Part Fifty-Three

There were definite perks to being engaged to a wealthy man like Stefan Cassadine. Faith Ward leaned into the mirror and gracefully applied her signature lipstick. The cosmetics division that had been added to Cassadine Pharmaceuticals for her convenience was just one of them.

“I am sorry that I was unable to persuade you to share my morning ride.” The object of Faith’s thoughts emerged from the bathroom, plush white towel wrapped dangerously low about his hips.

Faith flashed her fiancé a wicked smile. “Oh, I have ridden – and been ridden – enough this morning.”


“Indeed.” Faith lazily rose and crossed the room. She made sure Stefan had an unobstructed view of the sway of her hips. “I suppose I could be persuaded otherwise.”

Stefan raised a finely groomed brow. “Were you not preparing for a day at Ward Software?”

“What’s the matter?” Faith taunted. “Are you afraid your…” she raised an identical brow, “powers of persuasion are not up to the task?”

The taunt was barely past her lips when Faith felt Stefan’s presence behind her. She turned and was swiftly wrapped up in his arms. “Your challenge is accepted,” he rasped.

Gazes locked, Stefan maneuvered Faith down onto the bed. His eyes darkened as he felt her warm fingers slip beneath the Egyptian cotton towel to tease his hardening flesh.

“I am tempted not to interrupt,” the amused voice of Prince Stavros Cassadine drawled from the seldom-used passageway in the far corner of the room. “Your fumbling efforts would be amusing, little brother.”

Faith unwrapped a shapely leg from about Stefan’s waist and quietly withdrew her fingers from their intimate task. She had no desire to provide Stavros with kindling to fuel the simmering anger she felt in the taut muscles of Stefan’s body.

“Have you forgotten what it means to knock, Stavros?” Stefan deftly secured the towel back around his waist. He rolled off Faith, placing his body between her and Stavros’ line of vision. Thankfully, Faith was still clad in the two tiny scraps of silk lingerie intended for his eyes only.

Stavros ignored his younger brother’s pointed barb. “Be grateful, Stefan, that my appreciation of my new sister’s nearly naked body outweighs my irritation with you.” He grinned broadly at the angry reaction that Stefan tried to smother. “Enough amusement,” Stavros said. “I have decided that you and Faith are to be wed in three weeks time. On my instructions, the preparations have begun in Greece.”

Faith stepped around Stefan. “Stavros…” she attempted.

“It has been decided.” All interest in the conversation was lost for the mercurial prince. Without ceremony, Stavros stepped back into the passageway and left.