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If only he did not open his mouth.

Ethan calmly shrugged. “You did not seem content with your betrothal to the Viscount. I assumed you would not miss him if your betrothal was broken.”

That part, she would agree with. The rest of it? Not so much.

Phoebe threw her hands up in frustration. “Why does everyone assume they know what I want?”

“Well, what do you want, Lady Phoebe?” he asked her, his voice low and serious. “What do you truly want?”

“I want to be left alone!” she spat. “I want to never marry, let alone be forced into it!”

She had been so consumed by her anger that she did not notice him drawing her closer. By the time she was aware of it, he had his arms around her, drawing her into a loose embrace that did not give no matter how much she squirmed in his arms.

“Well, that is too bad, sweetheart,” he told her. “We are to be married in a week.”

A week? That was even shorter than her betrothal to the Viscount!

“You wish!” Phoebe fumed, glaring at him. “Now, release me, Your Grace.”

“Never.” He chuckled as he dipped his head to her neck, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin. “You are mine now, Lady Phoebe Eleanor Barkley.”

Her heart rate quickened, her blood turning hot in her veins. Of their own volition, her fingers curled into his shoulders, digging into the muscles as she held onto him.

His.

There was a certain cadence to his voice when he said it—and she was the fool who wanted sobadlyto believe it.

The Duke of Sin was a Wolf, indeed.

The most dangerous one.

She cannot—must not—fall for his tricks.

Not if she meant to keep her heart intact.

Lady Phoebe Barkley was a handful of trouble. Ethan knew it back then at the house party, and he was reminded of it once more when she decided to single-handedly put a stop to his nuptials.

And yet, she had no plans of marrying him.Ever.

She made that particularly clear.

The one saving grace in this entire fiasco was that she apparently had no plans of marryinganyoneelse either.

Any other gentleman would have found that troublesome. But she washistrouble—not the bloody Viscount Dexford’s or anyone else’s.

His.

So what if she needed a little more convincing? He was certainly up to the challenge.

CHAPTER 6

The next morning, Ethan sat across from the table in his study with a supremely satisfied smirk, a glass of celebratory brandy just within reach.

“So, am I to understand that you just got out of your betrothal to Miss Delaney and you are now betrothed to Lady Phoebe Barkley?” Hudson regarded him with a raised eyebrow. “Is that not a bit too soon?”

“It could not have come at a more perfect time.” Ethan grinned at him. “Lady Phoebe saved me from a fate worse than death. I cannot simply repay her with ruination.”

His friend frowned at him. “You do realize that the ton is already abuzz with talk of your wedding—or what wassupposedto be your wedding. Not to mention that Lord Latimer and his family will never suffer this indignity without protest.”