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As it stood, she soon discovered in Ethan’s absence that there was no better reading nook in the entire estate than her husband’s study. Thus, it was where she frequently found herself ensconced with a book and a cup of tea before she retired for the night.

“Will you be needing anything more, Your Grace?” her maid asked her.

Phoebe shook her head and smiled. “No, thank you. You may go.”

“As you wish, Your Grace.”

She sighed as she returned to the last page she had been reading. Even after a month of marriage to Ethan, she still had not gotten used to people referring to her as ‘Her Grace’ or ‘the Duchess of Sinclair.’

It did not quite have the same thrill when Ethan teasingly called herhisDuchess.

She frowned and took a sip of her tea. Why was she thinking about that scoundrel on a nice night like this? For all she knew, he probably could not be bothered to remember that he had awife, occupied as he was with his mistresses…

Incensed, Phoebe set her cup down with more force and turned back to her book, when the door suddenly flew open and she let out a slight scream.

Standing in the doorway was none other than her wayward husband, his blue eyes narrowed as he watched her lounging on his sofa.

His lips curled into that familiar smirk that had her heart beating like a hummingbird’s wings against her ribcage.

“It looks like you have been busy in my absence,wife.”

CHAPTER 16

Wife.

Phoebe thrilled when she heard his low voice, her entire body humming as if it recalled how that same voice had brought her to heights of pleasure it had never known before.

“E-Ethan!” she said shakily. “You came back.”

“Of course, I would come back.” His eyes moved from her disheveled hair down to her night rail. “Sinclair Estate is still my home, is it not?”

Phoebe nodded enthusiastically, until she noticed the ominous gleam in his eyes and the tension in his arms. Instinctively, she began to back away when he began stalking towards her, only to find that she was on the sofa, and her back was now pressed against the upholstery.

Despite the casual elegance of his clothing, the tousled state of his hair and the dangerous look in his eyes reminded her that he was still very much the dangerous Wolf that ran rampant all over London.

“You seem to be enjoying your time in my study rather well,” he remarked in a deceptively casual tone.

She flushed and ducked her head. “It has the best lighting in the entire house for reading,” she mumbled lamely.

“I see.”

Phoebe swallowed and allowed her gaze to travel back up to meet his as he continued to walk towards her, starting from his shiny boots, up his muscular thighs and the hardness that bulged between them, when she sawit.

Her heart pounded in her chest as her eyes landed on the familiar binding and the gold lettering embossed on its spine.

“Y-you’ve read it?” she murmured, her eyes flickering to his. “Y-you could have sent a letter to tell me what you thought of it. You did not need to come all the way…”

Her voice trailed off when she realized that he was now standing right in front of her, his legs brushing against her knees in a provocative caress.

“… here,” she finished breathlessly.

His smile flashed dangerously in the firelight. “And did you think, sweet wife, that a duchess should not do such a scandalous thing as publish a provocative book under her own name?”

Phoebe gulped and said, “I did not think you would mind. I… You never said a single word to me all this month and?—”

And I was very lonely and I missed you.

The words stuck in her throat before she could get them out. Words that she could never say to him unless she was prepared to deal with the heartbreak of laying her vulnerability before him.