Page 14 of On His Bride's Terms

Primo had stood up too and regarded her. ‘Forgive me. I don’t mean to mock. You know where I stand on the fantasy of romance in marriage. But I would like this marriage to function, and for it to function we need to be aligned in public and in private. If you don’t think that is possible then maybe this is not a good idea.’

She’d overreacted. And Faye had felt even more exposed. Primo had agreed to all of her terms, and it obviously made sense for their marriage to appear as real as possible.

Aware of the stakes if she pulled out at that point, she’d taken a breath and said, ‘I do think it’s possible. I want this marriage to work too.’

For six months at the most.

There was a knock on the door at that moment, jolting Faye out of her memories of last week. She said absently, ‘Come in.’

It was her father, stooped and walking unsteadily with two sticks. Even so, he looked dapper in his steel-grey three-piece suit. He was determined to walk her down the aisle. Her father knew well that this was no love-match, but she could see that he hoped it might become something enduring. She hadn’t told him of her terms. Her conscience pricked, but she told herself that the long-term benefits of having been married to Primo Holt even for a brief period would be worth it.

Her father looked at her with suspiciously shiny eyes. ‘You remind me so much of your mother...you look beautiful.’

Now Faye’s eyes stung. ‘No one was as beautiful as Mother.’

Her father said a little gruffly, ‘They’re ready for us.’

Faye sucked in a breath and gathered up her matching cropped jacket and the posy of flowers—yellow and cream, matching her outfit and the engagement ring. She hadn’t even thought to organise flowers. Primo had done it.

She went to her father and forced a smile, slipping an arm through one of his. ‘Let’s go, then, shall we?’

Primo didn’t like how on edge he felt. Almost...nervous. Which was ridiculous. He couldn’t ever remember feeling nervous in his life. But right now he was definitely not feeling his usual level of confidence.

Arrogance.

Faye had accused him of being arrogant. As he’d told her, he’d be the first to admit to it. But he wasn’t so arrogant that it made him blind to things. He certainly wasn’t blind to the fact that Faye MacKenzie was an enigma.

He knew she was marrying him for her own ends—to shore up the business deal with her father and to bolster her own reputation after a failed early marriage and years of being something of a social outlier. In spite of professing not to care what people thought, she was human, and no one was immune to the lingering toxicity of an old scandal.

But apart from that...? He knew she wasn’t mercenary. She had a family fortune of her own to inherit. Not to mention a very lucrative and successful career as one of the world’s most respected art brokers.

So, was she marrying him because she was also getting something more personal out of it? He wasn’t so sure after she’d informed him that they’d have tomakeplansto consummate their marriage.

Usually women were only too happy to bare all with him as soon as possible—physically and emotionally. But not this woman. She looked at him with those gold and green eyes warily.

He knew there was heat between them. The moment they were in the same room he felt it like a live current. Maybe he should have kissed her that day when she’d come to his office, looking so prim in a trouser suit. Accusing him of mocking her. He’d wanted to kiss her. To muss up her hair. Undo the buttons of her blouse. Mess with that pristine elegant surface and demonstrate the physical benefits of a marriage that had nothing to do withromance.

The prospect of that made his blood hum with anticipation.

But at that moment a hush went over the group of people in the function room. The back of Primo’s neck prickled as the celebrant came and stood before him and gave a cue to the string quartet, who started playing music.

For a moment Primo felt an almost superstitious reluctance to turn around to see his bride. But then, telling himself he was being ridiculous, because this really was just a slightly more personal and intimate form of a business deal, he turned around and was instantly awe-struck.

Faye was stunning.

Primo barely noticed her father, or how slowly she walked with him to keep pace. He drank her in. She was elegant and cool and sexy all at once in a wide-legged trouser suit. Hair pulled back. Make-up discreet. He saw the flash of her yellow diamond engagement ring and felt a surge of possessiveness to think of one of his ancestor’s rings onherhand, marking her as his. It was a deeply primal and uncool sentiment to feel, but he couldn’t help it. Primo had never felt possessive of a woman in his life; when those games started he would be gone.

She wore a top under her jacket that at first sight looked transparent, sending his pulse into overdrive, but then he realised it was sheer, not transparent, and overlaid with beaded lace. Edgy. Sophisticated. He hadn’t known what she would wear, and from what he’d seen of her so far she clearly favoured a modern kind of elegance.

She reached him. Her scent was subtle and made him want to lean closer. Roses and musk...and something much more sharp cutting through those classic notes.

She looked at him with those wide hazel eyes. They glowed green today, enhanced by her subtle make-up. Long lashes. Mouth slick with a colour that looked like wine.

Primo suddenly had an image of taking a glass of wine and tipping it over her bare skin before licking it—

‘Take care of her. She’s precious to me.’

Primo’s wayward imaginings dissolved under the unmistakably steely tone of Faye’s father as he handed his daughter to her fiancé. He forced himself to meet the man’s eyes and said with full sincerity, ‘I intend to take very good care of her.’ His gaze went to Faye’s. ‘If she allows me.’

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