Page 83 of Modern Romance Collection February 2025, 1-4

Faye held out her cup. She knew she was being ridiculous, but this was exactly why she’d pushed so hard to have boundaries between her and Primo—to avoid this kind of cosy domestic scene. For her it brought back too many painful memories of breakfasting on her own once her previous husband had decided she was no longer a viable wife.

‘Thank you,’ she said, as graciously as she could, and took a sip of the strong hot drink.

‘Not a morning person?’

She looked at him and felt her irritation sapping away. Shewasbeing ridiculous. ‘I guess I’m just used to my own space.’

‘You don’t like to hang out with lovers the morning after?’

Faye shuddered lightly. ‘Not generally, no.’ She looked at him over the rim of her cup. ‘You?’

His mouth firmed a little. ‘I’ve tended to avoid it, as it can signify a desire for an intimacy that I’m not interested in.’

He looked at her again.

‘But this is different...we’re married.’ Primo gestured to the table full of fruit and tempting pastries. ‘Look at us, having our first breakfast together. Cute.’

There was only the slightest hint of mockery in Primo’s voice.

Faye desisted from making a face, or saying,Don’t get used to it.But she wanted to turn the spotlight on him and asked, as she picked up apain au chocolat, ‘Based on what you told me about your thoughts on marriage and romance, I’m assuming you’ve never been in love?’

Primo took a sip of his own coffee. He shook his head. ‘No. I don’t believe in it. I think people form attachments...have things in common. They like to call it love as a justification for staying together, for choosing one person.’

He looked at her.

‘Youhave been in love.’

CHAPTER SEVEN

FAYEFELTPANICKY. How did he know? What had she told him about her husband?

‘I never told you that.’

‘No,’ he agreed. ‘But your first marriage wounded you more than just on the surface. You were hurt.’

Faye avoided his eyes and picked at the pastry. Eventually she admitted, ‘I thought I was in love with him, but I was just naive.’

‘You were young, and you had a good example from your parents. Why wouldn’t you have hoped for a successful relationship built on more than just strategy after seeing that?’

Faye looked at him. Sometimes she felt a lot older than her years, having gone through a marriage and a divorce and the trauma of becoming infertile. But here with Primo and his non-judgemental acceptance she felt lighter. Somehow...younger again. As if there were still possibilities.

She shook her head at the fanciful notion. Good sex. That was all it was. Addling her brain.

‘Maybe,’ she conceded, and put some of the pastry in her mouth in case she asked any more leading questions.

It didn’t surprise her that he hadn’t been in love, but she didn’t like to admit that she felt a sense of relief. It disturbed her—the thought of someone being able to crack this man’s generally serene exterior.

They managed to eat and finish their coffee companionably enough, but then Faye realised something. ‘My clothes are all in my room, on another floor.’

Primo said, ‘I’ve arranged for the butler to gain access to your room and bring over some things so you can dress.’

Once again he was demonstrating an easy and generous courtesy. It made something swoop dangerously inside her. Chipping away at her defences. Faye felt churlish for insisting on maintaining her own space, but after last night, and how easily he could make her lose herself, it was more important than ever.

She stood up. ‘Thank you for doing that.’

‘They’re in the guest room.’

‘I’ll go back to my room before we head out, if that’s okay? Meet you in the lobby in about twenty minutes?’

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