Page 49 of Modern Romance January 2025 5-8
She’d declined the crew’s half-hearted invitation to tour temples and rice paddies in Ubud. She wasn’t in the mood to field curious questions about her connection to Jario. And deep down, she’d been reluctant to leave Jario.
Now she suspected why he’d chosen to make his home on a floating vessel, albeit a breathtaking one, a greater weight of guilt wouldn’t let her go and explore Bali with a carefree spirit as if the man whose blood ran in her veins wasn’t the reason behind Jario’s suffering.
Returning to the bedside table, she checked her phone, although she was close enough to have heard a ring or text.
It was early evening back in California. Yet, her father hadn’t responded, and with every passing second, her pain-tinged anger grew, suspecting that like everything else in his life, he would ignore this, too.
Her mind kept replaying Jario’s ordeal on a loop. Being kidnapped was bad enough. To be left with such harrowing scars from what came after was soul shredding. Conversely, she recognised now where his implacable will had been born.
What hadn’t killed him had made him much,muchstronger. Unfortunately, that strength had also calcified a large portion of his heart. She refused to believe it was all of it.
Because you hope to find a chink soft enough to reach him?
Why not? Surely that wasn’t such a bad thing to—
Approaching footsteps paused her thoughts; Jario’s appearance a second later stilling them both in their tracks.
‘You’re still on board?’ Despite his faint surprise, his expression was shuttered.
She wished she could give a cool, offhand reason for remaining behind, but she couldn’t bring herself to be flippant. ‘I didn’t feel like going out.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘You think locking yourself up in your room instead of going out to explore with the others pleases me?’
‘I’m not trying to please you!’ She grimaced at her overheated response. ‘I just...didn’t feel right going out there to play tourist while...’
‘While what? While poor old Jario is stuck on his boat feeling sorry for himself?’
‘No! Don’t put words in my mouth. I told you how much I hate that.’
He exhaled and she fooled herself into thinking she saw a flash of contrition on his face before he cupped her chin. ‘Don’t waste your pity on me. It’s neither welcome nor will it be tolerated.’
‘It’s not pity. It’s empathy. There’s a difference.’
Predictably, his eyes narrowed. ‘Another useless emotion designed to make the donor feel better and leave the recipient barely altered. Find a better emotion. I dare you.’
Desire and irritation zipped through her, burning away the edges of desolation and, sweet heaven, she was tempted to clutch the distraction with both hands.
‘There we go,’ he murmured. ‘Much better.’
‘You don’t really want...you can’t expect...’
‘Why not? I recall you riding me like I was the last man on earth a few short hours ago. As performances go, it hit a few excellent spots I wouldn’t mind—’
She wrenched herself from his grasp. ‘That’s not what I’m offering.’
Disappointment filmed his eyes before he veiled it. ‘Too bad. What, then?’
Catching his restless tension, she cast around wildly, then settled on the familiar. ‘Stress relief of a different kind. Come with me.’
As invitations went, it was near flippant enough to trigger his further annoyance. But itwasan invitation couched in a challenge, one he couldn’t resist, especially if he craved a distraction from newly uncovered old wounds. And for her, doing something other than waiting for a call from her father that she suspected wasn’t coming felt imperative.
Delaying the inevitable much?
So what if she was? Who said she had to actively embrace heartbreak?
What about this new heartbreak you’re risking? This fling that isn’t quite as meaningless as you’re fooling yourself into—
‘I’m waiting with bated breath, Willow,’ he mock-growled.