Modern Romance March 2021 Book 5-8 by Carol Marinelli (most romantic novels .txt) 📕

He loved that she was so at ease in the water.

Her smile was coral magic. “Wonderfully, thank you.”

His mouth quirked up at those impeccable manners. Blue-blooded-ness really was her default, for all that she was a soldier.

“Are you hungry?”

“Trying to feed me yet again?” She quirked up an eyebrow.

“Can I help it if I was raised right?”

She smiled and for an instant he simply let himself appreciate the way the smile warmed him. He was driven, determined and unstoppable. It was easy to forget he was also a man. A man who wanted to hold his woman, for just a breath, before they got back to work.

“I’m not hungry, but I would like a walk on the beach,” she said.

“Then a-walking we will go. There are spare sandals where the slippers were.” He offered her his arm and she smiled at him, cheeks tinged with pink, and took it.

They walked together, arm in arm, while he marveled at the lightness between them. She was a royal guard, a consummate professional, and he was a retired admiral turned privateer specializing in hunting down traffickers, and together, they were in the business of revenge, and yet there was a lightness to being around Helene...as if alongside work, there could be play.

“Do I need sandals on a deserted island?” she asked, a light in her eyes.

He shook his head. “You have something against footwear?”

She laughed, stretching her arms wide. “I don’t like being hemmed in. I told you. It’s the barefoot-and-free-seafaring life for me now.”

He snorted. “More like the barefoot-with-babies life for you now. At least temporarily.”

Laughing, she said, “Well, not right away! I’ve got to get back to work eventually, and now that I’ve broken the seal, there’s so much to explore before babies...”

He stopped, still smiling. “There’s no rule that says we have to stop exploring when you’re pregnant. But we should begin right away if we want the best chances. The process of marriage and unifying titles is lengthy and should be begun immediately, as well. It’s hitting the ground running and a lot all at once, but in the long run, it’s just two to three years...”

Stopping beside him, Hel frowned, a sense of warning, like a frigid gust, blowing through the languorous tingles that had been pulsing in her body ever since the pool room. “I can’t get pregnant now,” she said. “It’s not the right time with my job.”

He smiled. “While we both know you’re far from decrepit, at your age, it’s best we don’t waste time.”

Hel snorted, “Calling me old now? Hardly. I’m in fantastic shape. And we certainly have options if that traditional way didn’t work out.” She blushed, her body still tender and alive with doing things the traditional way. “Kids and marriage will need to wait, if only temporarily,” she assured him with a grin, then added, “but in the meantime, we can keep practicing...”

But the flirty grin she expected didn’t flash across his face. Instead, his eyebrows came together, shadowing his eyes, bringing turbulence to his expression. “How long?” he asked, his voice rough and salty, older than she’d ever heard it.

Taking a step back, she wrapped her arms around herself. She was chilled, whereas before she’d felt loose and easy. “I don’t know. A year, maybe two? It’s not long to wait.”

“I could say the same to you and science would be on my side,” he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

A strange pressure filled her lungs, making her breath come thick and heavy.

“It’s just not a good time. There is the royal wedding, and my mother will expect a full wedding before we start announcing grandchildren.”

“We’ll elope,” he said, as if that made everything easy.

Hel’s head began to throb, the sensation of tightening, an ever-intensifying squeezing spreading throughout her whole body, familiar for all that she couldn’t place it.

“My mother will want a wedding.”

He scoffed. “It’s not your mother’s nuptials. What she wants is irrelevant.”

And then Hel knew. She knew where she’d felt this before. She knew why she had the urge to fight—to kick and scream and do exactly the opposite of what he wanted from her. His words were an echo of her father.

“I want a wedding. I want to wait until the timing is better before I have children. That means after the royal wedding, and after our wedding, and maybe even after a honeymoon,” Hel retorted, her hands coming to rest on her hips as her temperature kicked up with each word, despite the cool sea breezes. “You’ve asked me for my entire life, to abandon my own quest for justice, to have your children, and I have, in a matter of days, which is a remarkably quick turn of fashion, I’d say. I’m just asking you for a year, at most, two. I gave you my word.”

“In my experience, the word of a d’Tierrza isn’t worth a lot.”

She lifted an eyebrow, danger slipping into her voice. “I am not my father. You either trust me or you don’t.”

His eyes narrowed, equal ferocity coming to his expression. “I can’t say that I think much of your conviction, based on my personal experience. In fact, in my experience, you’ve only been able to hold out, for what was it you mentioned? A matter of days.”

The color drained from her face. “Excuse me?” she asked, her head cocked at a stiff angle, her body rigid with the pain each successive word launched.

She had been so mature. So reasonable about the whole thing. She had been flexible and open, willing to alter her course in the name of honor.

She made choices with her eyes open, knowing what and why he wanted. So why did his words feel like darts? Why did she feel such a deep aching in the center of her chest?

It couldn’t simply be sex, could it? Yes, he had been her first and she knew how easy it was to entangle sex with emotion, but they were both adults. She was