Page 9 of On His Bride's Terms

‘How?’

‘As you said, you’re no wide-eyed ingenue. Neither am I. We’d be going into this with the understanding that it is an agreement made between two adults who can see the benefits of such a union. No emotional artifice.’

Faye felt a little breathless all of a sudden. No, there was no emotional artifice, and he wasn’t wide-eyed. He was worldly-wise and experienced.

Once again she had a disconcerting flash of his head coming closer to hers...how he might take her face in his hands, angling it up towards him so he could kiss her so deeply that—

‘You must be fielding curiosity about your personal life too,’ he noted.

Faye smiled thinly. ‘At the age of thirty, I think most people consider me irrelevant.’

Primo’s gaze dropped over her body and then moved back up again, so thoroughly and slowly that it was bordering on insolent. When his eyes met hers again he said, very clearly, ‘You are most definitely not irrelevant.’

Faye hated how that affected her. Because she had no doubt that he turned this easy charm on everyone, bending them to his will.

Deep down, she had been feeling an increasing sense of becoming invisible. Of resigning herself to the fact that she might be alone for the rest of her life. Too independent for some men, too intelligent for others. Too burned by her marriage to let anyone get too close. Too afraid of exposing herself like that again in a world where love-matches didn’t really exist.

She’d somehow forgotten that when she’d met her husband, and had thought that maybe she’d buck the trend, like her parents had, and would have a real marriage.

But it had become clear pretty quickly—at the first bump in the road—that their marriage hadn’t been founded on much at all. A lesson Faye hadn’t forgotten and wouldn’t ever forget.

So in some ways, much as it galled her to admit it, what Primo was proposing wasn’t altogether unappealing. Faye knew her father worried about her. He was an old conservative romantic, and she knew that he would be happier if she were married. She would do anything to make her father happy. But this...?

Then she thought of something Primo hadn’t mentioned and her insides twisted. She knew how to put him off the idea of marrying her.

‘What about children? I presume they’re a part of your long-term plan? You have responsibilities to your own family legacy.’

‘Of course—and, yes, that’s also part of why I’m inclined to consider marriage at this point. I know I have a duty to create a lasting legacy in the form of a family.’

Faye couldn’t help but feel a little sad when she heard the way he laid that out, as if it were just something on a checklist. It was the way most of their peers in their milieu behaved towards having children—it was a strategic thing to secure bloodlines and fortunes. Not—heaven forbid—because they might actually want to invest in the notion of creating a family out of love.

But that was how she’d always envisaged having a family. Not because it was strategic, but because she wanted to recreate the love and security her parents had given to her.

Faye wanted to feel relief that she was about to end this...whatever this was with Primo Holt...before it had even started, but what she did feel was a little more conflicted.

She said, ‘Well, I’m not in the market for having children. Under no circumstances. I won’t provide you with heirs, so ultimately this marriage would have no long-term benefit for you or your family name. It’ll have to be a business deal without the marital benefits, I’m afraid.’

Primo looked at Faye for a long moment. She epitomised sleek elegance, with her hair pulled back. She wore a silk shirt. Tailored trousers nipped in at her waist that drew the eye to her long legs.

The fire he’d sensed last night under the surface of that elegance was on full display now. He imagined the pulse throbbing at sensitive points of her body and his own body responded. He had to grit his jaw and call on every ounce of control he possessed not to embarrass himself.

He’d been curious to see if she’d have the same effect on him today, and if anything it was stronger. And what was disconcerting was the realisation that they’d orbited each other for years—all their lives—and this chemistry had been lying in wait until they’d come close enough to touch.

He focused on what she’d just said. She didn’t want children. That didn’t cause him a huge amount of concern at this point. They barely knew each other, after all. Surely after time spent together they would discuss the matter again and she might feel differently.

Primo’s philosophy on having a family was basically: do no harm. The bar of parenting he’d experienced had been so low as to be practically non-existent. His mother’s abandonment of her two sons hadn’t been preceded by much care and attention, and yet Primo could remember having to pull his brother Quin away from where he’d been clinging on to their mother’s legs as she’d tried to leave. Primo always carried that memory with him, as a reminder never to let his emotions get in the way of reality.

And their father might as well have abandoned them for all the care and attentionhe’dgiven them.

So, as far as Primo was concerned, if he did have a family, he would do his utmost to treat his children with respect and give them a sense of inclusion that he’d never experienced. As for anything more than that? That was in the realm of fiction and fantasies.

‘Children...family...that’s not something we have to discuss now. I realise that this is a lot to absorb.’

Faye was still tense. ‘I don’t think you’re listening to me.’

Oh, Primo was listening. But she was telling him one thing with her mouth and another thing entirely with her eyes and the flush in her cheeks. While the electricity between them was strong enough to light up an entire state. He had an urge to close the distance between them and slide his hand around to the back of her neck, cover her mouth. He wanted to taste her. He imagined she was spicy and tart and sweet all at once. She would surprise him. He was sure of it. And he was still sure, in spite of her protestations, that she was the right choice for him.

She wasn’t remotely intimidated by him. Anticipation burned low in his gut. He had to have her.

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