Page 30 of The Duke and the Unwanted Bride

“Not too tired, I hope…” She was staring right at him, the faintest smirk on her lips, and Frederick very nearly balked because the implication was all too clear. “I am hoping for a tour of your home when we arrive later on.”

“Oh, yes, I am sure that will be fine.”

“Wonderful. I had worried what it might be like to move into a new home. Feeling like a stranger and everything.” She laughed. “But I know that with you, that will not be a problem.”

She reached over and stroked his arm. Frederick ignored it the best he could, and also ignored the coy smile she wore, knowing all too well that she was baiting him.

“I will endeavor to make you as comfortable as possible.”

“I look forward to it.”

“As do I.”

“Personally, I am looking forward to where we left things off the last time we spoke alone,” she murmured.

Frederick met her gaze but was careful not to be sucked into it. “As am I. What we spoke about, it is my thinking now that a reminder might be needed.”

“What we spoke about?” She pretended to consider. “Oh!” Her eyes went wide. “Yes, I had nearly forgotten. I was referring to the end of the conversation. I cannot help but feel there was much left wanting.”

“Unsaid is perhaps a more accurate description.”

“Either way…” She stroked his arm again. “I look forward to it.”

“As do I.”

Stiff. Awkward. Highly suggestive. Hannah continued to look at Frederick, and Frederick looked away. But it was becoming more and more difficult to do so. Anyone listening to their first conversation as man and wife would not have to work too hard to discern the underlying meaning.

Hannah either wanted him or took far too much pleasure in teasing him. But it did not really matter. Frederick understood now more than ever that if he was going to get through this marriage, he was going to have to set boundaries—remind her what he had explained two weeks ago, and make sure she understood that he was not to be tested like this.

Because if he did not, and if she continued to tease him like this, another glance at the swell of her breasts and shoulders… her plump lips… and Frederick knew that he would only be able to control himself for so long.

He was, after all, only human.

Chapter Nine

The carriage ride home went exactly as Hannah had expected—mostly silent. Frederick spent the entirety of it sitting across from her, staring out the window. Oh, she had tried to speak with him, of course, but he had rebuffed her in a way he wouldn’t have dared if they weren’t alone.

“I never had a chance to ask you earlier,” she began once the carriage took off, their next stop being Thorne Estate—her new home. “What do you think of my dress?”

Frederick, still staring out the window, stiffened. But he did not turn back to look at her. His jaw ticked, and his hands clenched in his lap.

“My mother and father did not like it…” She purposefully shuffled forward, pushing her chest out and running a hand lightly down her front. “I cannot imagine why. Can you?”

“I know what you are doing,” he said, still not looking at her. “And I will not fall for it.”

“Doing?” she asked innocently. “I have no idea what you?—”

“Stop it,” he snapped. “Just stop it.”

Finally, he forced himself to look at her—but her eyes only, holding them with a sense of frustration, not once looking down at her low neckline.

“When we spoke two weeks ago, I had hoped that we’d come to an understanding. And that you had accepted it—that you had made your peace with it.”

She frowned and tilted her head. “You may have to elaborate, for I do not know at all what you?—”

“You will not bait me,” he said warningly. “As I explained—and I will explain one more time so that there is no misunderstanding—what we have here is a marriage of convenience only, in which there is no expectation for…” He swallowed. “For copulation. What I had hoped for was that we could still be friendly, that we might find some sort of middle ground so that this marriage is not an awkward, unlivable situation. But if you insist on behaving this way…” He shook his head and turned back to look out the window.

That little outburst might have upset Hannah, if she hadn’t been expecting it. What was more, the words were not what she choseto focus on. Rather, it was that look in her husband’s eyes that told her his true feelings. His refusal to look at her properly. His hunger for her. His self-loathing because he feared what might happen if she continued to ‘bait’ him, as he put it.

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