Page 42 of A Virgin for the Ton's Wolf

Hudson wanted to hurl a few pots at the glass walls of the orangery.

What the hell did she mean byeducational? Did she take him for some kind of bloody training manual on the affairs between men and women? Was she now going to use the knowledge she had gained on—gods be damned—another man?

The mere thought had Hudson boiling with sheer rage.

Not that he did not deserve it, no. Sending a woman away was simply the worst possible response to a kiss that had just incinerated his soul. For a woman who had never been kissed before, her lips had very nearly brought him to his knees—a feat that not even the most seasoned courtesans had ever managed.

And damnation, it had not even been long enough. He could spendhoursjust kissing her, feeling her softness pressed against his aching hardness.

Do not go there.

Theremeant giving in to his basest desires.Theremeant unleashing the full force of his darkness on her.

“What if I want those things, too?”

The recollection of that faint admission had him nearly reeling as he stumbled out of the orangery like a bloody drunkard—only to find Ethan and Phoebe standing by the open door.

Well, Ethan was standing. His wife looked just about ready to launch herself at him.

“Duke,” she said in a scathing tone. “I never thought thatyouwould be theworstWolf of all.”

Hudson’s gaze flicked briefly to Ethan, who only looked back at him somberly. He turned back to Phoebe with a slight grimace. “If you had harbored any romantic notions about my character, then you are sorely mistaken.”

“Apparently.” Disappointment was written all over her face. “Considering that you were the one who talked sense into your friends, convincing them to settle down, I expected better of you. It seems I expected too much.”

He smiled coldly at her. “And therein lies the difference—they needed the advice.”

“And you don’t?” She arched a delicate eyebrow. “So, you can go about kissing my friend without repercussions and she must deal with it on her own?”

She did not even wait for his answer. She merely shook her head in disgust and stalked off, her ire clear in her stiff spine and the set of her shoulders.

Hudson wondered how a woman whose head barely reached his shoulders and whose weight was probably half his own could make him feel like an errant schoolboy all over again.

Yet another woman disappointed in me. Why am I not surprised?

He turned to Ethan, who had been watching the entire spectacle with a hint of amusement. Hudson only hoped he was going to be strong enough to resist the urge to punch that smug countenance of his.

“You saw that?” he grumbled.

Ethan clasped his hands behind his back and grinned. “The kiss? Do not be daft, old friend—we knew it was bound to happen after you pulled her into the orangery.”

Well, Hudson did not. The Duke of Wolves did not kiss women on a whim or give in to fits of lust.

That is… not until a woman with flaming red hair crashed into his life. Not until Lady Scarlett Clarke.

Now, hehadkissed her, and if he had thought that it would at least satisfy his curiosity, he found himself in even more direstraits. His control was already stretched so thin that it was a miracle it had not snapped yet.

And for as long as Scarlett remained at Wolverton Estate, it was only going to be tested further.

“You know,” Ethan mused. “For someone who claims to dislike her so much, you certainly did not look like it, old friend.”

Hudson shot his friend a look of mock surprise. “Oh? So you expect me to throw her over my shoulder and shove her into the first carriage?”

Now,therewas an idea. Unfortunately, the scenes that followed included him getting into the same carriage, andthatsimply would not do.

Trapped in an enclosed space with Lady Scarlett Clarke? Even he was not mad enough to try that.

But it certainly did not keep him fromthinkingabout it.

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