Modern Romance January 2025 #1-4

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER ONE

T HE G REEK TECH tycoon Nic Diamandis was deep in thought as he steered the SUV through what was increasingly looking like a blizzard. En route to his Yorkshire hideaway, he was only vaguely grateful that he was close to his destination. He was preoccupied with the infinitely more distressing family revelations that had been contained in the personal letter the executor had given him after his father’s death.

Revelations that had plunged him into a devil’s quandary.

In short, his father, Argus, had had an affair with his mother’s closest friend, Rhea, and the young woman who was Nic’s closest friend was actually his half-sister.

Six months ago, that truth might not have tasted quite so toxic. Indeed, Nic could have happily embraced it because he had always been fond of Angeliki Bouras, his childhood playmate, his adolescent wing woman. But then something had changed...for her , at least, if not for him. A month ago, Angeliki had got into his bed when he was half asleep and had made a pass at him. Awakening, he had rejected her in shock at her approach. And... Well, it had pretty much wrecked their friendship because he had not seen her since, and she wouldn’t take his calls.

Telling Angeliki now that he was her brother would obviously only increase the fallout from that damaging incident. As for his mother? How could he possibly tell her such news when she was still so close and reliant on Angeliki’s mother for emotional support? Hadn’t Bianca Diamandis already suffered enough throughout her marriage to a monster? Nic’s father, Argus, deserved no other label. He had repeatedly cheated on Nic’s mother and humiliated her. He had also lied and conned his way through the business world, destroying those he disliked, bribing others, blackmailing the vulnerable. Argus had never been a father a son could respect and aspire to copy. He had been an abusive bully, securing his status through fear and intimidation. And Nic had always loathed him.

In fact, the only person likely to receive the news that Angeliki was a secret Diamandis without regret or prejudice was Nic’s half-brother, Jace. Why? Argus had rejected Jace when his first marriage crashed and burned and Jace had been raised by his uncle instead. Jace had been the lucky son who got away and Nic could only envy his older brother for his escape from his own hellish childhood. That past was something he preferred not to think about, but his father’s recent death had brought all that emotional stuff he abhorred to the surface again, unsettling him.

Nic slowed his speed as the falling snow grew ever more impenetrable and then sudden movement to the left seized his attention and he watched a tiny vehicle surge across his path and plunge into the field on the other side of the road. He blinked for a split second, fully aware now that he had just seen an accident, and was about to use his phone before common sense forced him to slow his pace and draw the SUV to a careful halt and climb out. After all, he was here on the spot and could possibly even save a life long before any emergency rescue could be enacted. He climbed out, a black-haired, six-foot-four-inch-tall wall of a man, warmly clad for the weather in sturdy boots and an overcoat. He walked back a few yards before spotting the car down the hill, lying on its side in the snow.

Clambering down the steep embankment, he cut across the straggling hedge and made it to the vehicle. It was resting on the driver’s side. He opened the hatch at the back, very relieved that it wasn’t locked. He yanked out the pink suitcase in his way and heard a woman’s gasping sob.

‘You’re going to be all right. I’m planning to get you free. Are you hurt?’ he asked, for it might not be safe for him to try and move her.

He heard her suck in air as though she was trying to get a grip on herself. ‘Just bruised and shocked... I think. The car wouldn’t stop. It just kept on going on down the hill and then it speeded up—’

‘Doesn’t matter. Do you want me to try and get you out? Or do you want me to call the emergency services and wait for them?’ Nic asked.

‘Oh, no, please just get me out, if you can,’ she begged.

‘Can you release your seat belt?’

‘No, it’s too far above me. I can’t reach it,’ she framed shakily.

‘Stay calm. We’ll get you out.’ Nic swore, shedding his heavy coat as he tried to lever himself into what was surely the smallest car in existence. It was basically a city runabout and totally unsuited to the challenge of snowy and steep country roads.

‘Without any jokes about women drivers,’ she warned him.

And quite unexpectedly, Nic laughed, appreciating her snarky humour at such a moment. After all, he could tell that she was frightened by her shaky voice but she wasn’t giving into the fear, she was fighting it.

‘My name is Nic,’ he told her. ‘What’s yours?’

‘Lexy,’ she mumbled as he stretched up to depress the seat-belt button and it released and she slumped fully against the door below her.

For the first time he saw the driver and no longer wondered why he had had no view of her even from the rear of the car, because she was absolutely tiny, almost child-sized and, on a positive note, she ought to be light enough for him to lift and extract. ‘Grab my hand,’ he urged, reaching down as close as he could get to her.

‘Can I grab my handbag?’

‘No.’

‘But I can’t do anything without my handbag!’ she wailed in dismay.

‘Right now, we’re concentrating on getting you out.’

Lexy grabbed the big masculine hand and gasped as he literally hauled her up.

‘Grip my shoulder,’ he told her, and she complied as he raised her up and she had a blurred vision of bronzed skin, black hair and very dark eyes.

With the muted venting of what sounded like a foreign curse word, he began to manoeuvre the two of them backwards out of the car.

‘I can manage now.’

‘You told me you weren’t hurt and you are,’ her rescuer complained, still carefully tugging her onward, his stubborn stubbled jawline prominent. ‘There’s blood on your face!’

‘I think I scraped something when the car went airborne or when the airbags exploded,’ she framed unevenly as she was lifted out and set on her feet. Her stiletto heels sank deep into the snow and she shivered, suddenly acutely aware of the thin shirt and smart tailored skirt she wore, garments quite useless in such weather. ‘I was trying to get to the airport.’ She checked her watch and winced. ‘Too late now,’ she said.

‘At least you’re alive and relatively unscathed,’ Nic remarked as he grabbed his coat up and draped it round her shoulders to keep her warm. ‘Do you really need that bag?’

She was like a miniature oil painting, Nic was thinking, even with the streak of blood from the small scrape on her cheek. She had tousled silky golden hair spilling round her shoulders, delicate little features and a mouth as naturally pink and luscious as a peach. Wide bluey green eyes. Beautiful, just a bit too much on the small side in every direction, he reasoned. Totally not his type. He had never gone for blondes. His mother was blonde. Angeliki was blonde. He reminded himself that neither was a natural blonde while wondering why he had to go to such lengths to avoid admitting that a woman attracted him even if she was standing bedraggled and in shock in heavy snow. Was it because she was an accident victim?

Lexy grimaced and groaned. ‘No. I can’t ask you to go back in there.’

But Nic wasn’t listening. He was already halfway back in and he was so tall that with only a little manoeuvring he was able to vault back out again holding the large purple workbag that held her phone, her wallet, her tablet and a hundred other items she didn’t think she could live without, even temporarily.

‘Thank you so much,’ she told him sincerely. ‘I have to ring the hire company and tell them I’ve had an accident.’

‘Where are you planning to go now, since the airport is out of reach? It’s too far on roads this bad.’

In the back of her mind, the vague hope that he might have been able to drop her at the airport died. ‘I’ve got nowhere to go,’ she said, in consternation at that fact. ‘And I don’t know the area. I was at a business conference at a country-house hotel, but that’s miles and miles behind me now.’

‘There’s no accommodation within easy reach around here. It’s rather remote.’ Nic reached for her case with a frown because he knew he had no choice but to take her back to his place, for the night at least. ‘You can stay with me tonight and we’ll see about moving you elsewhere tomorrow.’

‘With you...er, I don’t know you.’

‘Or ring the police or a friend, see if they’re able to help you,’ Nic continued with innate practicality and the simple desire to be gone. ‘I’m afraid I can’t hang around in this weather in case I can’t make it to my place either.’

‘I can understand that,’ Lexy conceded, in a real tizz of indecision.

The guy had stopped in a blizzard at the scene of an accident and had taken the risk of getting her out of the car she was trapped in. Ostensibly, he was a decent man. Couldn’t she take a risk on him? My goodness, was she turning into her excessively anxious and suspicious mother? Seeing threat behind the most innocent facades? For the first time she looked up at him. He was so tall, so broad and...so incredibly good-looking that all of a sudden she couldn’t believe he could be a perv. Nobody that handsome needed to be, she thought foolishly, before getting embarrassed by that utterly stupid thought.

She dug shakily into her bag to extract her phone. ‘I’ll stay with you but, if you don’t mind, I’ll take a photo of you and your car registration and send it to my friend.’

Nic rolled his eyes and grinned. ‘Whatever.’

She snapped a photo as he grabbed her case in one hand and began to stride back over the rough ground. Lexy followed at as close to a run as she could manage in her high heels, her feet already frozen blocks of ice. He paused on the other side of the hedge and stepped back to bodily lift her over it. Her shoes had no purchase on the slippery embankment, and he had to haul her up that as well, his coat trailing on the ground. Her cheeks were burning with mortification at her own lack of physical stamina as he urged her down the road and she saw a large black SUV parked.

‘Registration photo,’ he reminded her gently when the only thing on her mind was getting into his car and out of the cold.

Lexy laughed at that soothing encouragement for her to document him for her own safety. ‘Right.’ Chilled hands clumsy, she snapped the registration plate and, climbing into the passenger seat, she began to remove his coat until he told her to keep it on for warmth. She texted her friend and flatmate, Mel, with brief facts and attached the photos before heaving a sigh because suddenly she felt ridiculously sleepy.

‘I’m so tired,’ she framed.

‘You’re coming off an adrenalin high after the accident.

‘My house is up here,’ Nic intoned only a few miles further down the road, turning the car into a lane surrounded by what appeared to be a small forest. ‘I like my privacy. I planted the trees before the foundations were dug.’

‘You built your own house?’ she asked in some surprise, because he had a smooth, polished edge that made it difficult for her to picture him doing anything that hands-on physical.

His facial muscles tensed. He hadn’t meant he had actually planted the trees himself, but he didn’t contradict her because an overnight unexpected guest did not require his life story.

Lexy’s mouth ran dry in surprise as the driveway opened up to reveal a sizeable modern house that seemed to be mostly glass and wood. It was very elegant and clearly architect-designed. Her host, it seemed, lived at a much higher level than she did. Just as quickly her requiring shelter for the night seemed an even worse imposition.

‘I’m really sorry that I’m putting you out like this,’ she said awkwardly as she slid out of the car, head bowing in the wind blowing heavy snow at her.

‘It’s not a problem,’ he assured her wryly. ‘It’s a spacious property.’

On the doorstep she turned aside as he disarmed some security alarm before he ushered her indoors to glorious heat. ‘Take the shoes off. Your feet must be wet,’ he urged her.

‘And they hurt. Definitely not shoes made for walking in,’ she quipped, bending down to remove the shoes and set them neatly by the wall before straightening again to take in her surroundings.

Wow, she thought at first glimpse of the metal sculpted starburst lights hanging far above, the sort of signature piece that only a designer created. Double wow, she thought as she noted a sleek bronze sculpture and the stone and metal staircase leading off the big limestone-tiled entrance hall. Triple wow, she thought, feeling the warmth of underfloor heating unfreeze the soles of her feet.

Thee mou , she literally shrank when she took off the heels. Nic stared down at her and realised that she reminded him of a fairy ornament on a Christmas tree. Light, airy, insubstantial in some ethereal way. It made her incredibly feminine. Registering that he was staring, relieved that she hadn’t noticed his absorption in her, he looked away, wondering just why he found her so fascinating.

‘I’ll stow your case in the guest room. It’s second left down the corridor,’ he advised, tugging open a door into a reception room. ‘I suggest you go into the drawing room and warm up by the fire. The cloakroom’s across the hall.’

Only rich people had drawing rooms, Lexy reflected uneasily as she tactfully took his advice, rather than follow him around like a tracker. Barefoot, she hurried over to the blaze in the log burner and defrosted in front of it before removing his coat and padding back out to the hall to enter the cloakroom and hang it up. Nothing else hung there and she assumed he lived alone. She freshened up at the sink, critically studying her wan, anxious expression in the mirror, dabbing away the streak of blood to note the tiny cut below her cheekbone. She had been lucky, really, really lucky, not to suffer a more serious injury, she reminded herself as she drove a brush through her long snarled-up hair and winced, reckoning that she had a bump at the side of her head.

Tugging out her phone, she made the necessary calls, one to the car-hire firm to report the accident and the location of the car and the second to her boss, Eileen, who ran the interpreter/translator company where she worked, to explain that she was currently marooned in the snow. There was a text from her friend, Julia, reminding her of her pick-up time in thirty-six hours for her lift down to Cornwall with Julia’s mother. She winced, afraid she wouldn’t make it back to London in time because of the weather. But she decided not to warn Julia of her current predicament and stress her out. A godmother had to turn up at a christening, after all, when it was such an honour to be chosen. Even so, Lexy was still surprised by her own selection for the role as she had only seen Julia once since university, after her friend had dropped out, married and moved to the country.

Warning her boss had been automatic even though her absence was unlikely to affect business, Lexy reflected wryly, as she received less work than some of her colleagues. The languages she specialised in, Korean and French, were not in as high demand as the likes of Spanish or Chinese would have been. Of course, it wasn’t as though she had had much choice about the languages she had acquired through her own background, she conceded wryly.

Lexy had grown up in South Korea, where her banker father worked, and her French-speaking mother had provided her with her second language. Her decision to study languages had been purely practical. After her parents’ contentious divorce and her mother’s subsequent breakdown following their return to the UK, finding stable employment as soon as possible had been her sole motivation. She had studied for her language degree while working in an unofficial capacity whenever Eileen requested her services at the same time as working numerous jobs in the catering trade to make ends meet.

And at the end of the day, where had sacrificing her own choices got her? That unwelcome thought slunk in no matter how hard she tried to stifle it. Her mother had passed away in any case, unable to appreciate her daughter’s efforts to sustain her, exhausted by the agonies of living without domestic staff and without a man to tell her what to do. Admittedly, Agathe Taylor had been a fragile personality. The most daring thing she had ever done had been to marry a much older man against her parents’ wishes.

Lexy had never met her late mother’s French family but had since learned that they too were dead. Her mother’s sense of failure after the divorce had been strong enough to ensure that Agathe had not wished to get back in touch with her relatives. As for her father’s family, they were now fully engaged with his much younger second wife and the son he had long craved. A son as opposed to a daughter, Lexy, whom he had never wanted. And he had not even attempted to hide those feelings from his daughter, ensuring that Lexy was always aware of his disappointment in her.

Suppressing those wounding memories, Lexy emerged into the hall to find her host waiting for her.

‘I’ll show you to your room. Like me, you probably want a shower, after your...experience,’ he assumed.

Lexy simply assumed he wanted her out from under his feet in his own home, a reality she could easily understand. Her cheeks warmed with embarrassment as she questioned whether or not to make the offer she had already decided on.

‘I was planning to offer to make dinner as a thank you for your help...that is, assuming there’s food in the larder,’ she admitted uncomfortably.

From his great height, Nic gazed down at her and paused. ‘That would be very kind of you,’ he told her, unable to suppress that generous response when he saw the anxious light in her clear ocean-coloured eyes. It wasn’t the moment to tell her that he was a perfectly capable cook in his own right.

Geographical distance from his domineering father had given him a freedom he could never have enjoyed in Greece. As a business student in London, he had refused the large staffed apartment and the security that Argus had tried to force on him, protesting that he wanted a more normal experience than the Diamandis wealth had allowed him growing up. Argus had scoffed because he had always revelled in showing off his ‘richer than King Midas’ status and the bragging rights that went with it. Nic, on the other hand, didn’t think he could have become half as successful as he had since been without that grounding understanding of how more ordinary people lived.

‘I’ll get changed first,’ Lexy told him cheerfully, a huge smile transforming her formerly tense face. It reminded him of sunshine breaking out after rain and warmed him.

The big, elegant guest room was as impressive as the foyer and the drawing room. She opened her case and extracted what she needed to explore the private bathroom. Everything was the very last word in luxury. My word, who was this guy? A movie star with the bank account to match? If he was, she didn’t recognise him. Certainly, he had the looks to follow such a career.

She had been close to mesmerised when she’d looked up at him in the hall because he was that good-looking. The stop-you-in-your-tracks-to-stare variety. Blue-black hair, flopping damply against his brow, showcasing perfect brows and a straight, equally perfect nose, not to mention the high cheekbones of a model and a full, superbly modelled mouth. Maybe he was a model, Lexy reasoned. Or just a random gorgeous guy!

For goodness’ sake, why was she fangirling over him? Well, she could answer that with ease. He was definitely the most handsome man she had ever met, she conceded as she walked into the marble enclosed shower and sheepishly abandoned her own shampoo and conditioner to make use of the much fancier products on offer there for a guest.

It was not as though her life to date had allowed her to gain much experience with the opposite sex. Studying, working and looking after her depressed and distraught parent had consumed Lexy’s life from the age of fifteen when her father had first dropped the bombshell that he’d wanted a divorce and immediately departed, leaving them marooned in London on what her mother had innocently believed was a holiday. And it was only a year since her late mother had passed away, leaving Lexy free of concern for the first time in years but also distinctly lonely. After all, she had deeply loved Agathe even while she was guiltily wishing her parent would grow a backbone in her dealings with her husband. Agathe had subscribed to the conviction that a husband was to be waited on hand and foot and never ever challenged. Unsurprisingly, she had received poor treatment in return for her near worship of her other half and that had included being ripped off in the divorce that had followed.

Lexy had become wary of men after growing up on the sidelines of her parents’ dysfunctional relationship. Her father had been scary, cold and a strict disciplinarian. He might not have wanted a daughter but, once he’d had one, she’d had to be perfect in every way from her exam results to her appearance. She shuddered at the very thought of how he would have controlled her had she been a more challenging teenager before he’d departed their lives, but luckily he had been gone by the time she’d developed any rebellious tendencies and her mother had been too lost inside her own head to care what her daughter did, never mind what she wore.

But, even then, Lexy had had too many real-world problems to handle to act like a normal teenager. It had been Lexy who’d had to worry about how the rent was paid, food was bought or what school she attended because her mother might have been there in body, but she had never been there in spirit. Lexy hadn’t had the time to crush on pop idols when by the age of fifteen she’d been an illegal kitchen worker in the back of a local restaurant, toiling all hours to pay bills her mother had ignored.

Only when Lexy had finally graduated to earn a decent wage had she had the time to date, and there just hadn’t been anyone out there, give or take the occasional randy junior chef giving her the eye and making a move. So, it really wasn’t any wonder that she was still inexperienced enough to be fangirling over her fanciable host, she decided ruefully.

After drying her hair, she pulled on the yoga pants and tee she had packed for the previous night but not got to wear because the business conference had run into overtime. Feeling fresh and reaching for her bag, which she went nowhere without, she walked back to the hall. It was already dark and through the glass she could see the snow piling up against the windows. She frowned.

‘The snowfall is very heavy,’ she remarked anxiously when she heard a sound behind her.

‘Yes, it’s quite a storm. Would you like a drink?’ She flipped round to see Nic standing in the doorway of the drawing room. ‘You might as well relax as there’s nothing we can do about the weather.’

‘You’re right,’ she conceded with a little nod of her head.

‘Drink? I have pretty much everything,’ he reminded her with a slanting smile that made her heart go bumpety-bumpety-bump straight away.

‘White wine would be good,’ Lexy responded, feeling the heat rise in her face and hoping he didn’t notice.

Fortunately, he turned away and she followed him back into the very fancy big room, still barefoot because she had not thought to pack any other footwear for the hotel and no way was she forcing her feet back into the heels!

The wine came from a built-in chiller cabinet and she tried not to stare, but she felt as though she were visiting royalty because who else might have a disguised chiller in their drawing room? She accepted her wine glass with a tense smile and sank down on the edge of a plush armchair, knowing that if she sat back properly her feet would dangle like a kid’s.

‘So you were up here on a business trip,’ he remarked casually.

‘Yes. I was attending a conference as an interpreter for a South Korean tech firm,’ she imparted with greater calm. ‘I speak Korean and French. I spent the first fifteen years of my life in South Korea because my father worked in Seoul.’

‘Interesting,’ Nic commented, studying her with an intensity that made her feel slightly uncomfortable. Thee mou , she was gorgeous, he was thinking, scanning her pale perfect skin, her sparkling ocean-coloured eyes and her golden hair. There was something about her face that he found hard to look away from and she was reddening again like a traffic light. He focused on the drink in his hand instead, marvelling at his inept behaviour in such circumstances.

‘Maybe you could show me out to the kitchen,’ Lexy almost whispered.

‘I apologise for staring,’ Nic countered easily. ‘You’re impossibly pretty but I assure you that I am not about to do anything about it that could make you feel unsafe.’

Lexy laughed and said, without even thinking about it, ‘I wish I could promise the same!’

Nic gazed back at her with stunned dark-as-night eyes, framed by lush velvet black lashes, narrowing.

Lexy turned hot pink and exclaimed, ‘Because you’re impossibly pretty too and I wouldn’t want you to feel unsafe!’

‘Kitchen,’ Nic reminded her, thinking it was time to end this particular conversation.