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

again she heard the denigration of his father’s waste of taxpayers’ money.

“I thought I wouldn’t see you until dinner.” She had been looking forward to reflecting, putting today’s events into some sort of order in her mind. Now she was back to a state of heightened awareness, watching his long strides make for a set of stairs off to the left. He loped down them and came toward her in an unhurried stride that ate up the ground easily.

“I don’t want any delay on your work.”

“Oh, um.” Her throat had gone dry, and she looked longingly back at her tea. “I was about to sit down and brainstorm ideas, but I’m having trouble understanding why you’d willingly give up all of this.” She waved at her small flat. His private quarters were likely ten times more luxurious and grand. Looking up, she suspected his was that second-level terrace that looked out to the sea unobstructed.

“Allow me to enlighten you.” He jerked his head at the pebbled path that wove through the columns around the pond, indicating they should walk it.

She started along and immediately came upon a soldier performing a lewd act with a nymph, one that made her cheeks sting with embarrassment. It grew worse when she darted a glance at Luca and discovered him watching her reaction.

Her heart lurched, but he didn’t seem to be enjoying her discomfiture. If anything, his grim expression darkened.

“Oh, those Romans,” she joked weakly.

“My father commissioned them. He could have used the funds in a thousand better ways. My first act once I was crowned was tax relief, but I couldn’t offer as much as was needed. Our economy is a mess.”

Their footsteps crunched as they wound between the columns and wisteria vines that formed a bower, filling the air with their potent fragrance.

The statues grew increasingly graphic. Luca seemed immune, but Amy was as titillated as she was mortified. She was mortified because she was titillated.

Even more embarrassing was a stray curiosity about whether Luca would have the strength to have freestanding sex like that, arms straining as his fingertips pressed into her bottom cheeks. His shoulders would feel like marble beneath her arms where she clasped them tightly around his neck, breasts mashed to his flexing chest as her legs gripped around his waist. They would hold each other so tightly, they would barely be able to move, but—

“Do you know why Vallia needs a queen, Amy?”

“No,” she squeaked, yanking her mind from fornication.

“Because the king of Vallia is this.” He nodded toward the statuary. “A sex addict who never sought help. In fact, he used his position to take advantage of those over whom he had power.”

The butterflies in her stomach turned to slithering snakes that crept up to constrict her lungs and tighten her throat.

Amy knew all about men who took advantage of their position of power. It was adding a razor edge of caution to every step as they walked among these erotic statues.

Luca was a client, which made her feel as though she had to defer to him, but he wasn’t forcing her into an awkward situation for his own amusement. She might be blushing so hard the soles of her feet hurt, but he was radiating furious disgust. He was trying to explain why he was so committed to her doing this odd job for him.

Not that kind of job, Amy! She dragged her gaze off the woman whose hands were braced on a naked gladiator’s sandals as he sat proudly feeding his erection to her.

“You’re not like him,” she managed to say. “Your father, I mean.”

“No, I’m not,” he agreed, jaw clenched. “But I have to make at least a few people believe I could be. Briefly.” He glanced from the narrow shadow of the trident on a stepping-stone to his watch.

She followed his gaze and said with delight, “It’s a sundial! Half-past oral sex and a quarter till—” She slapped her hand over her mouth, cheeks flaring so hotly, she thought she’d burn her palm. “I’m sorry.” She was. “I use humor to defuse tension, but I shouldn’t have said that. This is a professional relationship. I’ll do better, I promise.”

She was still stinging with a flush of embarrassment that boiled up from too many sources to count—the situation, the blatant thing she’d just said, the lack of propriety on her part and, deep down, a pang of anguish that she was giving him such a terrible impression of herself when she wished he would like her a little.

His mouth twisted. “You’ll have to say a lot worse than that to shock me. The Romans themselves couldn’t hold a candle to some of the obscene things my father did.”

He veered down a path to a small lookout that was mostly overgrown. A wooden bench faced a low, stone wall, but they had to stand at the wall to see the blue-green water beyond.

Compassion squeezed Amy’s insides as she sensed the frustration rolling off him.

“I’ve worked with a lot of people trying to keep scandals under wraps. It’s very stressful. I can only imagine the pressure you’ve been under since you took the throne.”

Luca made a noise that was the most blatantly cynical sound Amy had ever heard.

“For my whole life,” he corrected her grimly. “As long as I can remember I’ve been trying to hide it, fix it, compensate for it. I’ve had to be completely different from him despite looking exactly like him while training for his job. A position he made seem so vile, there is absolutely no desire in me to hold it.”

At his own words, he swore under his breath and ran a hand down his face.

“That sounds treasonous. Forget I said it,” he muttered.

“This is a safe space. It has to be.” Amy had long ago trained herself not to judge what people revealed when they were in crisis. “Are you still under pressure to hide his behavior? If there are things you’re worried could come out, I might