Page 115 of Modern Romance Collection February 2025, 1-4

His phone vibrated in his pocket and he took it out.

A text.

From Faye.

Primo felt like a teenager as excitement surged in his blood.

You’re right. I am brave.

Primo tipped his head back and sent thanks to every god that existed. He texted:

You’re braver than anyone I know.

I am pretty amazing.

You are.

Go ahead, take off your tie. I’m sure they won’t mind.

Adrenalin filled Primo’s body. She was here.

He looked to his left.

Cold.

He looked to his right.

Getting warmer.

He turned around and looked behind him and he saw her. She had her back to him, but there was a big mirror along the wall and she was watching him in the reflection.

Her hair was down. She was wearing that dress again. The one with the sequins. She was on her own, and he vowed in that moment that she would never, ever be on her own again.

He stood up from the table and said, ‘Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me? There’s someone infinitely more interesting and beautiful that I need to talk to.’

And he went and sat down with his wife.

Much later, in Primo’s bed in his apartment, he and Faye were lying facing each other. They hadn’t even managed to get from the restaurant to the car without making love.

Faye giggled a little at the memory. ‘Do you think they have CCTV in that office?’

Primo grinned. ‘I hope so. It’ll be the scandal of the year.Primo Holt and Faye MacKenzie Bring One of Manhattan’s Most Respected Institutions into Disrepute.’

‘Faye MacKenzie Holt, you mean,’ she corrected him.

They linked hands. Fingers entwined.

Primo said, ‘Say it again, Faye. I need to hear it.’

Faye’s heart squeezed. She hadn’t fully acknowledged yet that, for Primo, handing himself over to someone after watching his own mother abandon him hadn’t been easy.

‘I love you, Primo Holt.’ She pressed a kiss to his mouth. ‘I love you.’ She kissed his chin. ‘I love you.’ She kissed his forehead. ‘I love you.’

‘What made you realise you could do this?’ he asked.

‘The fact that my love for you is greater than my fear of you walking away. I’d always associated the grief I felt that I couldn’t have children with my heartbreak over my husband’s rejection, but I didn’t love him at all. I just loved the idea of being married and having a successful life together...’ She bit her lip, a faint lingering doubt niggling at her. ‘What if it doesn’t work and we can’t have children? What happens to your legacy?’

Primo shrugged. ‘Nowadays, I don’t think succession matters like that. And we have a nephew and two nieces who, in case you hadn’t noticed, are already running rings around their parents and who bear the Holt name.’

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