Page 7 of Modern Romance September 2026 Books 5-8

Too bad it lasted all of twenty minutes before my brute of a bodyguard had to ruin my taste of freedom. And now he’s taking me back. I still have the herbal supplements Claude gave me that are supposed to help me sleep. But the thought of lying down again, of trying to achieve some sense of calm as the dark presses in, sends a cool shiver whispering over my skin.

“What’s wrong?”

I ignore the flare of heat as his gravelly voice rolls across my skin and keep my gaze trained on the passing buildings. “Just looking.”

“I told you not to lie to me, Princess.”

I grit my teeth. Princesses, especially ones who are set to inherit the throne, are not supposed to display negative emotions. But right now, I’d love nothing more than to roll my eyes or stick out my tongue. No one knows about the nightmares, the panic attacks. I’ve already had so much of my life yanked out into public view. I’m allowed one or two secrets.

“I’m permitted to have my own thoughts, Mr. Hawke.”

Silence falls between us. The music playing through the gondola’s speakers shifts from a lighthearted tune to a nostalgic melody.

“You handled yourself well with Maryanne.”

Warmth blooms in my chest. I hate what happened to her, especially after I overhead part of Maryanne’s boyfriend’s hushed confession to Dominic. But it was so nice getting to use my training, to be more than a ceremonial ornament or a photo prop. “Thank you. I noticed you have a soft side, Mr. Hawke.”

He chuckles. Deep and husky. I think it’s the first time I’ve heard him genuinely laugh. The sound chases away the cold and sinks low into my body. “Not an adjective most would use to describe me.”

“I saw it, though. With Maryanne and her boyfriend,” I add as he arches a brow. “I overhead you helping him get another shot at proposing. Is there a secret romantic beneath that tough exterior?”

“Not in the slightest. I’m not a marriage kind of guy. Or relationships.”

“Just dating as many beautiful women as possible?”

One corner of his mouth tilts up. “Is that a crime?”

“Just an observation that, at least based on photos I’ve seen, you don’t mind female company.”

“Have you been researching me, Princess?”

I lift my nose in the air even as I try to quell the twin feelings of guilt over being caught and irrational jealousy of the half dozen women I saw pictured with him. “Due diligence given how much time we’re spending together.”

“Fair. Yes, I date. Casually. But,” he adds with a shrug, “if relationships work for other people, then let them be happy. Maryanne’s boyfriend obviously felt bad. Didn’t make sense to make him feel worse.”

I resist any further teasing. But I know what I saw and overheard. It’s unsettling. I’m not used to kindness, haven’t been since my grandparents passed. The only people I’d consider myself close to are some of the palace staff and the doctors and nurses at the hospital I volunteer at. I’m grateful for those interactions, but they are the exception, not the rule in my life.

Of all the people in my life, Dominic Hawke is the last one I would have thought of as kind. The reality of it stirs the heat lingering after that quiet, dark chuckle.

We pass under another bridge. A couple is standing in the middle, the woman leaning into the man’s chest as he kisses her forehead.

Envy twists inside my chest. I might have a chance at finding a partner I can love and be loved by. But I also know the chances are not in my favor. Not only will my future prince consort be under a microscope from the palace and the public, but I’ll have to consider factors the average woman wouldn’t.

There’s also the factor of whether or not a man wants to even take on that role. There will be men who want more power, more money. Men who want the title and don’t care who they have to marry to get it. But there will also be men, good men, who don’t want the scrutiny, the demands.

Louis’s face pops into my mind. My first and only boyfriend and lover. His father is a wealthy financier, one who provided funding for my father’s numerous projects. When my father hosted Monsieur Bernard, Louis would often accompany him to the palace. We got to know each other over the years, from playing in the gardens to sitting down to tea with my brother. But it wasn’t until my first summer back from Oxford that he asked me out on a date.

We never had a passionate love like I read about in the novels I have my aide, Marilyn, order for me. But I cared for him, and he cared for me. I liked spending time with him, enjoyed the quiet moments we stole away from the public eye, loved being able to let my guard down and share my thoughts, even if Louis wasn’t always sure how to respond. At least he listened, made me feel like a woman and not just a princess. He knew me long before we became romantic. He was simple, safe.

I breathe in, try and fail to stop the pain wrapping around my heart. Once my role changed, the crown came between us. Louis didn’t care enough to put up with the media attention. I don’t blame him. Who wants to live their life in a house made entirely of glass and open for the world to see?

But I had hoped things might be different, that there would be at least one constant in my life amid the chaos that took over when I became heiress to the throne.

“You studied nursing.”

Surprised, I look up at Dominic. “I became certified as a nursing assistant, yes, before I went to university.”

“And an EMT.”