Rowan continued. “Next question—if you saw another man looking at her, admiring her, perhaps evenflirtingwith her, would you care?”
“Why would another man dare to flirt with her?” Simon countered. “She is married, and such a thing can prove disastrous for him.”
“Consider this a hypothetical situation,” Rowan insisted. “If, say, the two of you were not married.”
“Then, it would not be a bother,” Simon answered, though he reconsidered his words retrospectively.
“So, you would not intervene?” Rowan pressed.
“I suppose not.” Simon shrugged his shoulders, but gritted his teeth.
“My friend,” Rowan smirked, “you’re a terrible liar.”
“And you’re looking for a truth that does not exist,” Simon countered. “That is calledreaching.”
“Fine then. I am reaching,” Rowan appeared to concede for a moment. “So then, tell me one final thing, if I were to call upon your home tomorrow, introduce myself to the new duchess,and perhaps even steal a dance, how would you feel about that?”
“Youwilldo no such thing.” Simon’s response was immediate and menacing.
“There you go,” Rowan said, satisfied finally. “Thatright there is called jealousy. And what a fascinating development it is.”
Rowan was practically glowing with glee. For the life of him, Simon could not understand why the matter pleased him so.
“Are you done with your questioning?”
“Well, no. Just one more.” A playful smirk played across his friend’s lips. “It is a rather personal question, this one, but tell me, Linwood—have youclaimedher yet?”
Simon shot him a warning look, but Rowan only laughed.
“So, no, then?”
“It is none of your business,” Simon asserted.
“Well, if you haven’t, then I should say that you’re in quite the predicament. Must be maddening.”
Simon remained silent, but his mind betrayed him. It wasmaddening.
He could still see her. The way she had looked that night, her body trembling beneath his hands, her breathless gasps, the way she had fallen apart in his arms.
He had meant to teach her control, yet he had nearly lost his own.
And now, he was avoiding her.
Because if he was near her, he knew—knew—that he would not be able to resist touching her again.
He wanted her. God help him, he wanted her.
“None of this should be your concern. She is my wife,” Simon said at last, his voice steady. “And you will keep your distance.”
“Oh, this is rich. You barelyknowthe woman and yet—” Rowan laughed, studying Simon with a grin that made him want to punch him. “You feel both jealous and possessive?”
Simon knew better than to argue. It was futile, and it would be a lie.
“God above. Youdo.”
“Say another word, and I will put you through that window,” Simon warned, finally running out of all patience.
Rowan merely raised his hands in surrender, though his amusement remained. “Very well. I shall be a gentleman and not inquire further.” He paused, then his grin returned. “For now.”
