Page 78 of Modern Romance Collection February 2025, 1-4

Before she could delete the cutesy copycatyour wife, she sent the text and threw the phone down.

Her insides were somersaulting like a teenager’s. Ugh. This had so not been the plan when she’d signed up to this marriage.

CHAPTER SIX

Paris

‘ISTHEREAbetter time to be in Paris than in the spring?’ The woman beside Primo at the cocktail party gave a slightly annoying laugh. ‘I know it’s such a cliché, but isn’t Paris just so beautiful?’

Primo wasn’t and hadn’t ever been unaware of Paris’s beauty, but to his shame he’d always taken it for granted. Today, for the first time ever, he’d had a little time after a lunch meeting and had taken a walk back to the hotel along the Seine. And he had noticed the trees in blossom, the people strolling along with dogs or just eating lunch.

He’d noticed lovers too, locked in passionate embraces. And that had made him think of Faye. And how, since the other night in Manhattan, he hadn’t been able to gettheirpassionate embraces out of his head.

In bed, she was everything that he’d thought she would be and more. Under that serene and elegant surface was an earthy, sensual woman whose appetites matched his. It was a little unexpected to find that he was married to the best lover he’d ever had. The most he’d hoped for was that they’d be compatible. What they actually were was combustible.

It would fade, Primo had told himself that afternoon, as he’d sat down for a few minutes and ordered an espresso from a riverside café. As if the coffee might help to burn away some of the anticipation he felt because he knew that Faye was coming to Paris to meet him.

Strange that it had felt like such a victory when she’d texted earlier.

I’ve managed to rearrange some of my meetings. I’ll see you at the event. F

He’d been in an early meeting in London and he’d felt like a teenager whose crush had just agreed to go out with him.

Ridiculous.

He only realised he was scowling now when the‘Isn’t Paris just so beautiful?’woman beside him looked a little alarmed.

He rearranged his facial expression and said, ‘You are right. It is absolutely the most beautiful city in the springtime. Now, if you’ll excuse me, please?’

He’d turned to walk away, and was just thinking to himselfWhere the hell is she?when the little hairs went up on the back of his neck.

He looked up the stairs that led down into the room where the party was being held. Faye was standing at the top in a flowing black knee-length cocktail dress. Sleeveless. So far so classic. But it had a deep vee that cut between her breasts, and when she moved the dress shone and sparkled from the intricately beaded lace overlay.

She wore vertiginous high heels, and Primo couldn’t take his eyes off her as she came down the stairs, her legs long and shapely. Deep within him he felt a very primal beat saying,Mine, mine, mine.

He walked to the bottom of the stairs to meet her. Standing on the bottom step, she was at a slightly higher level than him, and Primo gave in to temptation and kissed her. He felt her quickly indrawn breath and then, within a beat, her mouth had softened under his. If not for the crowded room behind him, he would have been hauling her closer and indulging in seeing how easy it would be to slide a hand under one side of her dress to cup a breast.

He drew back reluctantly. She blinked at him. Her hair was pulled back, sleek. In a low ponytail. She wore minimal jewellery, but he could see the engagement and wedding rings in his peripheral vision, and he was filled with such a strong sense of satisfaction that it was a little disconcerting.

He said, ‘Thank you for coming. You look stunning.’

She suddenly looked a little shy, with an expression he hadn’t noticed before because usually she was so confident. It made him think of how she could often appear a little shy before they started making love, but then she’d be all heat and fire and—

‘Thank you. You look...lovely too.’

Primo felt a burgeoning sense of something very light and expansive filling his chest. He tucked Faye’s arm into his and led her into the room. ‘So, can I take it that you decided to join me because you missed me?’

‘Not quite,’ was her dry response.

Primo let her go to take two glasses of sparkling wine from a waiter and handed her one.‘Santé.’

She arched a brow. ‘You speak French?’

‘Mais, bien sûr.I also speak Spanish, Italian, German and passable Mandarin.’

Faye looked a little smug. ‘Me too. I also speak Arabic and passable Farsi. I did a few months’ study of Persian Art in Iran a few years ago.’

Primo bowed his head. ‘I defer to your superior linguistic abilities. So, tell me, what on earth else could have tempted you to come to Paris if it wasn’t your insanely handsome and virile husband?’

---