Page 21 of The Duke and the Temporary Bride

“Marriage is never easy but always worth the effort,” he added sagely.

It was a truth that she did not wish to hear. Growing up, she had pictured marriage as a perfect union between two people who loved one another beyond reason. Not something to be worked on, but to be enjoyed and basked in, for what could be better than spending the rest of your life with the person you love?

She did not want this marriage. Given the chance, she would leave and never look back. Sadly, she knew that wasn’t an option.

It was thus that Selina came to a decision. Now that she was here, now that the marriage was set in stone, she wasn’t going to shy away from her husband, avoid him, or try and agitate him as she was so adept at doing. Rather, she promised to do everything she could to make this marriage work.

What choice do I have? None is the answer.

It might not have been a love match, but that did not mean she could not be happy. And surely, Benedict wanted the same thing? How could he not?

Chapter Seven

Selina was beginning to get frustrated. And angry! Although she told herself that anger would not do and what she needed was calm and patience… and perhaps a little bit of anger, just because a person could only be so calm and so patient before they snapped.

Her husband was avoiding her. Easy to do in a manor of this size.

On her first night, she was not surprised to find that she had been assigned a separate room. After what had happened in the carriage, she hoped that perhaps he just needed a night to cool off, and the following morning they could begin fixing their relationship.

She did not see him the following morning. Nor did she see him throughout the day. And she certainly did not see him that evening.

The second night was much the same, only more frustrating because Selina knew that her husband slept just down the hall. Why was he avoiding her? Did he really mean to never speak with her again?

The thought of that was insane!

And the next day, once again, she did not hear so much as a word of his presence. She even checked to make sure he was still in the ginormous manor, confirmed but not told exactly where.

By the time the third night came to a close and Selina had to once again consider retiring to bed on her own, she realized that she needed to act. So, her husband did not want to see her? Fine! She would simply go see him.

We need to talk. More than that, we need to come to some sort of agreement. We cannot go on like this. I will not allow it!

And so it was late that night, when the house fell quiet and the servants began to retire to their rooms, that she snuck out of her chamber and started down the hallway carefully and slowly. Her heart hammered in her chest as she thought about what she was going to do. And her mind raced with possibilities—some scary, some satisfying, some… Well, best not to go there.

She reached Benedict’s bedroom door and paused. Quickly fixed her hair and straightened her nightgown. Made sure she was not flushed and, most importantly, not angry.

And then, with nothing else for it, she popped open the door and stepped inside. By the time she came out, she was certain that their marriage would finally be on track.

It was not as if things could get any worse!

“What do you think you are doing?” Benedict leaped from his bed as the door flew open and Selina stormed inside.

“We must talk.”

“You need to knock!”

He was shirtless, and this gave Selina pause. His body was a mass of corded muscle. A smattering of hair across his chest, tight lines running down his front, and veins snaking their way toward?—

Selina tore her eyes away, determined not to go down that path!

“Shall I walk outside again and knock?” She put her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow at him. “However, I do not see the point, seeing as I am here now.”

“This is highly inappropriate,” he snapped.

“Inappropriate. Ha!” She laughed. “What is inappropriate is you avoiding me for the past couple of days. As far as I am concerned, this room is technically mine, so what need is there to knock?”

“That is not?—”

“And do not tell me that I have my own room either,” she spoke over him, the words flowing unrestrained. She’d had three days to mull over them, after all. “As if that is some sort of winning argument. That is the entire point!”

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