He’d never experienced anything like this before, because he’d never have indulged a lover in case she got the wrong idea. And also, he had to concede, because no lover had ever inspired him to want to do something so fanciful.

To book an Irish castle for a night.

To ride horses on an empty sea-swept beach.

To eat oysters by a blazing fire.

But, as he’d told her, he intended for them to have a honeymoon—and wasn’t this the kind of thing honeymooners did? After all, he had decided in Paris that forging as strong a bond as possible between them would be a good investment in this marriage. Hence his decision to follow her to Dublin and surprise her.

But at that moment a series of images from the previous night appeared in his head in Technicolor X-rated detail. As much as he’d like to think he was in control of his actions, he had a niggling sense that any sense of control was an illusion. That in fact he was being driven by far more base impulses.

Nonsense. Of course he was in control.

So why did it bother youso much to see that beaming joy disappear from her face when she’d realised how you knew about her prowess with horses?

Primo could have told her a white lie—that he’d had no idea. But he didn’t lie. He had known from the file he’d had prepared on her.

He felt defensive now. Why should that be a problem? It wasn’t as if either of them was under any illusions as to why they’d got married.

The point was how they’d forge a successful relationship from this point onwards.

Primo nudged his horse into a canter and swiftly caught up with Faye. He caught her horse’s reins, bringing both animals to a halt.

She looked at him, eyes wide. ‘What are you doing?’

He leaned forward and took her chin in his hand and kissed her hard. She tasted of sea salt, and he could feel the texture of sand on her face. His kiss gentled, and she resisted for a moment before softening. Something inside him exulted, but he fought temptation and pulled back.

‘There was nothing in any file aboutthisbetween us, Faye. This chemistry is what will take our marriage to another level.’

She looked at him, and her eyes were very green and gold, reflecting the landscape. He couldn’t read her and it irritated him. Usually he found women easy to read.

But then she smiled and pulled back. ‘If this is your attempt to try and beat me, it’s pretty pathetic.’

She nudged her horse and cantered away from Primo towards the castle.

He shook his head at himself. There was nothing to be concerned about. He was letting the Irish mist rolling down off the hills get to him. He went after Faye, and she beat him back to the stable-yard by a nose.

CHAPTER EIGHT

THERIDEBACKto the castle had helped elevate Faye’s mood again. She really had no right to feel hurt by Primo. He’d never lied to her. And he was right. This chemistry between them was unprecedented, and she had every intention of making the most of it while it lasted.

In the stables, they handed back their hats to the groom and said goodbye to the horses, who were getting hosed down before being fed. Faye felt very dishevelled and windswept, but also happy. She hadn’t indulged in horse riding for so long, and it had used to be one of her favourite activities. It made her think of how linear her life had become.

She came out of the stables and Primo was waiting for her, dressed in the same kind of waxy jacket she was wearing—loaned to them by the castle’s housekeeper. In his snug worn jeans and boots, hair messy, he suddenly looked a lot younger. And sexier than she’d ever seen him.

Primo was looking at her as if he’d never seen her before, and it sent an electric jolt all the way through her body. He walked over to her and cupped her jaw, eyes roving over her face.

He said, ‘Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?’

Faye might have laughed if Primo hadn’t looked so serious. Her hair was a wild tangle, any make-up she’d had on had been sand and wind-blasted off her face, and she was pretty sure she’d just stepped in horse manure.

But he’d never looked more gorgeous to her too. The beauty of the landscape, the earthiness of the smell of the horses and salty tang of the wild sea...all seemed to combine to create a mutual urgency.

Primo took her hand and led her through the back door of the castle to the boot room, where they slipped off their boots. Then, without stopping, he took her hand again and led her up through the house, straight to their bedroom.

At this point Faye couldn’t care less that they’d been given only one bedroom. She hardly noticed the gleaming dark wooden floors, overlaid with rugs. The heavy drapes. The blazing fire behind a guard. The huge, imposing four-poster bed. The portraits of strangers on the wall. The gold claw-footed bath by the window.

All she had eyes for was Primo, and all she could think about was how badly she needed to be naked with him. But instead of ripping off her clothes, he stepped up to her and cupped her jaw and her face. Then he kissed her, long and slow and deep, until her legs nearly gave way.