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Selina rounded on him, still fuming, made worse by the fact that her husband was so darn calm! Still sitting on the bed, still smiling at the way she paced back and forth, his apparent amusement at her anger only made things worse!

“Do you mind not being so nice!” she snapped.

“How would you like me to act?”

“As you always do!” she cried. “Get angry! Shout!”

“At your mother?”

“Maybe!”

“Do not tempt me,” he joked.

“Better that than… than… than this!” She waved her hand at him as if to indicate an imposter in place of her husband.

Benedict sighed as he pushed himself to his feet. She braced herself, certain that he was going to snap at her and tell her to calm down, to not talk to him like that, to treat him with respect! That was what she wanted, for she would not mind a chance to release her stress, and there was one surefire way to do it.

Selina readied herself. Body shaking. Palms sweating. Heart racing. He would start on her, she would bite back, and then he would take her in his arms, and they would revert to their most base desires.

“Your mother was acting the way she was tonight because she wanted to make sure that we are not pulling the wool over her eyes, that is all,” he said calmly.

“Excuse me?” She blinked, taken aback.

“What does it matter if she asks me for a favor? Frankly, we should take it as a good sign. It means that she believes that this marriage is a happy one, does it not? And was that not the entire purpose of inviting her here?”

“I… I guess so.”

He smiled as he took her hand. Gently, though. And then, with great care, he led her toward the bed. Often, or always, he dragged her to the bed. There, he would toss her down and have his way with her. But this time… there was none of that.

He sat down and pulled her onto his lap. It was a strange feeling, made more so by how nice it felt. It didn’t feel as forced or as awkward as she would have assumed.

“Today has been a success,” Benedict continued gently. “And for that, we should be glad. It means the ball next week will not be the trial we thought it might be.”

She laughed softly. “You were a rather excellent actor, I must admit.”

“As were you,” he said. “Who would have guessed that we, in fact, hate one another?”

She chuckled softly, ignoring the strange stabbing pain in her chest at his words. “Certainly not my mother or sisters. I think they are actually quite jealous of me.”

“As I know Edmund will be of me when he meets you. Well… when he meets you again.” He laughed, and she laughed too.

For a moment, nothing was said because nothing needed to be said. Sitting on his lap, Selina gazed upon her husband in a way she realized she never had before. At least not intentionally.

For these past few days, ever since he had rescued her, they had not dared to speak this softly to one another. Truthfully, they had not wanted to. They had decided that their relationship could only survive through sexual encounters—a means of keeping them together until this marriage came to its agreed-upon end.

It was a perfect solution. It was a fun solution. It was what both of them wanted, as neither saw the other as a romantic option, for surely that was impossible to comprehend! Only…

After how wonderfully today had gone, Selina was beginning to see another side of her husband and, indeed, their relationship. The way they had been able to treat one another civilly without needing to fight. How much they had enjoyed each other’s company, as more than just friends.

It was, in every sense, a real marriage.

Could I be falling for him? No… it must be my mind playing tricks on me after having to pretend all day.

“Now, I do not know about you, but I am rather tired,” Benedict sighed, and his body sagged.

“Me too,” she said, suddenly feeling weary.

“It might be unorthodox of us, but would you consider skipping our pre-bed ritual and simply going to sleep? As ghastly as that sounds?”