Page 118 of How to Love a Duke in Ten Days

He caught both of her trembling hands in his, engulfing them in familiar, rough-skinned warmth. “Leave it, wife,” he crooned gently. “You needn’t upset yourself over me. Take a few deep breaths to calm yourself.”

At that, she surged to her feet, wrenching her hands away from his as she fought to fill her lungs fast enough. “Iamcalm,” she declared. “I’m the veryessenceof calm. If I were any calmer, I’d be asleep!”

Even though he was sitting, he didn’t have to reach up very far to place his palms on either side of her face. “I understand, Alexandra. Being spared a terrible death can set anyone’s nerves on edge—”

She made a sound of immense frustration at his condescending tone. “That isn’t it. I’ve been nearly missed by death before.”

“Then…” He frowned, the puzzled lines in his forehead creating cracks in the mud drying there. “I was able to save the bones, you needn’t worry that you lost—”

“I thought I’d lostyou,you enormous Neanderthal!” She knew she sounded shrill, but at this point, she was beyond caring. “Hang the bones! Must youinsiston hefting the largest box? Upon turning everything into a competition? You could have left it for… for tomorrow… You could have escorted me out. You… You… You could have died!”

Dammit, sobs crawled up from her chest and crowded her throat, demanding every part of self-control she had left to grapple them back down again.

“Come now,” he soothed with a crooked smirk, rubbing a thumb over her cheek. “Would that really have been so bad? You’d be a wealthy widow. Your problems would have been solved.”

Alexandra’s hand lashed out and connected with his cheek before she’d realized what she’d done.

In the stunned silence that followed, she seized his face and kissed him brutally. Crushing her mouth to his with enough force to feel his teeth. Hard enough forhimto feel her rage and taste her terror.

That done, she slapped him again.

Never in the recorded history of mankind had twenty men been so utterly quiet and still for so long.

Redmayne stared at her, stone-faced and eyes glinting. With what, she couldn’t tell.

For once in her life, she didn’t care.

Then, her husband did something she’d never seen him do before.

He grinned.

CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO

It occurred to Piers that he should stay at the dig site. That he should investigate. Especially since no one seemed to be that suspicious. Old caves collapsed all the time; the men shrugged. Perhaps the fortifications hadn’t been as sound as everyone had thought.

What utter. Fucking. Horseshit.

He’d seen to the fortifications, himself. Thousand-year-old cathedrals had less structural integrity.

No. Something had happened. He’d heard it, right before the ceiling had caved in, a different sound had warned him to jump away just in time. Some sort of hiss, and crackle, preceded a pop before the rocks had begun to fall.

Not an explosion, but he suspected gunpowder or a similar agent.

The structural engineer wouldn’t return from Le Havre until tomorrow, and it would be folly to attempt to return inside the catacombs without him.

Besides, it would take a miracle to peel him from Alexandra’s side.

Now that she might be in danger.

Now that the dynamic had shifted between them. Their bonds strengthened.

“Your wife, she loves you.” A medic named Giuseppe had clapped him on the back after washing, stitching, and bandaging his wound. Which hadn’t been as shallow as he’d thought, nor as deep asshe’dfeared.

Piers hadn’t wanted to argue with the man.

His wife didn’t love him. She couldn’t. Not only after a few short days.

But she cared. She cared more than he’d expected her to.