Page 52 of On His Bride's Terms

She’d lain in bed stewing with a mix of anger and fear that, after seeing her at her worst, he didn’t fancy her any more.

Now they were having breakfast.

‘Yes, São Paulo,’ he said. ‘My brother has extended an invitation for us to visit.’

Faye went still and looked at Primo. He was avoiding her eye. ‘Oh, that’s good...isn’t it?’

Primo was brusque. ‘I haven’t seen him in a long time, or met his wife, so I guess it’s a good thing.’

He was nervous. Faye could feel it. Her heart went out to him.

‘It’d be nice to meet them,’ she said.

He looked at her then. ‘It would be good for your recuperation...some sun and relaxation.’

‘I had the flu—not TB,’ Faye pointed out.

Primo regarded her. ‘It was a severe enough bout that you’re not arguing with me about work.’

For once, that hadn’t been uppermost in Faye’s mind. She scowled at Primo, but he just smiled, and in that moment it was more important than anything to Faye that she’d distracted him from his trepidation about seeing his brother.

She was in so much trouble.

They left New York as dawn rose the following morning. Faye had dressed in soft jeans and a short-sleeved cashmere top. Primo was on the other side of the plane, engrossed in paperwork and on the phone to someone called John.

Faye was enjoying being able to watch him. To see how his lips pursed and the way he ran his hand through his hair, mussing it up. He was wearing a shirt and dark trousers. Every inch a successful titan of business. The fact that she knew the man underneath gave her a serious thrill.

Which fizzled a little when she thought of how caring for her through her illness had killed his desire for her. She made a quick calculation and felt a burst of despair. They’d only been married for just over a month and she’d already fallen for him so hard that it made whatever she’d felt for her first husband look like a teenage crush. And the demise of that relationship had all but dictated her entire last decade.

Primo made her want things she hadn’t admitted to herself that she wanted in so long. Safety. Security. Companionship. A lover.A family.

No. She blocked that thought out immediately. That way lay only certain pain, and she would never expose herself to that again.

She would never know the pain of Primo looking at her as if she was an empty useless vessel, because he would never know the full extent of her painful history.

There was a minimum of five months left before Faye could take advantage of the six-month get-out clause and obtain a divorce and move on. But, she reasoned, if her bout of sicknesshadgiven Primo the ick where the physical part of the marriage was concerned, then at least if Faye re-established their boundaries, and didn’t agree to any more little impromptu trips like this, they could get back to the business of a convenient marriage.

An hour later Faye couldn’t sleep, in spite of the comfortable bed where she’d retreated to stop herself ogling Primo while he worked. Her mind was going a hundred miles to a minute, mainly castigating herself for falling in love with Primo. For allowing him to open up deeply buried desires and dreams.

She heard a noise and came up on one elbow to see the object of her thoughts in the doorway.

‘Hey...’ Her voice still felt a little scratchy.

‘Hey.’

Faye was still in her clothes, but Primo was looking at her as if he’d never seen her before. His gaze seemed navy in the low lights of the bedroom, and she could see how it dropped over her body, lingering on her breasts, belly, thighs. She could feel it like a physical touch.

‘Why are you looking at me like that?’

Because he didn’t want her any more. Right?

Then he asked, ‘Can I join you?’

Very belatedly, Faye realised that he must be tired—they’d both been up early. She went to scramble off the bed. ‘Of course. Sorry. You take the bed. I can go back out—’

‘Where are you going?’

She was sitting on the side of the bed now, looking at him. ‘To give you some space?’

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