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She was certain that kissing another man was hardly within reason, but the Marquess must be made of more persistent stuff. Otherwise, he would not be so bold as to approach the so-called woman of the Wolf under his roof.

“But you have to make up for it, of course.”

“Make up for it? How exactly?”

“A dance, My Lady. Surely, you would not begrudge me the pleasure of your company?”

She would most enthusiastically begrudge him that and more. Unfortunately, if she refused to dance with him, she would have to sit out the rest of the evening, as etiquette demanded.

She looked up at him with all the vitriol in her petty, little heart.

I hope the Wolf brings down his anger on you right this moment!

She glanced around and foundhimlooking at her from across the ballroom, fury evident in his stormy eyes and the hard set of his jaw. Even his broad shoulders were stiff with barely leashed anger.

Desire coiled low in her belly at the sight of him… only for her to remember that she would not have been forced to endure this ball if he had sent her away. He was the one who pushed her away.

Why should she cling to him when he had all but made it clear that he did not want her beyond the scandalous liberties she had given him?

“I truly hope you do not find me so narrow-minded, My Lord.” She smiled up at the Marquess.

“Never, My Lady,” he assured her, ever the charming gentleman.

His manners were impeccable, and he was a fantastic dancer. If anything, she would at least enjoy the first dance, if not his company. It was almost expected that she wouldwantto be married to him.

Too bad she felt more like retching in his presence.

He was the perfect gentleman, true. But he was also sneaky and manipulative, and she simply abhorred how he was able to snake his way into obtaining her hand in marriage.

A loud sound went up from one part of the ballroom, jolting Scarlett out of her thoughts. She craned her neck to look, but her view was blocked by the Marquess—a maneuver that earned him a reproving glare and proceeded to knock a few more points off his approval rating.

“A slight commotion,” he told her smoothly. A little too smoothly. “You know how rowdy these balls can get.”

Of course, she knew that. Did he honestly think this was her first ball? The question was more likewhowould have the audacity to cause a ruckus in Wolverton Estate?

But the musicians had already begun to play, and as Lord Colton led her to the dance floor, Scarlett was forced to shove her curiosity to the back of her mind.

Just take one step after another.

Even if she wanted so much to just leave him standing in the middle of the dance floor, she could not risk her reputation—and her mama’s wrath.

They had scarcely started to move when a huge, dark-garbed figure stepped into her line of vision and obstructed their path.

“Move, Colton.”

Scarlett gasped, her heart singing with glee at the sound of that low, dark, deliciously forbidding voice.

Yes, Lord Colton. Do step aside!

But Lord Colton simply smiled coldly at Hudson. “I believe this dance is mine, Your Grace.”

The two men glared at each other for a moment. And then, like the rogue that he was, Hudson simply bowed andwhisperedin her ear, “Meet me outside, little cat.”

Oh, the shivers! The anticipation!

The absolute rage that she could feel coursing through the Marquess at having been effectively sidelined at their dance!

Scarlett could feel the mirth bubbling up her throat at just how brilliantly Hudson had managed to rile up a man who had so very carefully kept his true thoughts and nature hidden beneath a smiling veneer.