Modern Romance October 2019 Books 5-8. Annie West

also a pragmatic marriage.’

      Hannah’s eyes widened at his description. ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘You agreed to marry a man simply because it made sense, because you thought you loved each other, without having any idea if you were physically compatible. So this marriage—ours—already has more going for it.’

      Hearing him refer to their marriage caused her heart to trip a little, banging against her sternum. ‘How do you figure? Angus was one of my closest friends…’

      ‘Which means very little given that he betrayed your trust and slept around behind your back.’

      ‘Woah. Don’t go easy on me, will you?’

      ‘I don’t think you want anyone to go easy on you, Hannah May.’

      She startled a little at his unexpected perceptiveness. ‘It was less than six months ago. It’s still kind of raw.’

      His expression barely shifted yet she had the feeling he was saving that little revelation, storing it away. ‘He cheated on you. He doesn’t deserve a second thought.’

      She nodded, having said as much to herself.

      ‘Is he still with her?’

      Hannah reached for her water, sipping it, trying to tamp down on that little bundle of pain. ‘No. Not according to my aunt.’

      Leonidas nodded sharply, as if filing away that information. ‘There is no love between you and me, Hannah, but there is desire enough to burn us alive if we are not careful. And there is a baby—which we both want to protect and cherish.’

      ‘Yes. I do.’

      ‘Neither of us wanted this, but we can make our marriage a success.’ He said it with such fierce determination she almost laughed, as though she were simply a property he wanted to acquire, a piece of real estate he needed to buy.

      Her own questions zipped through her. She sipped her water, balling her courage. ‘Your wife and son…when did they…?’

      His eyes were coal-like in his autocratic face. ‘Almost five years ago.’

      ‘I’m so sorry.’ She spoke gently, softly. ‘You said they were murdered?’

      His eyes narrowed and his skin paled almost imperceptibly. ‘Yes.’

      ‘By whom?’

      He held a hand up, silencing her with the gesture. ‘I have no intention of discussing it, Hannah. My first marriage is off limits.’

      The words smarted and she couldn’t resist pointing out his hypocrisy. ‘But you were just asking me about my fiancé.’

      ‘You were happy to talk about it.’

      Hannah’s brow furrowed. ‘No, I wasn’t. I answered your questions because we’re getting married.’ How strange those words felt in her mouth. ‘And if you’re going to be my husband, it seems like the kind of thing you have a right to know about.’

      He tilted his head in concession but his gaze was steady. ‘I will not discuss Amy and Brax.’

      Hannah expelled an angry rush of breath. ‘Well, that seems kind of dumb.’

      He clearly hadn’t been expecting that response. ‘Oh, really?’ There was danger in the silky drawl.

      ‘Yeah, really.’ The flight attendant returned, brandishing a platter loaded with Italian delicacies. Cheeses, ham, fruit, vegetable sticks and dips, breads, olive oil and vinegar. The aroma hit her in the gut and she realised she was actually starving.

      But other feelings still took precedence. When they were alone again, she continued, ‘You were married and had a son, and you lost them. You lost your family.’

      Her voice caught because she knew more than enough about how that felt—to be safe in the bosom and security of your loved ones one day, then to be adrift at sea, cast out, alone, bereft, with none of the usual place markers to help you find your bearings.

      ‘Thank you for the neat recitation of this fact.’

      Her nostrils flared. ‘I only mean that’s a huge part of you. Don’t you think our child will want to learn about her half-brother one day? That’s a part of her life.’

      Despite the fact his expression remained the same, his breath grew louder, and she would have sworn she saw panic cross his eyes.

      ‘No.’ He said the word like a curse, harsh and compelling.

      Hannah sat perfectly still.

      ‘She will never know about Brax. Never.’

      Hannah’s heart thumped hard in her chest.

      ‘I will not speak of them. Not to you, not to her, not to anyone.’

      She truly didn’t think he meant it as an insult—he was caught on the back foot and the sheer strength of his emotions made him speak without thinking. But the vitriol in the statement sliced through her, filling her organs with acid.

      ‘You’re seeing this marriage, and our daughter, as an abstract concept,’ she said gently, even when her heart was hurting. ‘You’re thinking of her as a baby only. What about when she’s ten? Fifteen? Twenty? When you and she are friends as well as family, when she’s sitting here where I am, on a plane, opposite you, and she’s asking her father about his life. Do you really think you can keep such a huge part of yourself shielded from her? And me, for that matter?’

      He drank his coffee, before piercing her with his jet-black eyes. ‘Yes.’

      ‘You’re being incredibly obtuse and naïve.’ But the words lacked zing. They were said with sympathy. No one knew more about the toll grief took when it was kept locked deep inside a person.

      ‘I am sorry you think so.’ He pushed his untouched plate aside and pulled a newspaper from the armrest. He flicked it up, pointedly blanking her.

      It was galling, and only the fact that his stance was obviously driven by a deep, painful sadness kept her silent.

      He didn’t want to talk about his family. Yet.

      They barely knew each other, despite this bizarre agreement they’d entered into. They would marry—in a week—and the very idea stirred her pulse to life. But despite the marriage, they’d spent only a few hours in one another’s company. They were virtually strangers. Of course he didn’t want to crack his heart open and lay everything out before her.

      He was guarding his privacy, as befitted the newness of all this. Over time, as they grew to know one another, he was bound to change, to open up to her more.

      She lifted a strawberry, popping it in her mouth, tasting the sweetness, relishing its freshness. She wanted him to trust her, and she had to show him how. To keep opening up to him, even when it felt counterintuitive, even when the past had shown her to be more guarded with herself, to protect her feelings.

      ‘I felt undesirable,’ Hannah murmured, reaching for another strawberry.

      Leonidas pushed the top of the paper down, so his eyes could meet hers. There was a trace of coldness there, from their earlier conversation. She pushed on regardless.

      ‘With Angus. I didn’t really feel anything for him, physically, and he suggested we wait until we were married, so I agreed. I heard about couples not being able to keep their hands off each other and, honestly, I thought there was something wrong with me.’

      She bit down on her lower lip thoughtfully. ‘I presumed I just wasn’t really sexual. I thought he wasn’t, either. Then I saw him in bed with someone else, and I found out they’d been sleeping together for over a month, and the penny dropped. He was sexual. He liked sex. He just didn’t want me.’

      Leonidas placed the paper on his knees, his steady gaze trained on her face.

      ‘I