Page 24 of On His Bride's Terms

As they waited for Primo’s car to be brought round, Faye wondered if she should hail a cab. But Primo said, ‘My driver is at your disposal, but I would like it if you accompanied me to my apartment. I seem to recall that you don’t have any early engagements.’

Faye might have asked how he knew that, but at Primo’s request her assistant and his now worked together to synchronise their social and work engagements. The fact that he now knew her schedule as intimately as she did was still a bit disconcerting, but then she realised that it worked both ways and smiled.

‘I seem to recall that you have an early pick-up for a flight to London?’

He inclined his head. ‘Indeed, but if you keep me up all night I can sleep on the plane.’

She shrugged minutely, belying the heat in her body at the excitement that gripped her at the thought of keeping him up all night. ‘Why not?’

At that moment, as if on cue, Primo’s driver appeared in front of them, jumping out to open the car’s rear door. Faye got in, and Primo went around to the other side.

The journey to Primo’s apartment didn’t take long, and Faye had to concede that in practical terms it would probably make sense for her to move into Primo’s apartment...but that wasn’t a step she was ready to dive into.

Getting involved in the intimacy of day-to-day living would remind her far too painfully of her first marriage, and the way her husband had shut her out once she could no longer deliver the required heir.

The thought of something similar happening with Primo made her feel a little winded for a moment—andthatwas what kept her cautious. He’d already impacted on her in ways she didn’t want to investigate.

The car was pulling to a smooth stop now, outside a tall building bordering the park. When Faye got out Primo was there to greet her, holding out a hand. As she took it, flashes of light alerted them to the paparazzi who must have followed.

Primo cursed softly under his breath, and when they were inside he said, ‘I’m sorry about that. I had no idea we were being followed.’

Faye shrugged a little. ‘It’s just as well I agreed to come with you—otherwise there’d be a story onPage Sixtomorrow, speculating as to why we’re not living together.’

They were in a private elevator now. Primo leaned back against the wall. ‘That’s not why I asked you to come back with me. I want to make love to you. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since Venice.’

Faye’s heart sped up. She hadn’t stopped thinking about it either, but the elevator doors opened at that moment so she didn’t have to speak.

Primo led her into a circular entrance hall. Marble floor, walls painted a light soft grey with blue tones.

‘Let me take your jacket.’

Faye let it slip from her shoulders. Primo took it and put it in a small cloakroom. He led her through one doorway into a large reception room. It was bright and airy, with sumptuous couches, coffee tables. Understated tones of blue and grey. Classic. Elegant.

Then she spotted something on one wall and gasped, walking over to stand before the massive canvas. Primo came and stood beside her, and handed her a glass of sparkling wine.

She said, ‘It’s a Monet. I didn’t know you had one in your private collection. It’s one of his Haystacks paintings.’

‘You mean I could have lured you here before now with that?’ Primo joked.

Faye tore her gaze from the luminously beautiful painting. ‘He’s one of my favourite artists.’

Primo looked at the painting. ‘Mine too—although I’d say for far less knowledgeable reasons than you.’

Faye shook her head. ‘It’s nothing to do with knowledge. It’s how it makes you feel.’

She felt her skin prickle and turned her head to find Primo watching her.

‘Do you want to know how you make me feel?’ he asked.

Faye’s hand clutched the glass. ‘Do I?’

Primo’s gaze turned dark and explicit. ‘Hungry.’

She was ravenous. She wanted his hands on her.

‘I’m hungry too,’ she admitted, although it felt as if saying that was chipping away at the walls inside her.

He smiled. ‘That wasn’t so hard, now, was it?’

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