Page 4 of Modern Romance January 2025 5-8
He curled his toes now as the vibrations travelled up through his ankles, calves and thighs. Quivered through his midsection and into his chest, where it danced with his heartbeat, searching for an elusive rhythm. Attempting to ground him.
It wasn’t enough. No matterwhathe tried, it was never enough.
He always remained in arrhythmia. Out of sync.Abnormal.
Those weeks in that South American jungle had changed him forever. He’d long accepted that. The only problem was while his brain coped during daylight hours, functioning echelons above most ordinary men, the nightsalwaysgot to him.
The demons always came within a hairsbreadth of winning.
Elbows propped on knees, he absorbed the deeper vibrations as he bunched his fists, squeezing satisfaction and joy out of that minuscule hairsbreadth. As long as he kept winning, he was content, he told himself.
Because he had work to do, a way to go in this journey of exacting the sweetest of retribution. Until he was done, he would hang on.
And then...what?
He snarled under his breath, the taunting whisper firing up his fury.
And then...he would live the life he’d been destined to live before traitors had thrown vicious roadblocks in his way. Revenge wasn’t a destination but a pit stop on the road to his greater self, he assured himself. And while the former may consume him for now, the latter would honour his father’s memory.
Hissolereason for all this.
Promise reaffirmed, Jario rose, glad he slept naked because it shortened the time needed to throw on the joggers and leave his suite.
Five minutes later he pushed open the door to the extensive gym and entertainment area that took up most of the lower deck. He bypassed the compact basketball court, virtual golf and bowling alley, and stepped into the enclosed area of his favourite stress reliever. Sucking in a breath, he wrapped his fingers around the hilt of the first axe and lifted it.
Reassuringly heavy, the black steel with the deadly blood-red blade glinted in the low lights.
Jario ran his finger along the side of the blade, a roar filling his ears. Three steps brought him to the centre of the mat, the ten-foot-high slab of wood twenty feet away. First, he tightened his grip on the wooden hilt, then deliberately slackened it.
With a bloodthirsty snarl dragged from his soul, Jario hurled the axe, watched it arc through the air before embedding itself with a satisfyingthunkinto the thick wood. He revelled in the slight burn in his arms and shoulders, the hum still vibrating through him as he approached the slab and yanked the axe free.
All sense of time and space faded as he threw axe after axe, sweat slicking his hair and skin, dripping into his waistband. He ignored the forming blisters, the sweat stinging his eyes, the weariness sapping at his muscles.
All he cared about was that the voices had stopped, the demons conceding this fight. He knew they would return in full force tomorrow night. And the night after.
For tonight, he’d won.
Arms raised for the next throw, a triumphant grin curved his lips, only to freeze at the shocked gasp behind him.
Whipping his head around, he was confronted with a pair of wide eyes, housed in the body of a tall, statuesque woman wearing a sleep shirt and shorts that ended midthigh and left the remaining mile-long legs on display. The shirt was buttoned up primly but still gave a punchy hint at the luscious breasts it covered. Low lights and protective netting made it difficult to ascertain the true colour of her hair, but the long tresses almost touched her waist, sparking a curious need to sink his fingers into them.
She wasn’t one of his guests.
He’d dispatched them all back in Cabo yesterday. After a week of endless business meetings couched as entertainment with distant acquaintances and hangers-on, he’d been more than ready for solitude.
Which meant she was crew. Which also meant she knew better than to disturb him.
Infierno, he didn’t have a stowaway, did he? Annoyedandacutely aware that she was damned stunning—breathtaking, in fact—he faced her fully.
Watched her eyes widen as her gaze dropped to his perspiring chest and torso. Her breaths quickened as she lingered on the V at his waist, then over his joggers before her eyes flicked upward.
The keen stirring of his manhood once their eyes reconnected was a surprising detail. While he thoroughly enjoyed sex and was enthusiastic in his liaisons, Jario hadn’t reacted this strongly to a woman in a long time. He suspected it had something to do with the diminished thrill of the chase but he hadn’t even bothered to test that theory. Why would he, when every woman he desired happily presented herself on a platter at the merest flicker of interest?
Her eyes lowered, veiling her expression, and he stifled a growl of disappointment. He only growled at his demons and his enemies. Never a beautiful woman. Unless during sexual games.
But he undeniably wanted her complete focus on him, so he could absorb her every reaction. Which was absurd. Impatience bristling his skin, he exhaled.
‘Are you—’