Page 16 of The Duke and the Temporary Bride

The scars on his face ran down the entirety of his back, covering it in a way that had his skin looking like worn leather, beaten and carved—hideous, to say the least. But he was so broad-shouldered and muscular that somehow it did not make him appear disfigured. If anything, it only added to his rugged charm.

“What is it?” He looked over his shoulder and scowled.

“N-Nothing,” she said, her voice dropping as she looked away.

He nodded in approval and then climbed into bed. She stayed by the door a moment longer, hesitating because she still did not know what she wanted from him. Or most importantly, what he wanted from her.

“Are you coming to bed?” his voice spoke through the darkness.

“Oh. Sorry. Yes.” She closed the door and crossed the room. When she reached the bed, she hesitated again.

He slept on the opposite side, his back already turned to her. Body curled in on itself, he gave no indication that once she climbed in, he might take her.

Good. He realizes that I do not want anything to do with him.

Easy words to say. Harder words to believe.

She carefully climbed into bed, keeping to her side as she slipped under the blankets. A solid foot separated the two of them, and in the darkness, all she could make out was his hulking mass.

For a moment, she lay there, half expecting him to turn to her suddenly and take her. She braced herself, ready to push him away if he dared to try…

Only, he did no such thing. His breathing was slow and steady, not indicating that he meant to move. This was, or should have been, a relief, but why did it not feel that way?

Feeling frustrated, and a little uncomfortable, she shifted in bed as if to get his attention. Still, she could not find comfort, so she pulled up the blankets, stretched out her legs, and shifted again by turning her back on him. With her back to him, she felt exposed and unaware, a sense that she needed to keep her eyes on him all the time.

She turned back around and frowned to see that he had not moved an inch.

Her pillow felt stiff, so she went on one elbow and fluffed it, fell back down, and huffed because she was now running warm. Her eyes flicked to Benedict’s back again, and she frowned at his lack of movement. She told herself it was good, only to kick out her legs because the blanket felt suffocating?—

“Will you please stop fidgeting?” Benedict growled suddenly. “I am trying to sleep.”

“Oh.” Her eyes went wide, and she braced for him to turn to her. “I thought you were asleep already.”

“How could I be, with you moving like a cat in a potato sack?”

“I am just trying to make myself comfortable. I did not know I was disturbing your precious slumber so.” She saw him stiffen at the jibe, and her heart began to race.

“I am beginning to regret not asking for separate rooms.”

“As am I.”

He chuckled deeply, and she could not help but smile.

She waited for him to say something, but silence followed his short bout of laughter. She frowned to herself, feeling a need to speak because as strange as it was, this felt like the first civil conversation they’d ever had.

“I suppose that once we arrive at your estate, we will have separate rooms?”

He paused before responding, and Selina felt herself begin to sweat. “Would that please you?”

“Oh.” Her heart raced as she searched for an answer… the right answer, even if she did not know what that might be. “I am not sure—I mean, we are expected to share a room. Yes?”

“So, you wish to share a room with me.”

“Only if it is necessary,” she said quickly. “I do not want to presume anything—I mean, we can discuss it later.”

“As you wish.”

Silence again. By now, Selina’s heart was racing, her mind was whirring, and she knew that sleep would be impossible. Unable to stop thinking about what was just said, she replayed it over in her mind, wondering what she had meant. And what he had meant.

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