Page 80 of A Virgin for the Ton's Wolf

In other words, Scarlett would have to suffer more hours of sifting through ribbons and flowers and tasting quiches and cakes. By the time she managed to climb into her bed that evening with Snowdrop, she was fairly done with wedding preparations.

“I never want to have to determine between ecru and eggshell again,” she complained to the poor puppy. “Or sniff another flower. Or taste another quiche.”

No wonder her friends hardly ate at their weddings. Scarlett had had enough of her own, and the day had not even arrived yet.

It would have been so much better if she could at least talk to Hudson once more. His dry humor would have been so much better than dealing with two excited dowagers the whole day.

If Hudson had been there, he’d have swept the ribbons off the table in one stroke, she thought to herself with a smile.And then he would have told everyone to get the hell out as he sat me on that table and?—

Scarlett felt her cheeks flame in horror at the direction her thoughts had taken. Seated her on a table, indeed! To dothat. How utterly scandalous!

And depravedly thrilling.

She buried her face in her hands and moaned. “There will be none of that now,” she muttered bitterly. “No bending over tables and chairs, like he’d said.”

Why did he even have to tease her imagination like that? Oh, he was the most cruel man to ever walk this earth!

“At least he never made any pretense at being nice,” she mumbled. “At least I have known what he was all along.”

A Wolf. A rogue. The very worst libertine of them all.

And strangely—and infuriatingly—enough, one who vowed to keep his hands off her.

If she had told herself this same thing a month or so ago, she would have laughed herself silly. Or declared she was going mad.

She still thought she was going mad sometimes.

Now, she was just incredibly disappointed to go along with it.

“You are a fool.”

Hudson glared at his friend over the billiards table—and missed his shot.

Ethan laughed at that. “Now, you are a foolanda poor shot. Damn, Wolverton—pick a struggle, will you? You cannot be miserable in all aspects.”

Daniel smirked as he took his place at the billiards table. He, on the other hand, did not miss his shot.

“I must admit we all expected you to announce your betrothal to Scar—Lady Scarlett,” Colin hastily amended when Hudson shot him a venomous glare. He turned towards the other two. “We all saw how he looked when she came down the stairs that night at the ball. It was only a matter of time.”

“Depending on how bad his denial was,” Ethan added.

Hudson growled. “You, myfriend, have begun to overstay your welcome.”

But Ethan simply shrugged. “A true friend will tell you what needs to be said, especially when you need some good sense knocked into you.”

“Well, I am marrying the lady, am I not?” Hudson snarled. “What more do you want?”

“And yet you are unhappy and snapping at everyone in your vicinity,” Daniel remarked with a raised eyebrow. “Has the lady in question gotten under your skin?”

Under his skin. Into his very blood. Etched into the marrow of his bones. No one had ever come so close to him as Scarlett had dared.

And now she was trapped with him. Entangled in his darkness. Enmeshed in his guilt and the ghosts of Wolverton Estate.

Daniel’s eyes flickered with some unknown emotion. “Would it be so bad if she managed to get closer, Wolf?”

“Yes, it would.”

Because Scarlett was light and laughter. Warm kisses and sunlit afternoons. Innocence and fire.

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