Page 72 of The Duke and the Temporary Bride

“This is not about that.”

“Oh?”

“No.” She laughed softly. “I just want to dance, is all. More than that, I want to dance with you.”

If it was anybody else, he would have said no. If it was last week, he still would have. But that look she gave him, how soft her hand felt around his, the hold that she had over him that was unlike any he had known before…

Benedict felt as if he was trapped in a spell of sorts, one he had no desire to break.

“As you wish,” he relented. “But be warned, I might embarrass you.”

“You?” Her eyes twinkled. “Impossible.”

She led him toward the dance floor. Benedict thought that he would feel nervous as he walked. And he was certain he would give himself away when he took to the center of the dance floor—sweating, shaking, cursing because he hated the very idea of such a thing as dancing! But strangely, there was none of that.

Those in the room did not matter. He and Selina might have been the only two people there, for how he felt. They stepped onto the dance floor, he took her hand and rested his other on her waist, looked into her eyes, and the entire world melted away as if it did not exist.

“I have enjoyed tonight,” she said softly, earnestly. No sense that this was part of the act.

“As have I.”

“More than I thought I would.”

He smiled. “You took the words out of my mouth.”

“I…” She hesitated and then let out a light chuckle. “I do not wish for it to end.”

“Perhaps you will get lucky, and this dance will go on forever.”

“I hope so.” It sounded as if she meant it too.

The music started, and the two began to waltz.

Perhaps people were watching them? Perhaps people were talking about them? Judging Benedict’s poor dancing skills? Perhaps they were, but Benedict did not notice, nor did he care.

They had spent several days pretending to be in love. Tonight, too, they had done well to fool the ton so that anyone watching might think that they were as happy as a newlywed couple could be. It was all an act, a performance, a show to trick and blind the world to the reality of their marriage.

Benedict had spent this last week convincing himself of that.

His entire life, in fact, he had resigned himself to living alone because men like him did not fall in love and live happily ever after. And he still believed this to be the case. He stillneededit to be. Only now, with how Selina felt in his arms as they danced, that look in her eyes, and the beating of his heart, he began to fear the worst.

Could there be more here than what I have allowed myself to believe?

Benedict was not even certain of what that might mean. Did that mean that he should ask her not to leave come one month? Did that mean that he was falling for her in ways he had previously thought impossible?

No. Certainly not.

It was all very confusing. It was the last thing he wished to think about—what he should have been thinking about instead was getting Selina home so that he could tear her clothes off her body and devour her like a starving wolf that had come across a fresh carcass. That was what he wanted! That was all he should want.

It was thus that as they danced, Benedict reminded himself of who he was and what this marriage was supposed to be. For tonight, he would give Selina the love and the romance and the passion, because that had been the plan. But tomorrow, he was determined to go back to the way things had been.

Just that thought… it settled like a boulder in his stomach, and he nearly stumbled and lost his footing. But Selina was there to guide him, and the smile on her lips made his heart flutter in ways that he did not care for… or so he told himself.

Suddenly, this marriage had become something that Benedict had not seen coming, something that felt all too real.

That, he decided, would need to change.

Chapter Twenty-Five