Page 39 of The Duke’s Return (Dukes of the Compass Rose #2)

A giggle broke free from Genevieve first, and he quickly joined in with laughter. More fireworks zoomed into the sky. They no longer jumped, but instead joined the crowd to enjoy the stunning display.

It made for an eventful evening. Eventually, they returned inside where Genevieve and Julian took a few turns dancing with other parties before joining the hosted supper.

Whenever they were apart, he ensured he was close enough to keep an eye on her.

Not because he worried for her safety but because he didn’t want to be far away from her.

This realization unsettled him even as he did his best to ignore it.

I have never needed anyone before. This lifetime is too short to feel the need to have anyone in my life. And yet this pull I feel toward her is unlike anything I have ever felt for another. It is as though I need her to breathe. Fortunate is not a word for this. I am beyond blessed, I am cursed.

Dawn was nearly breaking by the time they reached their carriage for the short ride home. Neither of them said a word. There was an energy current streaming between the two of them that could not be denied. Nor, it seemed, could it be acknowledged.

He didn’t know what he would say if he could.

Taking turns stealing glances at once another, small smiles slipped across their faces.

The carriage felt toasty warm as though they sat inside a fireplace with one another.

He danced his fingers on his knee, resisting the urge to go to her.

To take her into his arms. Resisting her made his entire body ache.

His foot slid against hers and she stiffened, glancing his way, and then glancing down at his smile. Then Genevieve returned her gaze to looking outside until they reached home.

He helped her down from the carriage where their fingers lingered intertwined for a minute before Mrs. Waverly was ushering them inside.

“Thank you,” Julian murmured, his throat thick. “I forgot my hat in the carriage. Can you fetch it?”

The housekeeper nodded. “Certainly.”

Everyone else was abed, leaving just him and his wife in the dimly lit foyer. The carriage was already being moved, so the housekeeper hastened to collect it. Julian felt an ounce of guilt before he looked back to Genevieve.

Her lips were parted like she was about to speak, but no sound came out. Their eyes met as the world tilted, and he crashed into her.

“I don’t deserve this,” he muttered even as he took his wife in his arms, no longer to hold back any longer.

“Don’t we?” she breathed just before their lips clashed.

The first kiss wasn’t polite nor careful. It was a beautiful mess of sensation and passion. Genevieve didn’t fight it, much to his relief, and eagerly devoured him in return while clutching at his cravat. Not that he minded. Air no longer felt necessary so long as they were this close.

His chest heaved for his heart was finally breaking free of its cage.

This was everything he had dreamt of and desired, everything he had denied and ignored.

The endless banter and wild emotions and stolen glances had all led to this moment.

Julian wanted this to last forever. Never had a kiss given so much to him and demanded so much from him.

He clung to Genevieve, relieved and enthralled he had finally given up the fight for this kiss.

And then in the next breath, she pulled away.

Gasping, Genevieve leaned back to look at him while heaving for breath. Those gray eyes of hers glittered like the endless night sky. He wanted to spend forever there.

“That was… You… I never thought….” She struggled to come up with words. Each of them impressed him since he couldn’t remember how to speak just then. When she licked her bruised lips, his gaze followed every move. “Julian?”

“Mm?”

He didn’t realize he was leaning in again until her grasp on him shifted into a flat palm against his shoulder. It kept him at bay and he froze. He didn’t loosen his hands just yet in the hopes this was a mistake. That she wasn’t going to turn him away. Surely, she couldn’t, after that kiss.

But then she asked him, “What does this mean for us?”

Starry skies and intertwined hands and gentle lips had consumed him then, leaving him to dally in the present. It threatened to steal everything away from him until Genevieve asked about the future.

The silver in her eyes was hope. That curl of her lips was a different type of desire than he had assumed.

What does this mean? It means we are deceivingly compatible, that desire is possible even in a marriage.

That we could even like each other on occasion.

What more could it mean? What future does she think this creates?

I don’t think it means anything more. Does it?

What else could she think it would mean in this situation?

Such evidence of hope in her made Julian hesitate. He always had an answer planned for the previous women in his life, but none of them had ever been a wife.

This wasn’t a question he knew how to answer, and in that, he managed to shatter everything they had just built up.

Memories of his parents flashed before his eyes.

The unhappy unions amongst the ton. The misery he knew awaited him in marriage should he spend too much time with the woman he married.

Maybe it wasn’t a problem now, but there was always the future.

The horrible, dreadful future. He feared it more than he cared for anything else.

So he loosened his grip. “Well done, Genevieve. It means we could have some fun if we can kiss like that. What a sweet illusion for a perfect evening, don’t you think? If only we had made it a show for everyone.”

His own words made him flinch.

She stepped back and he balled his hands into fists so he wouldn’t reach out for her. Darkness and defeat flickered over her features. “That’s it?”

A shaky laugh escaped Julian. “What do you think it means?”

A mistake. It was a mistake. All of this was a mistake. Everything I do is a mistake.

“Unbelievable. You, sir, are nothing more than a coward,” Genevieve pronounced with bitterness that made him want to shrivel.

“I used to think you tried to ruin things, but perhaps it comes naturally to you. Do you refuse to feel anything real? Is your entire life nothing but a performance to everyone, including your wife?”

He accepted each insult, swallowing them up and taking deep breaths. Pausing to fix the cuffs, he collected himself enough to speak calmly and coldly as possible.

“I think that hardly concerns you, Duchess. This marriage was always a shell, a performance for everyone. It was never meant to become anything else, nor anything more. We had a deal. Just because you are letting this get to your head, it doesn’t mean anything changes.”

Never had she looked more furious to him. A beautiful and tragically dangerous woman. But he straightened his shoulders to meet her gaze, telling them both he could not be harmed. He would not be affected. Because that would mean something had to change here, and he wasn’t ready for that.

Her hands balled into fists like she wished to punch him. Part of Julian wished she would.

Instead, she walked away.

Left in the foyer, Julian sucked in a deep breath and turned away. Catching sight of himself in a mirror, he flinched and dropped his gaze. It wasn’t right, he knew, but it was what had to be done.

We would have despised each other soon enough. I’m only saving her heartache. Besides, I’ll be gone soon. Then it will be like none of this ever happened.