Page 73 of The Duke and the Temporary Bride

The door to Benedict’s study was closed, indicating that he was inside. Likely working. Ordinarily not a problem, as he was sure to join her for supper anyway. But Selina needed to speak with him beforehand. Shehadto.

I cannot continue to put this off. It must be now, for to keep delaying it will only make things all the harder.

She knocked once and waited for his call.

“Come in.”

It was as she had expected. Benedict was hunched over his desk, a quill flying back and forth across a piece of parchment as he worked hurriedly. Not so long ago, Selina would not have dared disturb him when he was working like that, as he was moody at the best of times and the last thing she wanted was to find herself on the wrong end of that mood.

Now, however, she knew there was nothing to fear.

“Benedict,” she said as she stepped into the study, leaving the door open. “Is now a bad time?”

Benedict looked up and smiled at her. Genuine. Warm and caring. She could see in his eyes that despite his busyness, he was genuinely happy to see her.

“For you, Selina? Such a concept does not exist.”

She rolled her eyes but could not hide her smile as she walked to the desk. And then, once she had reached it, she stepped around it and sat on the edge.

“I just wished to make sure that you’re joining me for supper,” she began with a trace of nerves, not wishing to dive right into the subject she had come here for. “It is still an hour away, but I know how you get.”

He laughed. “You know me better than I thought.”

“I am starting to.” She smirked.

“Yes, yes,” he assured her. “I would not miss it. In fact, I am glad to see you. Your timing could not have been better.”

“I would assume that you are always glad to see me,” she shot back. “Or at least that you should be.”

“Careful now,” he warned her playfully. “My temper is far too short to be manipulated by the likes of you.”

“Manipulated?” She touched her chest as if offended. “I would never.”

He scoffed. “You speak as if I do not know you. An hour before supper. Nothing to do. Wandering the halls aimlessly. Do not think I do not know therealreason you are here.”

She could immediately sense the shift in the room. Benedict leaned back in his chair so that he could better admire her. He lifted one hand and rested it on her thigh, giving it a tight squeeze before he began to stroke it. The look in his eyes was one she knew too well… No need to guess what was on his mind.

And Selina very nearly gave in.

That was what she had been doing these last few days. Whenever she thought of broachingthatsubject, her husband’s impossibly high libido would take over and he’d ravish her, effectively driving all rational thought out of her mind.

And while Selina found him as hard to resist today as she did yesterday as she did the day before that—that hand on her thigh had her loins burning—she suppressed her desire. Now was not the time for debauchery.

For three days now, she had thought hard about what she needed to say. A seemingly simple admission, one that she was nearly certain her husband would be happy to hear. But every time she tried, he would redirect and obfuscate, and the next thing she knew, they’d be on their backs, devouring one another.

Not today.

“There is another reason I am here,” Selina began. She reached down and removed Benedict’s hand from her thigh. “Beyond the need to make sure that you do not miss supper.”

Benedict frowned. “Oh?”

“Yes…” She took a deep breath as she prepared for that which had troubled her for three whole days. “I wanted to start by saying that these past few days have been wonderful.”

Benedict tilted his head and frowned. “They have been.”

“I was worried,” she continued, “that once the Mayfield Ball ended, things between us would be awkward. But as I am sure you have noticed, that is not the case. If anything, it is the complete opposite.”

He chuckled and again rested a hand on her thigh. “Making up for lost time, as it was. Surely, you cannot hold that against me?”

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