Page 49 of On His Bride's Terms

‘Very well, Mr Holt. I’ll be right back.’

A name popped into Faye’s head. ‘Marjorie.’

Primo was pulling clean sheets up over her waist. ‘That’s right. She’s my housekeeper here. You’ve met her before.’

The woman came back with a tray that Primo took from her, saying, ‘Thanks.’

Faye’s voice still felt scratchy and a little sore. ‘I’ve been really out of it...’

‘You were. At one point I almost took you to the ER, but you told me not to.’

‘I did?’ Faye had no recollection.

‘Here, try some of this.’

Primo was bringing a spoon to her mouth and Faye obediently opened up. The warm, tasty soup was the most delicious thing she’d ever tasted.

‘Well, you haven’t eaten in days.’

She hadn’t realised she’d spoken out loud. Suspiciously, she asked, ‘Was I saying things?’

Primo brought another spoonful to her mouth and she dutifully drank it down.

He said, ‘There was a lot of muttering about fences and walls. And bricks crumbling.’

Faye cringed when she realised the significance of her ramblings. Primo knocking down her precious defences.

She asked, ‘What day is it?’

‘Tuesday.’

Faye calculated. The Boston event had been on a Friday. She’d lost a whole weekend. And then she realised something else and sat up straight.

‘I’m meant to be curating the hanging of new art in the Goldman Law Practice downtown.’

Primo put a hand on her shoulder, pushing her back against the pillow gently. ‘Your assistant has let them know you’re unwell and they’ve put the installation on hold until you’re better. All your other appointments are being rescheduled.’

She realised something else as Primo fed her another spoonful of soup. After she’d swallowed, she said, ‘You’ve been taking care of me... What about your work?’

‘It’s fine. I rescheduled some meetings...worked from home.’

The enormity of how ill she’d been hit her—and the way Primo had taken care of her. ‘I’m sorry. I had no idea I was coming down with something so bad. I shouldn’t have gone to Boston.’

He looked at her. ‘How on earth could you have known?’

‘I’m feeling better now. I can go back to my own apartment today.’

Primo emitted a sound of exasperation. ‘You aren’t strong enough yet. You need at least another day...maybe two days...to rest and recuperate.’

‘But I—’

Primo put down the tray and stood up, hands on his hips, ‘Faye, dammit. I’m your husband. I’m supposed to take care of you. We made vows, remember? In sickness and in health?’

Faye’s insides quivered. She’d never seen Primo like this. ‘Yes, I know, but...it’s not as if we were saying them...’ She trailed off.

‘For real?’ he finished. ‘They were real enough to me.’

That landed like a soft blow to her gut. ‘But this is just a...a marriage of convenience...a business arrangement.’

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