Chapter 4
Selena
He’s on one knee. Oh my God, he’s on one knee, and he’s holding up my ring, and he has those big green de Vere eyes fixed on me, and I can’t breathe.
When Xavier proposed, it was very charming and highly choreographed.
We all spilled out onto the velvety lawns of Belvedere at midnight on his twenty-first, hundreds of us in white tie and gowns, like something out of a Vettriano painting.
Xavier made a little speech, and then he called me to him, where he dropped to one knee and proposed with this ring.
It was a formality, but it was also a spectacle: a public declaration of intent.
As he pushed the ring onto my finger (we’d already had it sized) and stood so he could respectfully, fleetingly, kiss me on my mouth, I remember floating above myself, watching the entire scene as if I was one of the other girls in the crowd.
I witnessed the moment, but I wasn’t really in it.
Now, as I take in the ring and the uncharacteristic expression of seriousness, of sincerity, on Benedict’s handsome face, the only sounds our breaths and the crackling fire, I feel very much in the moment.
But, of course, I’d do well to remember that this proposal is every bit as much of a charade as Xavier’s was.
Every bit.
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ I say, jerking my chin away from his hand and pushing back on my chair, my panic harshening my voice. I need to put some space between us. I’m seriously fragile this morning, the horror of Xavier’s actions and my reactions seared into my brain.
I can’t believe he did that.
I can’t believe I lost my shit and yelled at him.
And I’m still equally mortified at having been dumped and having had such an epic meltdown in my bedroom afterwards.
So, yeah. Feeling like I’m made of glass today, and a phonily perky proposal from Benedict won’t help a jot.
He stays where he is. ‘I’m not. It’s a really good plan. Genius, actually.’
‘Of course it is. Except for the part where the press eviscerates me for being shafted by one de Vere and bailed out by another.’ Oh my Lord, the mortification of it.
The thought of it is the trigger my body needs to conjure up yesterday’s activation levels again, humiliation washing over me in great, scorching waves.
‘Besides,’ I say, my panic making me spit out the words, ‘no one would ever believe that you’d want to settle down, least of all with me. You’re the biggest tart I know.’
I regret the words as soon as I utter them, true though they may be.
Something washes over his face, but it’s gone before I know it.
Still, he holds the ring up. ‘Not true. Everyone knows I’ve always wanted you, Slinks.
I don’t exactly try to hide it.’ He slides a hand over my thigh, his skin warm through my jeans.
As he does, he glances down my body and back up to my face, and there’s something brazen about it.
Challenging. ‘I’d be more than happy to lock this down. ’
It’s imperative I remind myself that this is Ben’s MO.
He’s very good at getting what he wants with women.
Very good. He knows exactly what effect his words, his looks, have on people.
I think sometimes he almost believes them himself, in the moment, anyway, and that’s precisely what makes him so dangerous.
‘There’s a difference between wanting someone and wanting to marry them,’ I say to remind myself as much as him.
‘Very true.’ He grins suddenly. ‘But it’s a good start, and it’s a damn sight more than you had with my brother.’
I refuse to dignify that with a reply.
‘A lot of women would love to marry me’—he pauses for effect, one eyebrow cocked—‘especially since you’re looking at the new heir to the Dukedom of Oxford.’
I can’t stop my mouth from dropping open. It would have been the obvious conclusion to draw, Xavier having told me his father disinherited him. But there was always the chance that their absolute twat of a cousin, Eddie, would get the title instead.
Benedict as the future Duke of Oxford.
Now that is something I could never, ever have imagined.
‘Now she’s interested,’ he teases gently. ‘I’m suddenly looking a lot more attractive, aren’t I? What do you say, Slinks? We both know it was never Xav you wanted. It was the title. Well, now you get the title and me. I told you. Genius.’
A bolt of realisation courses through me, as sour as a shot of vinegar. ‘So that’s why you want to marry me. Your dad won’t name you as heir unless you go ahead with the alliance.’
He sighs and clambers to his feet. ‘Jesus, I’m getting stiff. Clearly this is going to take a while. Come on. Up.’
Reluctantly, I get to my feet. Before I understand what’s happening, Benedict has flopped down in my armchair and pulled me down on top of him, positioning me so that one arm is around my back and my legs are draped across his—very hard—thighs.
This is not good. This is not good at all.
He sighs contentedly. ‘That’s better, wifey. We should start getting more comfortable with each other, shouldn’t we?’
‘I’m not your wife. And answer the question.’
A cackle. ‘God, she’s tough. Okay, so you’re partially correct.
Pa would like to see this marriage happen—ideally before he dies.
But I don’t think it’s a hundred percent necessary.
He detests Eddie as much as the rest of us, and he can’t forgive Xav for shirking his duty like that.
That’s the real betrayal: the about-face.
If push came to shove, I think he’d let me assume the mantle even as a single man. I haven’t let him down, you see.
‘But. I still think this marriage is what both our families need. Also, I have a code of honour. I can’t see my brother unhappy, but I also can’t let my family shaft yours, and you in particular.
It’s not cool. I don’t even care about the title.
I only want it so I can make sure Xav and Ivy are looked after.
I fully intend to make him do most of the duke stuff—I wouldn’t have a fucking clue.
But this—you and me? I honestly think we can make it work. ’
He seems sincere. He hasn’t taken his eyes off me this entire time.
He covers my thighs with one big hand—diamond ring wedged one knuckle deep on his pinkie for now—and gives them a stroke, and I don’t hate it.
The truth is, I’ve fantasised about being in Ben’s lap for a very long time, but I have never once fantasised about this happening.
This I could not have conjured up in my wildest dreams.
As I gaze down at the hottest, most lethal guy I’ve ever known, I know this to be true: nothing could be lonelier than marriage to Benedict.
He fucks everything that moves; everyone knows this.
The trail of devastated, post-orgasmic corpses he leaves in his wake is epic.
And, while being one of them must be bad enough—having known the ultimate intimacy with him and then being cast aside—it would be a million times worse if that took place in your marital bed.
If he hounded you, and won you over, and took you, and then grew bored.
Distant. In need of newer, shinier, less needy toys.
That would be a loneliness I’d never survive.
Xavier has always been my only insulation against Benedict.
My engagement was the only thing that afforded me any kind of intimacy with him while protecting me from his lethal sexuality.
I could lean into it, have some fun, allow him to flirt with me and sweep me off for raunchy dances at various parties, safe in the knowledge that I was untouchable.
Now Xavier is gone, and my engagement is dust, and I am very much touchable, and that scares the living daylights out of me.
‘The optics would still look dreadful,’ I say, engaging my backbone and making my voice as steely as possible.
I’m also trying to avoid sinking into him too much, because this position is compromising in the extreme.
‘The papers would tear me apart.’ Remember that, Selena.
Think about the humiliation. A proposal from Benedict won’t save you from that.
‘That,’ he says with a smile so beautiful it’s blinding up close, ‘is where my genius becomes a thing of such brilliance that you will be speechless.’
I can’t help but shake my head in amusement, even if I suspect he’s full of hot air. Even Benedict can’t get us out of this one. ‘Go on, then.’
‘Bear with me, okay?’ he says, a phrase that never bodes well.
‘So, this is what I propose. I issue a press release, and it tells everyone that I’m insanely, out-of-my-mind in love with you.
’ I gasp, but he goes on. ‘Have been my entire life. And I’ve watched in abject misery’—he sniffs dramatically—‘as your wedding date draws closer, and closer, and closer.’ He does an ‘Incy Wincy Spider’ crawl with his fingers up my thigh as he says it.
‘I’ve been pining,’ he continues. He’s really getting into character.
‘My apparent womanising has really been a coping mechanism, a way to convince myself I could live without you. But I couldn’t.
And so, on one of the darkest nights of the year, when I’d just endured the unendurable—Christmas Day with you and your betrothed, a vision of unspeakable misery—I made my desperate plea.
I threw myself at Xav’s feet, and I begged him to walk away: from you and from the title.
Because I knew I wouldn’t be enough for you on my own.
I knew I had to offer you the birthright we’d promised you and your family so many moons ago.
So he did.’ He shrugs. ‘And here we are.’
My jaw is pretty much on the floor now. ‘You have got to be kidding me. You want to spin that farcical yarn for the press.’