Page 96 of Modern Romance Collection February 2025, 1-4

Primo made a cross shape on his chest. ‘I promise.’

Faye tugged him with her, out of the bar, and Primo followed, leaving in his wake an aborted business dinner and not one ounce of regret.

When Faye woke in the morning she was face-down in the bed, her head turned to one side. She cracked open an eye and saw the bed was empty. The previous evening came back in a rush of images and sensations. Sitting in the bar waiting for Primo to notice her. The strength of the jolt of electricity when he had. And the adrenalin when he’d just walked away from his dinner for her.

She hadn’t been sure what to expect. It was one thing, him surprising her, but she hadn’t known how he’d take her interrupting his work life.

But he hadn’t hesitated.

They’d left the restaurant, which was attached to one of London’s most exclusive hotels, and when they’d walked into the lobby Primo had said, ‘Please tell me you have a room here, or I’ll have to book one right now.’

The hunger in his voice and on his face had almost brought her to her knees there and then. She’d silently pulled a room key out of her bag, and he’d taken her hand and led her straight over to the elevator.

In the elevator, he’d asked roughly, ‘What floor.’

‘The top,’ Faye had answered, breathless. Apparently they weren’t playing any more.

As the lift had ascended Primo had pressed the stop button and said, ‘This is taking too long.’

It had been exactly the same thing she’d been thinking.

In the next second they’d been pressed together, mouths fused, kissing desperately. Primo’s hands had moulded her body to his, finding the slit in the dress, exploring beneath to find the place between her legs where she was embarrassingly ready. She’d gasped into his mouth as he’d stroked his fingers into her, tilting her hips towards him.

She’d climaxed around his fingers, unable to stop herself. She would have drawn back, mortified, but Primo hadn’t let her. He’d taken her hand and put it on him.

‘Feel what you do to me,’ he’d said. He’d rested his forehead against hers. ‘You have a hold over me, Faye...like nothing I’ve ever known before.’

And you over me, she would have said, if she’d been able to speak.

She’d felt a moment of tenderness for him. He’d sounded almost bewildered for a moment. As if he genuinely didn’t understand what was going on.

‘Do you mind that I came?’ she’d asked, before realising the double meaning and burying her face into his shoulder with fresh embarrassment.

He’d chuckled softly and tipped her chin up, not letting her hide. ‘No,’ he’d responded. ‘I absolutely don’t mind. I wonder if I’m dreaming you up.’

Faye had leant forward and nipped at his lower lip. She’d squeezed his firm flesh. ‘I’m real. Make love to me, Primo.’

The air had been so white-hot around them, Faye had wondered how their clothes hadn’t melted off.

Primo had said, ‘Not here.’

He’d pressed the button again, and somehow they’d managed to get to her suite without scandalising the respectable residents of the hotel. And then it had become a heat haze of desperation, and sinking into flesh, and wrapping her legs around Primo’s hips and begging, pleading for release, over and over again, until the dawn had streaked across the sky...

And now...

Faye lifted her head and squinted, and let out a little yelp. It was almost lunchtime. Then she noticed the note on stiff white hotel paper on the pillow.

She picked it up and turned onto her back to read it.

See you in Boston. P (Your husband)

It took Faye a second to realise she had a soppy smile on her face. And, as much as she tried, she couldn’t seem to rearrange her facial muscles.

The notion that Primo had permanently altered something in her very cells was a little disconcerting.

CHAPTER NINE

WHILEFAYEWASwaking up, Primo was already high above the Atlantic Ocean—he had a meeting in Manhattan that evening, and Faye had arranged to meet a client in London before she left. He was still marvelling at the previous evening. It was the hottest thing any woman had ever done to him. Surprising him like that. In that dress. The image of her sitting on that high stool would be burned onto his brain for ever.

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