Page 12 of On His Bride's Terms

No, she corrected herself. He was expressing an interest in acquiring a convenient wife along with his new business venture.

At that moment her phone pinged with a message and she looked at it.

I want to marry you, Faye, so you’re going to have to come up with something more compelling than a lack of desire to have children. Primo.

Faye put her hand to her mouth and let out a little helpless sound somewhere between laughter and a sob. It was as if he was inside her head, hearing her innermost thoughts.

It wasn’t just that she wouldn’t agree to have children.She couldn’t have children.It was the reason why her first marriage had broken down. She’d got pregnant in textbook style, practically on their wedding night, but very early into the pregnancy she’d started bleeding and had been in intense pain. She’d been rushed to hospital for emergency surgery, where she’d had a miscarriage. There had been complications, and a few days later she’d had to have a partial hysterectomy. Her womb had been removed.

It had been utterly devastating and her relationship with her husband hadn’t been strong enough to survive.

Faye had vowed never to put herself through that pain again—the pain of finding out so cruelly just how naive she’d been in believing that her husband loved her enough to want her just for herself. All she’d been to him was a trophy wife to stand by his side and a vessel to bear his heirs.

So why on earth would she agree to dive headlong into a marriage with someone who wanted her for the same thing? The only difference this time was that she was under no illusions that Primo Holt loved her. And she certainly didn’t love him. She barely knew him.

He was bold, uncompromising. Faye should hate it that he was being so pushy. Demanding. But it wasn’t hate she felt. It was something a lot more complicated. And, perhaps even more disturbingly, she felt a sense of curiosity.

In spite of every misgiving, Faye was filled with a sudden desire to consider taking something for herself. Reclaiming a part of her womanhood and reputation that had been decimated with the divorce. She could still remember the looks and whispers as people had wondered what on earth was wrong with her that she hadn’t been able to hang on to her husband for even a year.

It had been so cruel. She’d felt like a failure as a woman because she’d failed to bring a pregnancy to term and would never bear a child.

The truth of her medical condition had never been made public, thankfully. Not even her father knew the full extent of her operation. It had been too raw and painful to share.

And so Faye had just held her head high and weathered the scrutiny and gossip until the next inevitable scandal had come along and she’d become yesterday’s news.

But even today, after she’d healed so much from that early raw pain, there was an air of failure that seemed to cling to her in public. And pity. Maybe a marriage with Primo Holt would give her a chance to redeem herself. Not that she’d ever really needed that validation, but a small part of her still felt that pitying scrutiny whenever she stepped into a public space. Alone. And it did get to her, deep inside, down to the part of the wound that had never been allowed to fully heal.

Not only that, it would secure the business deal with her father and the family business. Protect them on another level. As Primo had said himself, he’d be‘more personally invested’.

A sense of illicit excitement gripped her as she entertained the notion of actually acquiescing to Primo’s proposal. But the excitement dissolved a little when she thought of how she couldn’t possibly offer him what he would ultimately need to secure his position—the next generation.

But maybe she could ensure that that would never be an issue. If he was willing to agree toherterms for a marriage.

Before she lost her nerve, Faye typed back a response to his last text:

I’m willing to discuss things further.

A text came back almost immediately.

Good, my assistant will be in touch to arrange a meeting.

Two weeks later, Manhattan

It was her wedding day. Faye’s head was still spinning at the speed with which things had moved since she’d sent that text to Primo.

The speed of light.

The speed of Primo.

She was in the luxuriously spacious en suite bathroom of the penthouse suite in one of Manhattan’s oldest and most iconic hotels.

Primo had booked her and her father in, insisting that they stay there rather than travel in and out of the city. A thoughtful gesture. They could have used Faye’s Manhattan apartment, but this was far more convenient and comfortable.

On this same floor there was a function room where guests were already mingling. It was a small crowd. Intimate. Her father, some of their closest friends and their legal team. On Primo’s side he had no family, just his legal team as witnesses.

Faye looked at her reflection in the mirror, feeling as if she was looking at someone else. She was wearing cream high-waisted tailored trousers, wide legged, teamed with a midriff-skimming long-sleeved sheer top overlaid with lace and intricate beading. Her hair was pulled back into a low chignon, and she wore classic pearls and the engagement ring Primo had surprised her with a couple of days after she’d agreed to marry him. A square yellow diamond with smaller triangular white diamonds on each side in a gold setting. It was an antique, from his family vault, and yet it felt surprisingly modern and very elegant. It also fitted snugly, without needing alteration. Something that had unsettled Faye a little—especially as she didn’t consider herself to be remotely superstitious.

Just the previous day she had signed the final legal papers—a marriage agreement setting out the parameters of this union. She’d met with Primo in his offices over a week ago and laid out her terms for a marriage, all of which he’d agreed to—which had taken her by surprise.

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