Page 5 of On His Bride's Terms

He lifted his glass and said, ‘No.’ He took a sip of his drink.

Faye felt a little light-headed. They were discussing subjects that seemed awfully personal for a first conversation between relative strangers.

Afraid that she was getting lost in a little fantasy that this was a date, she said, ‘It’s very nice that you asked me here for a drink...but you mentioned needing my opinion on something?’

To her surprise, Primo suddenly looked a little abashed—if such a man could look abashed.

He said, ‘I have to admit that while Iwouldbe interested in your professional opinion, it’s not the primary reason I asked you here, which is for something along more personal lines.’

There was no mistaking the gleam of interest in his eyes now. There was a slow thump of Faye’s heart. ‘Oh?’ She couldn’t help asking. ‘I’m a little curious...why me?’

Why not one of the vastly younger and more beautiful women who had been at that function, simpering and pouting and looking for their next rich and powerful boyfriend?

Primo looked at her. ‘You’re a very beautiful woman.’

Faye didn’t like how those words made her insides fizz and jump like a young girl’s. She was too old for these games, and her impression of Primo so far was that he wasn’t a game-player.

Her gaze narrowed. ‘Thank you for the compliment, but we both know you could be sitting here with someone far more wide-eyed than me.’

Primo felt a surge of adrenalin go through him.Thiswas why he wanted to marry Faye MacKenzie—precisely because she wasn’t some wide-eyed ingenue. And she was extraordinarily beautiful. Far more than he’d given her credit for. No wonder she’d been drawing looks at the party.

Her eyes were huge, and the most unusual shade of hazel, turning from gold to brown to green within a second. Finely drawn dark brows. Exquisite bone structure. But it was her mouth that had captivated Primo the minute he’d seen her up close. It was full. Lush. At odds with such a refined face. Hinting at a level of sensuality that was backed up by a refreshing earthiness he didn’t usually encounter in women from this milieu.

He shook his head slowly and said, ‘On the contrary, I knew I wanted to ask you for a drink before I introduced myself.’

He saw how she tensed slightly, drew back. ‘What does that mean?’

‘It means that I already knew I wanted to talk to you. To meet you.’

Primo knew instinctively that the only way to play it with this woman was to put his cards on the table. She wouldn’t appreciate games.

‘It’s quite simple. I would like you to consider marrying me.’

Those stunning eyes widened and Primo noticed how long her lashes were. She was shocked. Colour left her cheeks.

She said a little faintly, ‘Did I just hear you say...?’ She trailed off.

‘That I would like you to consider a marriage proposal? Yes, you did.’

She was visibly tense now. Primo had to curb a strange urge to touch her, as if to comfort her in some way. Reassure her.

She shook her head slowly, as if trying to clear it of something, and then she said, ‘That’s the most preposterous thing I’ve ever heard. We don’t even know each other.’

‘Hence the reason why I wanted to meet you. To ascertain what I already suspected: that you and I have the potential to make a great match.’

The fact that his blood was humming with electricity and awareness only added to the sense of rightness. He wanted her. As he hadn’t wanted a woman in a long time. The soft golden lights turned her dark hair and pale skin lustrous. From a distance earlier, the elegantly simple dress had only hinted at the body underneath, but up close she was all woman, with tantalising curves.

But as he watched her he could see the shock fade and her jaw tighten. She said, ‘Thank you for the drink, Mr Holt, but if you’ve had your fun, I’m going to leave now.’

She turned away and started to move out of the booth. It took a second for Primo to realise she was really leaving. He was so unused to anyone walking away from him.

Something unfamiliar made his gut lurch. Was it...panic?

He cursed himself. He had misread this situation badly. He was usually a lot more suave than this.

Before he knew what he was doing, he’d put his hand on her arm and was saying, ‘Stop, please... I’m not making fun of you. This isn’t a joke.’

CHAPTER TWO

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