Page 79 of Modern Romance September 2026 Books 1-4

‘But you did.’ Challenge burned in his dark blue eyes. ‘You were clutching my shirt by the end of it.’

Heat washed through her, and she wished she could think of a good excuse for the way she’d clutched him, but there wasn’t one. He wouldn’t believe her anyway. ‘So?’ She lifted her chin. ‘I’m not sleeping with you, Isandro. I told you that and I meant it.’

He glanced away, giving the crowd a sweeping glance before stepping abruptly closer. ‘Let’s not argue about this here,’ he murmured, leaning down so his mouth was near her ear, the warmth of his breath brushing her skin. ‘We’re supposed to be in love, remember?’

Every part of her ached to push him away or maybe to turn and run from the room, but she couldn’t. This was the act she’d agreed to, and she had a role to play. So she stood there, unable to stop from trembling at his nearness as his scent and heat swamped her. ‘L-lovers can argue,’ she said huskily.

‘They can,’ he agreed, his mouth brushing her ear, scorching her skin. ‘But not on their first public event together.’

This wasn’t fair. He was being so deliberate, knowing how weak she was when it came to him, and so she had to do something. She had to fight him somehow, and the only way she could was to resist.

He’s expecting you to resist, though. What he’s not expecting is for you to give in.

Giving in was the exact opposite of what she’d intended, but her only thought now was to surprise him, put him on the back foot for a change. So, without thinking too deeply about it, she turned and brushed her own mouth over his in a lightning-fast butterfly kiss. He stiffened in surprise, and so, pressing her advantage, she took her mouth away and lifted a hand to his cheek, lightly touching his skin. ‘I meant it,’ she said quietly and with emphasis as she gave him a glowing, radiant smile for the public’s benefit. ‘Don’t cross me, my king. If you do, you’ll regret it.’

It was satisfying to see him look at her as if she were someone new he’d only just met. But that lasted only a second, as a hot blue flame ignited in his eyes. ‘That,’ he said with equal emphasis, ‘was a mistake, little bird. You know I can never resist a challenge.’

Oh, she knew. But now it was out in the open. Now he knew she was onto him and now she’d do everything in her power to thwart him.

Anticipation wound through her, though it really shouldn’t have been there. He’d always excited her and not just sexually. The way he thought fascinated her, and his vision for Valdora inspired her. He was a big-picture thinker, and she’d loved listening to him talk about his ideas and plans. It made every work day new and different, and she’d started to realise that he wasn’t the only one who liked a challenge. She did, too.

A wave of powerful emotion caught her as she looked into his inky gaze. Excitement. Desire. Anticipation… Love.

Why keep your distance from him? When you want him with every breath in you?

A good question. What was the point of resisting when she felt this way? What was she trying to protect herself from? But it always came back to her mother. To Lily sitting her down when she’d been five years old and telling her that she was leaving, and that Wren would be going to live with her grandparents. Explaining that Wren’s father didn’t want any more children, and so Wren couldn’t come with her. She had to stay behind.

‘I’m sorry,’ Lily had told her when Wren had asked why. ‘But I love him. You’ll understand one day.’

But Wren had never understood. All she knew was that her mother hadn’t loved her as much as she’d loved Wren’s father, that he hadn’t wanted her at all, and that her grandparents had only found her a burden, so maybe there was something wrong with her. Maybe she wasn’t someone anyone could love, especially not a man like Isandro.

So no, she couldn’t fall into his arms, couldn’t tell him how she felt. She was too afraid of his response. Too afraid to have confirmation of how she’d always felt about herself, that she wasn’t worthy of anyone’s love, certainly not that of a king.

Instead, she was the one who stepped away first, her head held high. ‘You know,’ she said, ‘I really think I need to go to bed. Please apologise to the guests for me.’

Then she turned around and fled the ballroom before he could stop her.

* * *

Isandro sat in his office, moodily sipping on a tumbler of very old and very good Scotch. He’d finally been able to escape the ballroom after the majority of the guests had left, but, despite the hour, he wasn’t tired. There were too many thoughts going around and round in his head.

He should be thinking about the ball, and how he and Wren had been received, perhaps setting up some meetings with the palace PR for the next morning, so he could have a debrief. But he wasn’t.

All he could think about was Wren.

He’d been so pleased with himself about that kiss on the terrace. She’d responded as passionately as he’d hoped, and he’d been conscious of how she’d kept looking at him afterwards, as if she couldn’t bring herself to look away.

He’d thought that, after the ball, she might want more of that kiss, and he’d planned to take her somewhere private, to relive the moment. Priming her for their wedding night. Making her think about that afternoon on his desk. Making her want more, then leaving her hungry.

But…she’d seen through his plan. She’d known exactly what he was doing. He’d tried to sidestep it, and she hadn’t let him, so, of course, he’d challenged her about how much she’d wanted that kiss.

She hadn’t denied it, not that she could, but yet again she’d insisted that she wasn’t sleeping with him, determination glowing in her eyes. He didn’t know why she was resisting him so hard. She hadn’t that afternoon in his office, no, she’d kissed him as passionately as he’d kissed her, clinging to him as if she never wanted to let him go.

It made no sense. There had been strong reasons to hold back before, but now those reasons had gone. There was nothing to keep them from each other, so why was she so determined to stay away?

There had been that moment, though, when she’d turned her face unexpectedly and her mouth had brushed over his in a kiss he hadn’t expected. Then she’d touched his cheek so very gently. Something fierce had glowed in her silver eyes, something molten, and she’d challenged him very directly.

Don’t cross me, my king.