Page 77 of Wedded to the Duke of Seduction

“You looked over your shoulder when you approached the carriage,” Leo interrupted, his expression serious. “Thomas noticed your concern.”

Heat rose to Marina’s cheeks. She hadn’t realized the footman had observed her moment of paranoia.

“It was nothing. A strange feeling, that’s all.”

Leo’s hand covered hers where it rested on his arm. His touch was warm and reassuring.

“Even strange feelings can have meaning. I do not wish to see you harmed, Marina.”

The simple declaration touched her more deeply than his most passionate endearments.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “But I can look after myself. I have been doing so for some time.”

“I do not doubt your capability,” Leo replied. “But you are no longer alone. As your husband, your safety concerns me.”

Marina felt a flicker of irritation despite the warmth his words provoked.

“You cannot decide to act the devoted husband only when it pleases you, Leo. That is not how marriage works.”

He paused, turning to face her fully. “You think I can choose this? That I have control where you are concerned?” His voice held a raw edge she had never heard before. “Perhaps you are better at maintaining control than I am, but I can see you’re as desperate as I am whenever we’re close.”

The accusation stung precisely because it contained too much truth. Since their night together, Marina had found herself increasingly preoccupied with thoughts of Leo—not just histouch but his smile, his rare moments of vulnerability, the way his eyes softened when he looked at her when he thought she wouldn’t notice.

“This is about physical desire,” she countered, deflecting from the uncomfortable truth. “Nothing more. Perhaps you simply want more from me than I am prepared to give.”

Leo stepped closer, his eyes intent on hers. “And what do you think I want, Marina?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, suddenly uncertain. “What do you want?”

For a long moment, Leo merely looked at her, something complicated and unfamiliar moving in his eyes. Then he released a slow breath.

“More than I expected to,” he said quietly. “More than I have wanted from anyone in a very long time.”

The simple honesty in his words left Marina without a ready response. Before she could formulate one, Leo reached out to brush a loose curl from her cheek, his touch achingly gentle.

“Don’t be afraid of me, Marina,” he whispered. “Despite our differences, I would never intentionally hurt you.”

Marina wanted to believe him. More than that, she wanted to lean into his touch, to accept the comfort and protection heoffered. But years of self-reliance held her back, whispering that dependence on a man, any man, was the quickest path to heartbreak.

“I should go to bed,” she said finally, stepping away from his touch. “It’s growing late.”

Leo nodded, his expression shuttering slightly. “Of course. Shall I walk you inside?”

“No, I think I shall remain here a while longer.” Marina needed space to think, to process the confusion of emotions his words had stirred. “The air is refreshing after being in the city.”

“As you wish.” Leo bowed formally then hesitated. “And, about what you felt earlier… trust your instincts. If something seems wrong, it probably is.”

With that parting advice, he turned and walked back toward the house, leaving Marina alone with the moonlight and her troubled thoughts.

Leo paused in the shadows of the terrace and watched Marina’s solitary figure among the moonlit roses. The protective instinct that had surged through him when Thomas mentioned her unusual behavior hadn’t diminished, despite her dismissal of his concerns.

Something had unsettled her tonight. Something she wasn’t willing to share with him. The realization stung more than he cared to admit.

For all their physical intimacy, for all the progress he had made in breaking down her defenses, Marina still didn’t trust him with her fears.

As he watched her delicate fingers trace the petals of a white rose, her face contemplative in the moonlight, Leo felt something shift inside him—a feeling that went beyond desire or possessiveness.

It was softer, deeper, more vulnerable than anything he had allowed himself to feel in years.

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