Page 40 of On His Bride's Terms

Primo made a similar sound. Then he observed, ‘You’re pretty unspoiled for the heiress to one of America’s largest fortunes.’

Faye took a sip of wine. She felt deliciously relaxed. ‘I could say the same of you. Why aren’t you a playboy brat?’

Primo shrugged minutely as he broke a piece of bread off a loaf and dunked it into the stew. ‘Like you, that lifestyle never really interested me. And I was aware of people gossiping about my father at an early age. If I went into work with him I used to see how he wasn’t really respected, and that made an impression. I felt ashamed. I knew I didn’t want that. From a young age I knew I wanted to restore respect in our family name.’

‘That’s a pretty profound revelation to have. And your brother wasn’t interested at all?’

Primo shook his head. ‘Quin was the nerd—always had his head buried in his computer, coding or gaming.’

‘You were pretty good on that horse today,’ she said. ‘Where did you learn to ride?’

‘Actually...’ he said slowly, as if it was just occurring to him. ‘My mother taught me. She was a brilliant horsewoman. Her family bred racehorses in Brazil.’

‘Were you close before she left?’

Primo shook his head. ‘She was generally too busy fighting with my father. But I’d forgotten about her taking me horse riding. Quin would have been too small.’

‘Do you see her now?’

‘Not much—sometimes at social events. I’ve forgotten what number husband she’s on.’

Faye absorbed that. ‘I was pretty lucky with my parents, but I always wished I had siblings. I was lonely.’

‘What about friends?’

Faye shrugged. ‘Sure, I had my friends. But when I wasn’t at school the house always felt very empty, and I could tell my parents were sad.’

‘They couldn’t have more children?’

Faye’s insides clenched. How had she let them get onto this topic? She shook her head. ‘No. My mother had complications after my birth and couldn’t...’ She trailed off, because it was too painful to articulate the fact that Faye appeared to have inherited her mother’s gynaecological issues.

‘I’m sorry.’

Faye avoided Primo’s eyes, because she could hear the genuine compassion in his voice. She busied herself clearing their plates, and quickly changed the subject in case his questions became even more personal.

‘So, are you going to tell me where our next stop is on this magical mystery honeymoon tour?’

Primo sat back and watched Faye taking the plates over to the sink. He was well aware that she was deflecting talking any further on this topic of conversation, but even though he wanted to ask her if her family history had anything to do with why she was so adamant not to have a family, he decided not to.

A few things were striking him.

Such as how unlike any other woman he’d ever known she was.

She really was incredibly unspoiled. He couldn’t think of anyone else who would be happy to sit at a well-loved kitchen table without a silver service and eat a humble, albeit delicious stew.

She was loading the dishwasher now. He didn’t even know where his dishwasher was, and he felt a dart of shame.

She was barefoot. But not even the loose casual clothes could hide her beauty. Hair up, tendrils falling down. Face clear and fresh. It reminded him of how she’d looked on the horse...so happy.

He could get used to making this woman happy.

The thought appeared unbidden in his mind. He told himself it was an entirely legitimate thought to have about one’s wife. But on a deeper level Primo knew that it wasn’t necessarily just about making her happy for the sake of the relationship. It had something to do with makinghimhappy too.

Happy. Since when had he needed to be happy?

He wasn’t averse to the idea, obviously, but it wasn’t something he’d ever given much thought to. And he realised now that perhaps there was something a bit sad about never acknowledging the need for happiness...

Faye was looking at him and waving a hand. ‘Hi, where did you go?’

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