Page 44 of A Virgin for the Ton's Wolf

That did not mean helikedit, though.

Oh, he wanted it well enough. She had felt it in the crush of his embrace. The insistence of his lips as they devoured hers. The way his hands wandered dangerously over her curves.

And then she felt the answering need in her own body.

It was a disaster—one she would do over and over and over again if given the chance.

And that is how I know I have sunk to depravity.

A slight knock on her door interrupted her thoughts, and she looked up to find Phoebe peering in concern through the crack.

“I was wondering if you would like to talk about the, ah, the puppy.”

Of course, she was not here to talk about the puppy, but that was Phoebe—endlessly polite and ever the perfect young lady.She would never think about barging into someone else’s room, asking if they needed to talk about how they just ruined their life.

Scarlett managed a small smile. “He’s a little sleepy.”

“He is rather darling,” Phoebe conceded with a soft smile.

She took the seat opposite Scarlett, eyeing her as if she might burst into tears at any given moment.

It was ridiculous, of course. Scarlett was not given to tears or fits of emotion. Well, notalways.

“I thought you would want to tour the gardens more,” she said softly. “Everyone says that the gardens at Wolverton Estate are the most exquisite.”

Phoebe let out an unladylike snort. Yet another piece of evidence of her husband’s influence on her.

“They are lovely enough, but I found the company wanting.”

Only a friend so loyal would declare the company of the Duke of Wolverton wanting.

“Do you not want to spend more time with your husband?”

The golden-haired woman merely rolled her eyes. “The ton already declares that we are practically joined at the hip.Besides, Ethan needs to talk some sense into his friend,” she grumbled.

Talk some sense into the Duke of Wolverton? Then Ethan had his work cut out for him. Scarlett doubted anyone could talk anything into that man. Phoebe had just sent her poor husband out on a fool’s errand, and Scarlett almost felt sorry for him.

“You are not here to talk about Snowdrop, are you?” she sighed. “Truly, Phoebe, I am perfectly fine. I have dealt with far more difficult people than Wolverton, I assure you.”

“Oh, no doubt you have dealt with a great many troublesome men, but Wolverton is not only troublesome, Scar—he isimpossible.”

Scarlett felt the corner of her lips tremble into a slight smile at the frustration in her friend’s voice. “I seem to recall you saying the same thing about your dear husband.”

Two delicate pink spots appeared on Phoebe’s cheeks. “That was different. I had far more patience for Ethan.”

“Because you love him.”

The blonde nodded emphatically. “Oh yes. But that did not mean he was easy to love. He certainly made things difficult for us for a while.” She paused and reached out to clasp Scarlett’s hand. “Is it the same with you and Wolverton?”

“What? Of course not! Do not be absurd!”

The exclamation came so swiftly, like a reaction to being punched, but her laugh came out hollow. Fake.

The look on Phoebe’s face told her that her friend did not believe it either, and Scarlett felt something sink into the pit of her stomach.

Dear heavens, did she actuallyfeelsomething for the Wolf? Maybe she was indeed mad!

Or getting there.

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