Page 2 of Modern Romance September 2026 Books 1-4

Axel blinked, coming out of his little introspective moment. He scowled. He didn’t do introspection. He blamed Michalis for mentioning his brother, but now his friend was gesturing towards the door, where Axel’s assistant was standing. He hadn’t even heard her knocking.

‘The jet is ready and waiting at the airfield.’

Axel’s brain switched out of the weird momentary lapse in his usual focus and he snapped into action, rattling off a list of things he needed Michalis to attend to, while pulling on his jacket and picking up his mobile phone.

He was almost at the door when Michalis said, ‘And what about the fiancée issue?’

Axel stopped and looked back, grim. ‘I’ll deal with it.’

And he would, because he had no doubt he would succeed. He was Axel Drakos. He didn’t fail, in anything. Some called it arrogance—he couldn’t care less. It was fact.

* * *

Hope Smith pulled at the tight pencil skirt again. She was nervous, palms sweaty. It was her first day at her new job as a flight attendant on a private jet owned by some big-shot Greek billionaire dude.

She imagined him to be old and maybe overweight from the spoils of his riches. Balding.

‘Here he comes. Don’t make eye contact. Drakos works on his flights—he doesn’t like to be disturbed unless it’s an emergency. And do not speak to him unless he speaks to you, which is unlikely.’

Hope looked at her boss, the senior flight attendant, George. She added and obnoxious too to her list and said sunnily, ‘Don’t worry, I won’t go near the guy unless expressly instructed by you.’

George said approvingly, ‘That’s exactly the attitude.’

She snuck a look around him to see out of the open door of the aircraft. She saw the heat haze of a hot Athens day and a sleek shining SUV with tinted windows appearing out of the haze arriving at the steps of the even more sleek private jet.

Hope couldn’t help but feel a frisson of anticipation. After all, this was a long way from the flight-attendant work she was used to on crowded budget airlines to holiday destinations. Mind you, she had become pretty proficient at inebriated crowd control.

It didn’t sound as though there’d be much inebriation going on here.

She’d only got this job because one of her friends who’d graduated from the commercial airline world to the private realm had recommended her personally. And she hated to admit it but she was sort of missing the hustle and bustle of a full flight and having several colleagues to interact with on board.

And then she castigated herself for being so ungrateful. She needed this job and the welcome increase in wages to save up to buy a house. The dream of her life. To have her own home. A rooted existence. And a family. The things she’d never had, because she’d been abandoned on the steps of a hospital as a tiny newborn baby. A foundling.

‘Straighten up.’

Hope resisted the urge to do a salute and stood to attention just to the side and slightly behind George. She heard a car door close and feet on the steps up to the plane. Why did she always have an urge to giggle when she was meant to be serious? She pursed her lips and stared into the middle distance.

The first thing she noticed was the scent. It was warm and spicy and also earthy, with a hint of some kind of exotic heady flower. And then the light in the cabin dimmed because it was being blocked out.

He must be tall. Hope really, really wanted to look but she daredn’t after George’s warning not to make eye contact. After a lifetime of feeling as though she were on the edges of everyone else’s worlds, it was almost second nature to just fade into the background.

‘Good morning, George, how are you?’

His voice was deep and lightly accented and it rumbled right into Hope’s solar plexus, the weirdest sensation. He also sounded relatively young. Not old.

George answered, ‘Very well, sir. We have all the international papers on board and fresh coffee and we’re ready to go.’

‘Thank you.’

He was moving past them now, into the main cabin, and then suddenly he stopped again just in front of Hope. Her eyeline was on his tie. It was a deep rich royal blue. He was wearing a waistcoat. He was really tall.

‘We have a new attendant?’

George sounded nervous all of a sudden. ‘Yes, sir, Sara went on maternity leave so we had to replace her.’

‘Ah, yes, I remember now.’

Suddenly Hope saw a hand in between them, emerging from a pristine white cuff under his jacket. She caught a glimpse of gold cufflinks. His hand was big and masculine. Long fingers, short blunt nails. Not soft from doing no work.