Page 203 of Modern Romance September 2026 Books 5-8

“One reason among many,” he said.

The boat skimmed along in the glassy waters, leaving a trail of ripples that widened until they hit the shores of the islands they passed. Gustav had once dreamed of a life like this, far away from the mainland and the palace games, before he had learned that his fate was inescapable. One could not simply leave the Royal House of af Isborg and be done with it.

But no matter how many accomplishments he had or how far he had gone, his backhanded title had clung to him, a stench that he couldn’t get rid of no matter how many times he had tried. The Bastard Spare. Still, he had dreamed of escape. And he could now admit to himself that in every one of those fantasies, the memory of Livia slipped in, surrounded by the rush of the river at night. All those years ago, she had spoken words of rebellion he hadn’t yet dared to think, rejecting the forces of order in his life that had felt immutable. And she had spoken them with distractingly lush lips.

But that had ended, and Gustav had returned here, where he’d had the sea. The sea didn’t care about titles, and the island didn’t do special favors when one needed to navigate its rocky shoals. And though he could not escape the confines of his place in the world, he had found a reprieve here. A place to retreat and plan and await the opportunity to use his title to take down the forces that had made him into what he was. He would be the prince that saved the country, not sullied its name.

“And you? Weren’t you planning to get a biology degree?”

Livia’s smile fell. “That was…postponed.”

“Postponed because…?”

She looked away. “It’s not important. I have been very happy working on land management with my father.”

He heard the hesitancy in her voice and wanted to press her about the postponement, but he let it be. Later.

The afternoon drifted by. Patterns of wispy clouds spilled out over the sky, echoing patterns and swirls, as if the sky itself was unveiling its own wedding present, just for them. Livia glanced up at the sky, and when she looked at him again, a bit of the dazed wonder had returned to her gaze. And Gustav found that he very much liked that.

They anchored in the inlet late in the afternoon, and at eight o’clock, Livia emerged on the open deck. Her hair was piled on top of her head in an elegant twist, showing off dangling earrings that sparkled from her ears next to the slim column of her neck. She wore a long red dress with only the thinnest of straps that exposed the hollow of her throat. His gaze wandered over her proud shoulders and the soft, creamy skin of her arms, then to the neckline that plunged to show the swell of her breasts. She settled next to him on the bench at an angle that gave him a tempting view down the front of her dress. He felt a stir in his body, one that was getting harder to ignore, and when she caught him looking, she didn’t move away.

He let his gaze linger on her breasts, then lowered it to the swell of her hips, noting all the places she had filled out and changed. Because all of this was a change, one that he was determined to appreciate. In her wedding dress, he had seen an almost bewildered innocence at times in her expression, mixed with a hint of hope. Now he saw something much different. It was seductive. Determined.

When his gaze returned to her face, there was a hint of a smile that curved on her lips. Yes, she knew exactly what she was doing. And he was going to enjoy it because, ultimately, he still wielded the power here—he was a prince, after all—and he would exploit every advantage of his position.

And if she walked away? At least she wouldn’t marry Edvin. He told himself that was enough.

Chapter Seven

For the last four months, Livia had learned how to be a princess. She had trained herself to smile, to add small encouraging comments to the conversation that showed she was listening and not thinking about her escape plan. Of course, her tutor hadn’t stated these expectations directly. She had couched her advice in euphemisms like, Keep in mind that travel causes significant stress for the crown prince. He would very much appreciate returning to a home that places few demands on him. Livia had only half listened to these monologues as she sipped her tea and selected elegant pastries from the silver tray, making sure she didn’t spill crumbs down the front of her dress. She didn’t care. She had never imagined she would need this information beyond a handful of stilted conversations with Edvin in the coming year.

At first, Livia had assumed that her tutor was assigned to teach her royal protocol, but after a few afternoons with Weronica, she had started to suspect that each lesson was an exercise in learning to believe in the sanctity of the crown prince’s role with all her heart. She needed to not just comfort him but to believe that his comfort was her most important job. If royalty was to be raised with a silver spoon in their mouth, Livia was made to understand that she herself was that silver spoon—elegant, useful, even valuable, but ultimately replaceable with another just like it.

With Gustav, it was different. Both his vengeance and his desire felt so very personal. So very intimate. Even though he denied it, she could feel it was true. She had come so close to kissing him earlier on this deck. The only thing that had held her back was the fear she would lose her mind the way she had at the altar. She only had to recall the way everything else faded away except his touch, both soft and possessive, and the heat would return, like a molten river in her veins.

How long could she resist?

She had ached to run her hands down the hard muscles of his chest. Yes, she was still furious at him for toying with her life, but that anger was far less of a deterrent than she had hoped. Livia flashed back to those first moments in the hallway, to the softness she had felt as his hand rested on her cheek, the way he had looked at her in the church, like she was everything.

She needed to find a way back to that softness so she could sway Gustav’s decisions. And she knew that the easiest path was intimacy. Or at least that was what she was telling herself. An image appeared in her mind of his body over hers, his shoulder muscles flexing as he thrust, again and again, into her willing body. Livia let out a shaky breath as heat flooded through her. Intimacy was the best path back to that softness, that openness she had briefly seen. But touching Gustav again could awaken a hunger that made her sister’s needs fade from the front of her mind. Which absolutely could not happen.

Livia found Gustav reclining on the seats that lined the aft deck. He had changed into loose gray trousers and a soft white shirt that outlined his muscular shoulders. In the glow of the evening sun, his tanned skin took on a golden hue. Walking off the plane, he had looked every bit the prince he was. Now lounging, his body was on display, strengthened by outdoor labor and hinting at something very different.

The door from the cabin opened behind her, and the staff busied themselves with setting the glassware and silverware, then brought tray after tray of food to the table. Gustav escorted her to the table, his hand brushing the small of her back, spreading heat through her.

The courses began: wild nettle soup, delicate Baltic cod with sweet root vegetables, fresh breads and crisp crackers and so many of the specialty cheeses the island nation was known for. Food had been one of her favorite things about her part-time move to Isrikesland. Livia couldn’t claim to love everything she’d tried, and some of the traditional fish preparations she had found…pungent, but the discovery, the newness of it all was one of the best things about Isrikesland.

Livia tasted the wild nettle soup, then turned to Gustav. “I once read a book where the hero was the pirate captain of a riverboat hundreds of years ago in England,” she said. “He held the heroine hostage for a while.”

She left out the part about what happened on their nights together. And the fact that the kidnapped-by-a-pirate trope had its appeal.

Gustav’s laugh was throaty and sensual. “Interesting story. At least sanitary conditions have improved for pirates’ hostages over the last hundred years.”

“I have no complaints, at least not about my accommodations,” she said tartly.

He lifted an eyebrow. “Do you have complaints about your husband?”

Husband. The word did something strange inside her, something that made her restless. Livia knew confrontation was the wrong approach, but she couldn’t stop herself.