Italy, was the perfect distraction from her circuitous thoughts. And from the devastation of opening a courier package this morning and finding her divorce decree inside. She was officially, legally single. She and Ares were done.
She’d not told Ashleigh. She’d just arranged to meet her for lunch again in a week. She was going to a theatre show tonight and a gallery exhibition later in a few days. All with work contacts. Work was everything. It was how she would survive.
But before getting to the door she glanced around. She’d noticed the enormous SUV with tinted windows parked across the street from the cafe but dismissed it. Now the same vehicle was idling opposite the escape room entrance. No way would it be him—that idea was a mere weak-moment wish. But her gut tightened, forcing her to check. She stomped straight across the road, pacing in time to her thudding heart. As she neared, the rear passenger window slid down. Grey-blue eyes raked over her. Stubble shadowed a particularly sharp jaw. Bethan glared into his drawn—still devastating—features. Seriously? Today of all days?
‘Are you following me?’ she growled through the window.
‘I didn’t want to interrupt you,’ he said tightly. ‘I wanted to wait ’til—’
‘When?’she queried furiously. ‘Until when, exactly? What do you actually need before you can—?’ She broke off, breathless.
And this was pointless. They were done. The decree proved it. But just as she backed away, he opened the door, grabbed her arm and tugged. She tumbled, sprawling onto the back seat. She heard the door thud and a rapid instruction in Greek. One she understood.Move.
‘What are you doing?’ she demanded, scraping herself up and into the corner as far from him as possible. ‘Ares!’
‘Put your seat belt on,’ he said.
‘What?’ She gaped.
His cheeks were flushed and his breathing was visibly jerky but he grabbed the strap from behind her shoulder and fastened it around her—the action bringing him so close she could smell him. She only need lean an inch forward to brush—
‘You need to be safe,’ he said roughly.
‘Stalking me and kidnapping me off the street is your idea ofsafe?’
He leaned back and jammed his own seat belt home. ‘I’ll stop the car if you want, but I hope you’ll hear what I have to say first.’
Bethan’s brain fuzzed. What could he possibly want to say? And she didnotwant to be in an enclosed space with him. The driver was Ares’s employee and behind a screen and didn’t count as a normal functioning human in this arena. She glanced away as her heart skipped too many beats to supply her brain with anywhere near like enough power.
‘Saywhat, Ares?’ she prompted. ‘Hurry up and spit it out.’
Silence. Three counts. Four. Was he counting? Because she was. She made it to seven before—
‘Bethan,’ he muttered softly.
She closed her eyes against that thread of humour, that rich vein of temptation. The whisper she’d never been able to resist. And in the end that magnetism was still too much. Cursing her weakness, she looked at him. He was fully focused on her. She blinked, noting other details to dilute the impact of those stormy eyes. His hair was ruffled, his complexion paler than normal, his jaw-line even more sculpted as if he was gritting his teeth. He didn’t look as if he’d been sleeping well. Didn’t look as if he’d been working much either, given he wasn’t in a suit but jeans and an old tee. It was grey—highlighting the slate blue of his eyes—the tee he’d been wearing the day they’d met. She didn’t want to believe that was deliberate, but there was that swirling, raw emotion in his eyes.
‘I love you,’ he said.
Time froze. So did she. Didn’t want to decide whether what she’d heard was real or not.
‘I love you, Bethan.’ Not a sweet whisper but a husky, broken declaration.
Still she couldn’t breathe. Or believe. But those three words sank like little stones deep inside.
He suddenly leaned towards her until the belt jerked and held him back. ‘I love you.’ He rushed on. ‘I am absolutely, utterly, completely in love with you and I know there’s so much more I need to say but first I just need you to know I love you.’
But it was too late. They were divorced. Their marriage was dead.
‘Ares.’ To her horror she couldn’t get her voice above a pitiful mewl. ‘Don’t... I can’t...’ She couldn’t survive losing him again. ‘We’re done. The divorce...’
‘Came through. I know. And I’m so sorry.’
Devastated, she could only stare at him as tears filled her eyes.
His expression pinched. ‘The thing about being driven at speed is we have to stay in our seats, belted up, right? Can’t touch. Because my problem is I can’t resist touching you. My first instinct is to touch you, take you, keep you close. It’s what I always want to do when you’re near. But I’ve not been great at opening up about why. About anything, really. But right now I can’t touch you how I want because this car is moving—’
‘You’re saying you need to be physically restrained around me?’
