Page 14 of A Bride for the Duke of Sin

Ethan stopped in the middle of his tirade. She was looking at him like a wounded animal, massaging the wrist he had grabbed so brusquely earlier.

Remorse flooded him immediately. He had not meant to hurt her. It was the last thing he ever wanted to do.

“You think that I would… that I would be willing to…” she railed, choking on her fury.

Ethan balked at the disgust in her voice. “That isnotwhat I was thinking about.”

“Oh, that isexactlywhat you were thinking about,” she hissed at him. She angrily jabbed her finger into his chest. “Maybe youdodeserve your precious bride. Maybe I should not have tried to save you at all!”

Wait—what?

Ethan wrapped his hand around hers, careful not to hurt her but just enough to stop her from boring a hole into his chest with her finger.

“What do you mean by that?” he asked her softly. “What are you trying to save me from?”

She glared at him reproachfully. “I was trying to save you from making the biggest mistake of your life—that’s what I was trying to do.”

He could not help but smile at that.

“Sweetheart, why would you save a rake from marriage?” he teased her. “Should you not rejoice that I have now gotten my much-deserved comeuppance?”

“Not like this,” she replied bitterly.

“Like what?”

She sighed as she looked up at him helplessly. “For all your charm and experience, are you truly this daft?”

Ethan had never been called daft, and certainly not by a woman whose head barely reached his chest.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Last night, I heard Miss Delaney talking to her mother,” she admitted, biting her lower lip. “She… they were happy that you were marrying her.”

“I can see why.”

The woman was marrying a duke, after all, and one who was not old enough to be her father at that. Every debutante and her grasping mama would be jubilant at such good fortune.

However, all that seemed to matter little to Phoebe.

She rolled her eyes at him. “Well, I assure you that her celebratory mood had nothing to do with whatever is inflating your sense of self, Your Grace. The young lady was gloating over how it took much less effort for her to catch a Wolf for a husbandandwith a child that is not even yours.”

Not even yours.

Ethan almost staggered back at her words.

He had been right all along—the child truly was not his.

The damned woman had almost tricked him into marriage!

He nearly sighed with relief at the same time fury consumed him.

“I am truly sorry for the ruckus I caused at your wedding,” Phoebe continued, looking down at her hands. “But I could not just let you ruin your life like that, Your Grace. I did not know what I should do—just that I had to stop the wedding at all costs.”

He reached for her hands before she milked the blood clear from her fingers. “You did the best you could, and I am glad for that. Grateful even, Lady Phoebe. Youhavesaved me. I cannot thank you enough.”

“Well, I suppose,” she sighed. “But do not worry about it, Your Grace.”

She turned her gaze away, her face a delicate shade of pink that made him wonder if the rest of her bloomed with that most tantalizing hue.

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