Page 224 of Modern Romance January 2025 5-8

‘Of course not.’

‘Did you want that?’ he asked. ‘Did you want me to call you and say,I’ll be here for one night. I can’t tell you why, but can I come over?’

‘No.’

She shook her head; she hadn’t thought of it like that. No, she didn’t want to be his on-call mistress.

‘So what? Now that I know you’re here, you thought you’d drop in?’

‘If you’d let me finish... I was trying to say I had no idea you’d be there today, but I was pleased you were.’

Her head was still spinning—not just from seeing him, but at the possibility that she might be pregnant, and also...

She looked at Dante and realised that there was another problem.

It would be hell to be pregnant by the playboy attorney...

But to love him...?

As if to deny her own want, she snapped, ‘What do you want, Dante?’

‘This.’

He kissed her then—a fervent and deep whisky-laced kiss that tasted delicious—and she was in his arms, kissing him back with passion. Hurling herself at the exit that was Dante, desperate for escape from her thoughts.

His hands were everywhere, and Susie truly wished they were at his house. There they could fall through the door and be completely alone...

But then she hauled herself back.

It was only a temporary escape.

She pulled her head back, peeled her body from his. ‘You’d better go.’

‘Susie...’ He took a breath and then released her. They stood apart for a moment, and Dante seemed to gather his thoughts.

‘Can we talk?’ he asked.

‘Talk?’ she scoffed.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Please.’

She was still reeling, though. She knew they would end up in bed, and that she’d be in love with him just a little bit more.

In love and possibly pregnant by a man who couldn’t commit to anything.

And so she’d give him a chance to talk.

One chance.

‘I spoke to my mother this morning...’ she told him.

He frowned. Clearly he had no idea what she was getting at.

‘The twins are moving house next weekend, so they’re not visiting me now till April.’

He frowned again.

‘It means I’ll be free on my birthday weekend. The weekend of the ball. You could come.’