He cares about me. All this fury, all this rage, it is a mask he wears because he knows not how to express his feelings as he truly wishes to.

It was thus that she decided not to rise to the bait. Oh, a fight would come, that was inevitable. Now that she was prepared for it, however, she would not waste time pretending that what was going to happen was some sort of accident or mistake.

They had tried to be friends.

They had tried to be civil.

They had tried to ignore their feelings because that had felt like the easy thing to do.

Seeing Benedict come for her just now, saving her as he did, had brought to light something that Selina had been ignoring all this time. Despite the horrid monster that was her husband, regardless of the tempestuous beast who was as terrifying as he was cold, she was beginning to care for this man.

She might have laughed had this not made things infinitely more complex. A quick glance at her husband, however, at his hard-set features and the snarl he wore as he stared dead ahead, and she smirked to herself.

Perhaps it is not so complex, after all.

They would arrive home shortly, where they would fight.

This time, she would give in to her emotions, letting them fly because she knew where that would lead. Where they both needed it to lead.

And after that… well, that she was not so certain of. This marriage was supposed to have an end date. As far as she was concerned, it still did. She was certain that it would be for the best, and she was certain that Benedict was of the same mind.

But if they could not be civil and remain friends until then, where did that lead them? She thought she knew, so much so that she was looking forward to arriving home, for the afternoon promised to befiery.

Chapter Eighteen

Benedict was aware of how dangerous it was to speak with Selina while he was feeling this way. Even the ride home had done little to cool his temper. Thus, he was thankful for a few more minutes to drop off the puppy in the stables and change out of their wet clothes before finally addressing what had just happened.

Or rather, that was what he had thought would happen.

“I will come find you when I am ready.” He strode through the foyer, unwilling to so much as look at his wife. “I suggest that you take your time.”

Up the stairs he went, still not looking back, then down the hallway and toward his room. There, he would take a few short breaths. He would pace and perhaps punch something. Calm was what he needed, a reminder that he could not let his anger get the better of him.

When he walked into his room and turned to close the door, he balked to find her walking in behind him.

“What are you doing?”

“You wish to talk, do you not?” she said simply as she stepped around him and made for the center of the room. “Let us talk.”

“I—” He caught his tongue as he spun about. “Once you have cleaned yourself and are more presentable, we will?—”

“I think now is better.” She turned back to face him, somehow managing to look in complete control of herself. “We both know where this is going to go, so why waste the time?”

Is she serious? Does she want me to shout at her? What on earth is she trying to do?!

“I should warn you,” he began carefully, feeling his anger spike again. “I am none too pleased with you.”

“I know.”

“This will not end well, for either of us.”

“If that is what you think.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, frustrated because now he could see that she was purposefully baiting him. “You wish to do this now? You are certain?”

She raised a daring eyebrow at him. “I have never been more certain of anything.”

His eyes flashed with rage, and he saw a shadow of excitement pass behind her own. “Fine. But remember, you asked for this.”