Page 128 of Modern Romance September 2026 Books 1-4

He finished serving their meals, then strode across the room, to a glass-topped table that she belatedly realised had been set for dinner. Something about that—the placemats, cutlery, water glasses and candle, made her stomach drop to her toes. She watched as he set the plates down then lit the candle, the light flickering in harmony with the flames in the grate.

‘Enrique makes sure my kitchen is equipped when I travel.’

‘Your driver?’

‘He’s more my assistant.’

‘Does he manage your diary?’ she asked, teasing, because the man who’d driven her from the palace was big and burly. It was difficult to imagine him in front of a glowing computer screen.

‘He would if I needed him to.’ Javier grinned, holding out a chair for Astrid. She crossed the room, but the closer she got to Javier, the less steady her knees felt. When she reached the chair and slid into it, his hands glanced across her shoulders and her body temperature spiked. ‘Enrique is personal security, chauffeur, jack of all trades.’

‘Personal shopper,’ she added.

‘Anything I need.’

‘You rely on him.’

‘I don’t rely on anyone,’ he corrected, so quickly she knew it was a sore point. ‘But he makes my life run more smoothly.’

She tilted her head to the side, contemplating that. ‘You don’t want to rely on him.’

His eyes held hers for a long time, glittering with the strength of his will. It was a will she understood. ‘I prefer to know I am, and have, everything I need. A fully-stocked kitchen is nice, but I could survive without it.’

She made a noise of agreement.

‘I suspect you are similarly siloed, in your world, Your Majesty.’

She’d never thought of it like that, but she supposed in many ways she was a silo. A totem pole or monument to the expectations of others, solitary but not independent. Not like Javier. When he spoke of his life, she got a sense of his freedom, his ability to be wherever and whomever he wanted.

‘Why do you say that?’ she prevaricated, rather than admit how accurate his observation was.

His mocking smile though showed he understood. ‘You are lonely.’

‘I’m alone, that’s not the same thing.’

He nodded once. ‘Quite true. You like being alone?’

She opened her mouth to agree but out of nowhere, that memory of cooking with her mother came back to her, only this time, she remembered her brother and father behind them, at the kitchen counter, playing chess. They’d all been obsessed with the game and took turns trying to beat the queen, who was the far superior player. Astrid’s mother never went easy on any of them. You’ll never learn if you don’t try your hardest.

Astrid hadn’t played since the accident.

But she hadn’t been lonely then. She’d been surrounded by family and love, happiness and hearth. Her eyes stung and she blinked quickly.

‘It’s my life,’ she said, then glanced around the beautiful art-gallery-esque room quickly. ‘How come there’s no Christmas tree, Javier?’ Would she ever get over how delicious his name felt in her mouth?

‘I won’t be here for Christmas.’

‘But you’re here now.’

‘Not for long.’

‘You can’t wait to leave?’

‘I’m more tempted to stay than I was.’

Her heart tripped but she tamped down on it. She denied even the possibility of his staying, particularly because of what had happened between them. ‘Where will you spend Christmas?’

‘I haven’t thought about it.’