Page 57 of Modern Romance Collection February 2025, 1-4

The fact that his blood was humming with electricity and awareness only added to the sense of rightness. He wanted her. As he hadn’t wanted a woman in a long time. The soft golden lights turned her dark hair and pale skin lustrous. From a distance earlier, the elegantly simple dress had only hinted at the body underneath, but up close she was all woman, with tantalising curves.

But as he watched her he could see the shock fade and her jaw tighten. She said, ‘Thank you for the drink, Mr Holt, but if you’ve had your fun, I’m going to leave now.’

She turned away and started to move out of the booth. It took a second for Primo to realise she was really leaving. He was so unused to anyone walking away from him.

Something unfamiliar made his gut lurch. Was it...panic?

He cursed himself. He had misread this situation badly. He was usually a lot more suave than this.

Before he knew what he was doing, he’d put his hand on her arm and was saying, ‘Stop, please... I’m not making fun of you. This isn’t a joke.’

CHAPTER TWO

THEFOLLOWINGDAY, Faye paced up and down in the reception room at the family home. She hadn’t slept a wink. Her head was full of questions and revelations and sheer...shock. Still.

Primo Holt had asked her for a drink under false pretences.

Her anger and humiliation still burned bright.

He wanted to marry her.

Faye stopped pacing as she recalled how he’d tried to persuade her to stay at the bar, but she’d insisted on leaving.

He’d said to her before she’d left, ‘I may have made an error in being so upfront, but after meeting you I thought you’d appreciate this approach more.’

More than what? Faye had asked herself as she’d made her way back to the family home in Westchester. He’d insisted on his driver taking her. In the end she’d accepted that offer, feeling that after inviting her out to have a joke at her expense it was the least he could do.

But it had been no joke.

He’d been deadly serious, because he’d had an agenda all along, while she’d been staring lustfully at his mouth. The memory made her burn. And she hadn’t even known the full extent of his agenda until this morning, when he’d arrived at the house to have a meeting with her father.

Aprearrangedmeeting.

The sense of exposure made her insides curdle. She’d believed that Primo Holt had fancied her, and that that was why he’d asked her for a drink. It had been a total charade. He’d just wanted to see her up close before going into a meeting with her father, and she knew exactly what that would be about. Because, as those men last night had alluded to, her father was in a weak position and Primo Holt was making his real intentions very clear.

To take over MacKenzie Enterprises.

Faye cursed herself.Howcould she have been so blind? So naive? God knew, she more than most women knew what this world was like and how everyone in it was a commodity. She’d learned that lesson after her first marriage, because as soon as she’d become a worthless commodity her husband had cut her loose. Less than a year into their marriage.

She veered away from that particular memory, focusing her ire on Primo Holt again. She’d been distracted by a hard body and a pretty—no—a spectacular face. Proving that in spite of everything she really was as weak and susceptible as any blushing debutante.

At least he didn’t woo you, pointed out a little voice.

Faye shuddered delicately. There was that, at least. He hadn’t drawn out the charade. That would have been worse. At least she’d only been under the illusion that he fancied her for about an hour, and not for weeks. She would have exposed herself even more.

Because the truth was that she’d found him far too exciting and thrilling, and if he’d tried to do something like kiss her—Her face burned at the knowledge that she would have let him.

He’d awoken a dormant fire inside her. A fire she’d buried ever since she’d been so badly burned by her marriage. A fire that she wasn’t entirely sure she’d ever felt before. Not even with her husband.

There was a light knock on the door and Faye tensed. ‘Come in.’

Mary, their housekeeper, appeared in the doorway. ‘Mr Holt has finished his meeting with your father. He’d like to see you before he leaves.’

I bet he would.

Faye felt like petulantly refusing to see him, but she knew she couldn’t. This was so much bigger now than their mortifying non-date last night.

‘Of course. Please show him in.’

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