Page 39 of The Duke and the Temporary Bride

Thathad him looking at her.

The scars on his face twitched as he frowned in confusion, as if he had misheard her. “What do you mean?”

“It is no secret that this marriage is strange, for want of a better word.”

He laughed. “Strange, indeed.”

“And since the first day we met, there has been a tension hovering between the two of us that we have both resoundingly ignored. We would fight, and it would grow. We would fight further, and it would threaten to explode.”

He scoffed. “I think it just did.”

“That is my point,” she continued with a smile. “The way we have been treating one another—even these last five days, pretending that the other does not exist. This was bound to happen because we have not done the one thing that all married couples should do.”

“Were you not here for what just happened?” he joked.

She looked at him flatly. “Talk is my meaning. Fighting is not talking, and it is no wonder that every time we do try and have a conversation, it devolves into an argument.”

“You do have a way about you.”

“As do you.” She raised an eyebrow at him, and he chuckled. “I do not regret what just happened.”Oh, how I do not.“But what I do not want is for us to go back to the way that things were. For the time being, we are man and wife, and I think it would be for the best if we started to act like it.”

He pushed himself onto his elbow. “For the time being?”

She blinked. “Well… yes. My meaning is?—”

“The two-month ultimatum?” he spoke over her quickly. “You still wish for it?”

“Oh.” She had not thought of that. Not really, anyhow. “Yes,” she said slowly, searching his eyes to see what he might want. If he had changed his mind, even if she was not entirely certain that she wanted him to. “I think so.”

“Good,” he uttered quickly. “As do I.”

He met her eyes and looked right at her, as if he was daring her to question him.

“Wonderful,” she said, holding his stare, reflecting that same sense of determination… even if she was not feeling it as strongly as she had last week. “But that does not mean things have to remain as they are. Until that time comes, I would rather we remain civil to one another. Surely, we can manage that?”

“You mean a truce?” he asked dryly.

She rolled her eyes. “One that you stick to this time.”

He laughed. “Better that than having to put up with any more of your flute lessons.”

She laughed softly. “I do not want to spend the next two months fighting. And I am sure that you do not want that either.”

He did not answer right away. His brow furrowed as he considered what she said, likely mulling over its larger implications.

If they were going to go their separate ways in two months, what just happened could not happen again. As wonderful as it was, it was also dangerous because she sensed that any more of what just happened and feelings might develop—which she did not want, and nor did Benedict, she was certain.

Best that they stick to their original plan. That meant no fighting. That meant civility. That meant being able to be in the same room as one another without turning into rabid beasts with less self-control than animals in heat.

“Are you suggesting that we be friends?” Benedict asked after some time.

“Oh.” She blinked. “Yes… I suppose I am. If that is fine with you?”

A strange question, seeing as they were lying naked together, having just made ravenous love that reached such levels of excessive debauchery that Selina did not know how she was going to look the staff in the eyes without blushing.

But it was the right thing to do. It had to be. If this marriage had an end date, what point was there in doing this again?

“I think it is a most valid point and an even better idea,” Benedict said.

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