Page 204 of Modern Romance September 2026 Books 5-8

“Why are we on a honeymoon, Gustav?” she demanded. “You could have let me go to my island in Greece after the ceremony.”

“And let the world think I neglected the most pleasurable part of marriage?” His voice was husky, and a smile teased at the corners of his lips. Which got further under her skin.

“So this is just for show? I could sleep in the other bedroom—nobody would know.”

“Absolutely not.” His smile faded.

“Then why?”

“I want you.” The smug satisfaction in his voice was exactly what she would expect from a prince.

“You want me, or you want to win?” she grumbled.

“Can’t both be true?”

“No. Not in the ways that matter most.”

He gave her a look of appraisal.

“Now I have a question for you,” he said, and she could feel the tension between them tightening. “In all the months of your attachment to my brother, did you not think you would come face-to-face with me?”

Livia looked away, at the quiet deck of the boat and the still waters that surrounded them. The inlet where they had anchored protected them from any winds from the sea. But when she looked at Gustav again, his eyes were a storm, threatening to unleash its power.

“The idea crossed my mind, of course,” she admitted, “but I imagined I would see you somewhere formal. Not like this.”

“You didn’t think I’d find a way to come for you?” He shook his head, and his smile was a flash of lightning, warning of the coming thunderclap. “Then you don’t know me at all, Livia.”

Her instinct was to throw his accusation back at him—hadn’t he claimed he didn’t know her when she was trying to bridge their distance? But the more she sat with it, the more his words cut. Maybe a part of her had wondered if he would come for her, but she had shut that thought down. No one was coming to save her. She needed to save herself.

There was no way to tell Gustav about the complicated mess that this had all become—not without revealing how vulnerable Adele was. Which Gustav could use in his scorch-the-earth plans. Or even use against her.

Livia only vaguely remembered the rest of the meal, but when the glass dishes of the rhubarb parfait were cleared and the last sip of champagne made a cool trail down her throat, all she could think about was what came next. The bedroom. Could she convince him to hold off on tearing down everything around him—and destroying her life—until she came up with a better idea? The moment they entered the bedroom, this pull between them would grow stronger. Was giving into it the road to compromise, or would she find herself even more vulnerable to him?

“What are your expectations for tonight?” she asked carefully.

He frowned. “You’re not a virgin, are you?”

Livia gave a little snort of laughter. “No, I didn’t save myself for marriage. You?”

He shook his head, and his laugh was warm and full. Then Gustav’s hand brushed against the small of her back again, spreading delicious heat through her as she walked through the door, into the cabin and down the spiral staircase. At the end of the hallway, the polished mahogany of their bedroom door and the brass handle shone in the evening light like a beacon guiding them home.

“After you,” he said, his voice, dark and intimate as he held open the door.

Gustav took up so much space in the cabin, and Livia felt like she couldn’t see anything else besides his broad shoulders and his long, lean body. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, exposing the well-sculpted forearms of a man forged in steel.

He rested an arm on the door above her and bent his head so his lips hung above hers, a delicious temptation. She arched toward him as if they were two poles of a magnet, coming together. All the laughter was gone from his eyes, and in its place was an intensity that felt almost wild. Livia’s heart kicked in her chest.

“Did you kiss him?” he demanded, his voice low and rough.

The question roiled through her, but she tilted up her chin defiantly and said nothing.

Gently, so gently, he took her hand and lifted it to his face. He guided her fingers in a line down his neck, and she felt his hammering pulse against her skin. He closed his eyes, but when he opened them again, they were filled with accusation. “Did you touch him?”

Her heart hammered in her chest as the question scraped at something raw inside that felt too much like guilt. He was punishing her for her connection to Edvin, and though she refused to feel guilty for protecting Adele, she felt the depth of his hurt in his voice. And it hurt her, too. This was the price of intimacy, and right now, it felt too high. He still had the power to devastate her, she realized with a start. And still she ached for him.

“What did he make you feel?”

The words reached in and found the most vulnerable place inside her. The place where she kept this want welled up inside her. And she found that she simply couldn’t hold up that wall any longer.