Page 64 of Modern Romance Collection February 2025, 1-4
The speed of light.
The speed of Primo.
She was in the luxuriously spacious en suite bathroom of the penthouse suite in one of Manhattan’s oldest and most iconic hotels.
Primo had booked her and her father in, insisting that they stay there rather than travel in and out of the city. A thoughtful gesture. They could have used Faye’s Manhattan apartment, but this was far more convenient and comfortable.
On this same floor there was a function room where guests were already mingling. It was a small crowd. Intimate. Her father, some of their closest friends and their legal team. On Primo’s side he had no family, just his legal team as witnesses.
Faye looked at her reflection in the mirror, feeling as if she was looking at someone else. She was wearing cream high-waisted tailored trousers, wide legged, teamed with a midriff-skimming long-sleeved sheer top overlaid with lace and intricate beading. Her hair was pulled back into a low chignon, and she wore classic pearls and the engagement ring Primo had surprised her with a couple of days after she’d agreed to marry him. A square yellow diamond with smaller triangular white diamonds on each side in a gold setting. It was an antique, from his family vault, and yet it felt surprisingly modern and very elegant. It also fitted snugly, without needing alteration. Something that had unsettled Faye a little—especially as she didn’t consider herself to be remotely superstitious.
Just the previous day she had signed the final legal papers—a marriage agreement setting out the parameters of this union. She’d met with Primo in his offices over a week ago and laid out her terms for a marriage, all of which he’d agreed to—which had taken her by surprise.
Because there, in black and white, she’d made it clear that she would only agree to a marriage if they could review the situation in six months’ time and decide at that point whether to carry on or divorce.
It gave Faye a get-out clause, and she was sure that Primo would want to get out by then too. Because she’d also made it clear that under no circumstances would she consider having children, so at least she could feel that she hadn’t deceived him.
But you didn’t tell him the full truth, pointed out a little voice.
No, she hadn’t divulged the full extent of her infertility.
She had no intention of baring her innermost pain to someone who she hardly knew. After all, she wasn’t planning on this being a long-term union. If Primo was so determined to marry her then this was how she was doing it. Onherterms.
Six months of a marriage between the two families would solidify the business deal between her father and Primo, and give them added protection and security for the future. She’d ensured that there was a clause in the marriage agreement that, in the event of a divorce, it wouldn’t have any detrimental effect on the business deal. And, as little as she knew Primo, he didn’t strike her as a vindictive man.
Faye knew what she was doing was ruthless on some level, but it was no more ruthless than Primo expecting that he could secure himself a convenient wife on the back of a deal. And he’d made it very clear that this marriage had nothing to do with emotions, so there was no danger ofhurtinghim. If anything, divorcing in six months would be an annoyance, but she was sure he could go to number two on his list of potential wives and secure another bride.
And in the meantime you’ll be married to a man you want for the next six months.
Faye flushed at that incendiary thought.
Her mind slipped back to Primo’s offices a week ago. He’d looked at her from across his desk, leaning back in his chair, supremely relaxed. Fingers steepled before him. She’d noticed how masculine his hands were. Short, blunt nails. She’d imagined they’d be slightly calloused. Not soft. Hard. Like the rest of him.
‘So you’re saying that you don’t want to cohabit and that you’ll only agree to us appearing together in public at pre-agreed events?’
She’d nodded, a quiver in her belly, knowing that she must be pushing him to the edges of his patience with her list of requirements for their marriage agreement.
She’d said, ‘I’ve been independent for a long time and I won’t give that up. I’ve also got a busy work schedule, so I simply won’t be available for every public outing. I might not even be in the same country. But I’m sure if an event is important enough, and organised far enough in advance, we can ensure you get what you need out of the arrangement.’
His eyes had flashed at that, sending more than a quiver through Faye.
He’d commented dryly, ‘What I’m getting, by the sounds of it, is a part-time wife.’
He’d stood up then, and walked over to one of his floor-to-ceiling windows. His loose-limbed grace had caught Faye’s eye more than the commanding views of lower Manhattan. The way his shirt pulled across his broad back and shoulders, hinting at the muscles underneath, the narrow waist and the firm buttocks—
He’d turned around to face her and Faye’s face had flamed guiltily.
He’d said, ‘If we don’t live together, and only meet intermittently, then how do you suppose we’ll consummate our marriage? Or will you do me the honour of cohabiting with me on our wedding night? I have every intention of this marriage being a real one, Faye. I don’t sleep around and I’m not unfaithful. And I like sex.’
‘I like sex.’
At that blunt pronouncement, Faye hadn’t been able to stop a slew of images of their limbs entwined from spooling out in her head.
But he’d made it sound so...functional. Like something they’d do that was part of the agreement, to tick a box. He hadn’t alluded to what he’d said before, about there beingsomethingbetween them. Did he know she wanted him and so he didn’t feel the need to feign his own desire any more? She’d felt vulnerable. Exposed.
‘No one needs to know the intimate details of where we’re living. We both have busy lives.’
Primo had stalked back towards his desk and Faye had felt herself tensing against the way her skin prickled with anticipation. He’d perched on the edge of the desk, one strong thigh in Faye’s peripheral vision. It had taken all of her strength and control to keep her gaze up. He’d been striking a dominant pose and yet she hadn’t felt intimidated. She’d felt very keenly that he was curious about her reactions to him.
