Page 78 of His Tempting Duchess

“She does not want love from me,” Cassian hissed. “And I do not want it from her!”

Richard regarded him steadily. “Nobody believes that,” he said, “least of all you.”

While Cassian was deciding what to say, Richard rose to his feet.

“If you won’t dance with your bride, Cassian, I will,” he muttered quietly. “Excuse me.”

Cassian was about to tell his cousin that he did not care who Richard danced with, any more than he cared who his wife danced with.

He stopped himself just in time, thankfully. There was a fairly good chance that Lady St. Maur would stab him with a butter knife if he said such a thing.

He sat back mulishly in his seat and watched Richard cross the room. He paused in front of Emily, executing a neat bow. He said something, and she laughed, her smile growing a little more sincere.

They had a brief exchange, and Richard gestured to the dance floor. Emily glanced over at Cassian, just for an instant. Then, she nodded, accepting Richard’s hand and getting to her feet.

The two of them crossed to the dance floor. It was the cue for other couples to join, although most of them looked rather surprised to see the groom’s cousin dancing with the bride. Still, it was not the first time somebody other than the groom had danced with the bride on a wedding day, and it wasn’t as if anybody would dare to mention anything to Cassian.

The first dance was a waltz. Richard said something else to make Emily laugh, stepping close to her. He placed his hand on her waist and took her hand in his other one.

Cassian fingers curled into fists.

The music began, and Richard and Emily began to move across the dance floor. They continued talking, and Emily laughed again.

Richard was a good dancer, very graceful. They moved easily and well together.

Something stirred inside Cassian—something hot and angry. Jealousy, that was it. The ugliest of emotions.

He clenched his jaw, glancing away.

Emily laughed loudly, the sound carrying across the room.

Oh, the wretched woman. Curse you, Richard.

Cassian jumped to his feet and crossed the room. He cut neatly between the dancing couples, approaching Richard and Emily. They stopped spinning, both glancing inquisitively up at him.

“What is it, Cass?” Richard asked innocently. “Did you wish to cut in? It’s a little unorthodox, but itisyour wedding day, and thisisyour bride.”

Cassian glowered at him. “No. In fact, I would like a word with my bride.”

Emily narrowed her eyes. “What’s the matter, husband? Are you angry?”

Cassian let out a long, slow breath, seizing her hand in his. “No, I am not angry. But you and I have to discuss our duties.”

He pulled her away from the dance floor and through a narrow doorway into the dark hallway beyond.

CHAPTER24

Emily found herself a little shaken, stumbling after Cassian. After the bright lights of the ballroom, she squinted in the gloomy hallway. At last, she managed to wrench her wrist out of his grasp.

“Wherearewe going?” she demanded. “Why won’t you tell me what is going on? You are starting to worry me, Cassian.”

He heaved a short, frustrated sigh and kept walking. Emily bit her lip, scurrying after him. She wasn’t afraid, of course. Perhaps she ought to be—he was a stern, volatile man, with an air of mystery about him. She scarcely knew him.

And yet Emily already knew the feel of his hands on her most intimate places. She knew how his lips tasted and how soft they were. She’d breathed in the sharp scent of his cologne, her arms wrapped around his shoulders.

Swallowing hard, she put those thoughts aside.

“Are you angry that I danced with Richard?” she asked, after a while.

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