Page 29 of The Duke's Sinful Deal
Maxwell did not hesitate. “We will share a bed,” he said. “But not tonight.”
The answer surprised her. She had braced herself for something else. Something immediate. Something unavoidable.
“Not tonight?” she repeated questioningly.
“No,” he said. “You will need time to adjust.”
Arabella blinked, the tension in her shoulders shifting, though it did not fully ease. “I see.”
“We will not act beyond what is necessary,” he continued. “Once a week will suffice.”
The words landed with quiet finality. Arabella stared at him, certain for a moment that she had misunderstood. “Once a week?” she repeated, slower this time.
“Yes.”
The fire crackled softly behind her, the sound too loud in the silence that followed.
“And when…” she began, then faltered slightly before continuing, “when that results in a child?”
“We will live separately,” he said.
The answer came too quickly to have been newly considered.
Arabella’s brows drew together. “Separately?”
“There will be no reason to continue the arrangement beyond that point,” he said. “An heir will have been secured.”
She stared at him, the words settling into something sharper now, something that pricked at her composure in a way she had not anticipated.
“No reason?” she echoed, still questioningly.
Maxwell’s gaze did not shift. “I do not see one.”
Arabella let out a small breath that might have been a laugh, though there was little humor in it. “So… you speak of this… arrangement… as though it were a contract.”
“In effect, it is, Arabella. You and I signed a legal document of marriage.”
She took a step back then, not enough to create distance, but enough that she could draw a fuller breath. “And you believe I have been… enduring you this whole time?” she asked, the edge in her voice no longer concealed.
Maxwell’s expression did not change, though something in his posture sharpened. “Have you not?”
The question struck deeper than she expected.
Arabella straightened, her chin lifting slightly as warmth rose to her cheeks once more, though it was no longer born of embarrassment. “No,” she said, her voice steady now. “I have not in any way… from the first moment we met. As infuriated as I was at you in that moment… never.”
Maxwell watched her silently.
“I have been many things in your presence,” she continued, her fingers uncurling at her sides, “frustrated, perhaps. Annoyed, certainly. But I have not endured you.”
The words hung between them.
Maxwell did not respond immediately, though his gaze held hers in a way that felt different now. Arabella felt her pulse quicken, though she did not look away.
The room seemed smaller again, the fire warmer, the quiet heavier.
“You will find,” she added, softer now but no less firm, “that I am not so easily dismissed.”
Maxwell’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
