Page 19 of A Bride for the Duke of Sin (Ton’s Wolves #3)

CHAPTER 19

E than nearly groaned in misery the next day when Phoebe walked through the doors in yet another dress that tested his restraint.

While it was true that he had seen far more scandalous clothing on—and off—women’s bodies, this one not only set off his lovely wife’s creamy complexion to perfection, but its square neckline also seemed to emphasize the soft swell of her breasts.

“Good afternoon, Ethan.”

Bloody hell, did her voice just roll over him like a gentle purr?

He smiled through the discomfort in his groin as he walked over to her. That was the thing, though—ever since he married the lovely creature that now took up residence in his estate, none of his pants seemed to ever fit him the way they did before her arrival.

Now, he had to accept that he was simply cursed with ill-fitting breeches—but only in her presence. Outside of it, his clothes seemed to fit perfectly fine.

“You look exceptionally lovely today, wife ,” he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of her neck as he helped her into her seat.

She smelled damned good, too. Like a potent ambrosia tailor-made for him.

“Thank you, husband,” she shot back. Her eyes trailed from his face down his body with agonizing slowness. Those luscious lips curled into a smile. “You do not look too bad yourself.”

“Of course,” he replied quickly. “I dress with the specific aim of pleasing my Duchess’s most discerning eyes.”

She laughed lightly. “In that aspect, you have succeeded.”

He chuckled and poured a cup of tea for her. “I certainly hope that you are not so free with your compliments, sweetheart.”

“Oh, there is no need to worry about that,” she quipped, smiling as she received the cup from him. “The others hardly merit any attention after you…”

And then, almost as if she had just realized the meaning of her words, her cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink.

“I am glad to hear that, wife.” He grinned at her. “I would like to make sure that it stays that way.”

“This estate is hardly enough to accommodate your ego,” she mumbled. “One should knock you down a peg or two.”

“Indeed,” he replied with sham solemnity. “And you do an excellent job of it, my dear.”

The teaspoon she had been using to stir sugar and cream into her tea paused. “I do?”

“Oh, with great success, I assure you. After all, you have been the only woman alive to have resisted my advances not just once or twice, but several times already.” Ethan sighed dramatically. “One wonders if I have lost my touch as of late.”

Phoebe smiled and rolled her eyes at him. “Lost your touch? Heavens, no . Not even three days ago, I heard Lady Selvidge declare that she expects you to make an appearance at the opera five days hence.”

He shot her a sideways look and grinned lazily at her. “Of course, I will be there.”

Phoebe’s smile tightened, her demeanor turning a notch frosty at his confirmation.

“With my beloved Duchess in attendance, how could I be far behind?” He winked at her.

She shot him a glare over her cup, and he leaned back in his chair, taking his time to admire her figure, encased in that beautiful gown as it was. He committed it to memory, knowing that once teatime was over, he would be rushing back to his townhouse to mentally undress her and relieve himself as he had the past few days.

It was a torment, to be sure, but one that was necessary to earn her trust—or her heart, as she so claimed.

Beneath her prim and proper facade, his Duchess was a romantic, and if that book of hers was anything to go by, she was also possessed of some rather scandalous thoughts. He had even heard the Marchioness of Brandon exclaim that her daughter had run rampant within a month of marriage.

To which he had merely replied that as her husband, he was only too happy to indulge her.

Thus, he had once more set the ton abuzz with his unequivocal defense of Phoebe, drawing more attention to her book.

“You know,” she said softly. “They are also saying that you are enjoying this.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “This?”

“Playing the adoring husband,” she clarified. “Another Wolf tamed, they say.”

Ethan smiled wryly at that. One could hardly call him or either of his friends tame . If anything, marriage and impending fatherhood had only made Colin even more overbearing.

There was even no point in mentioning Daniel, who would ruthlessly kick anyone out of his estate for daring to intrude on his time with his wife.

And Ethan found himself quite as ravenous as he had always been—except this time, his appetites were focused on the beautiful woman before him, who blithely sipped at her tea and ate her favorite pastries, unaware of the dangers the man before her posed.

He pushed his chair back and stood up, and Phoebe looked at him in surprise.

“Come,” he told her softly, extending his hand to her. “The servants tell me that you spend all your time indoors on that book of yours. I doubt you have even seen much of the gardens in the estate. Except for the gazebo, of course.” He winked.

He caught sight of the delicate color on her cheeks and knew that his guess had been correct. For all that she worked hard to keep the estate running smoothly in his absence, she had not even stopped to enjoy the fruits of her labor.

She obligingly slipped her hand into his. “Where are you taking me?”

Here. There. Everywhere. And once I have my fill of you, I will have you in my bed…

He pushed those thoughts aside and smiled at her instead. “It is a surprise,” he said simply.

Phoebe did not even look at him suspiciously as she stood up and allowed him to lead her out of the parlor, her soft smile warming the coldness of his soul far more than the afternoon sun ever did.

His Duchess was determined to fall in love before she gave all of herself to him, while he was just as resolved not to fall into that all-consuming madness that had afflicted his father before him.

Phoebe was convinced that he was not the monster his sire was, but Ethan was all too familiar with the kind of darkness that lurked beneath his skin.

Whenever he looked at Phoebe, he knew .

The only difference between him and the man who sired him was that Ethan would rather cut off his arm than subject Phoebe to the kind of torment his mother had succumbed to.

He would much rather the world be relieved of his existence than for him to hurt her in any way.

Never trust a Wolf when he tells you he has something to show you.

Those words had been drilled into her countless times from the moment she had learned how to be a young lady in Society. It was the sort of thing mothers told their daughters all the time, warning them of the dangers that men posed to their reputations.

Unfortunately, men were all too willing to lie, and women were all too willing to believe them.

Phoebe had been determined that she would never be one of those hapless women when she chose spinsterhood over a loveless marriage.

But she did get married, and truthfully, she was finding it far more enjoyable than she had initially thought.

She turned her face up to the sun with a soft smile, feeling it warm her upturned nose, her cheeks, her lips as Ethan led her out into the gardens.

It was indeed embarrassing to admit that as the lady of the house, she did not even know her own gardens as well as she should. If her mama ever heard of it, she would be horrified.

“What are you smiling about, sweetheart?”

She tilted her head to find Ethan regarding her with some confusion.

“Should I be concerned?” he asked her.

She laughed lightly. “I am the one being led by a Wolf to the gardens. I should be the one more concerned, would you not say?”

“This Wolf just happens to be your husband.” He grinned at her. “You have nothing to fear.”

All the more reason I should be cautious .

“I was just thinking that if Mama ever heard that I do not even know some parts of the estate, she would be sorely disappointed in me.” She shrugged.

“Well, you are no longer just her daughter. You are my wife now,” he declared. “And I am immensely satisfied with you.”

She felt warmth blooming in her cheeks, which had nothing to do with the afternoon sunshine.

“Not so satisfied yet,” she mumbled under her breath, looking away.

He chuckled softly. “Now, that is something that is entirely up to you.”

“I know.”

Any other man would have demanded his rights from the moment the vows left her lips, but Ethan had conceded to her requests and taken time out of every single day for the past five days to spend time with her, when she had been expecting him to merely charm his way under her skirts.

Sometimes, she did wish she was not quite as adamant as she was, especially now that she seemed to be running out of dresses to wear for these charming afternoons with her equally charming husband.

“Well, here we are.”

They stopped before a pond where water lilies bloomed in the water and colorful fish darted lazily beneath the lily pads. A stone bridge covered in blooming roses connected one side of the pond to the other.

It was a scene straight out of a fairytale.

“This is beautiful!” she breathed.

Ethan stood with his hands clasped behind his back. “I am glad you like it.”

He walked up to the bridge and sat down on the railing, patting the space beside him. “Come, sit with me.”

“Is it safe?” she asked him hesitantly.

“Duchess, I would never do anything that would compromise your safety.”

He was looking at her so seriously as if he took such words to heart.

Phoebe smiled as she happily sat beside him, their thighs touching as they basked in the afternoon sun.

“Have you been working on your next book?” he asked her.

She shook her head. “I do not quite know what to write about anymore.”

The past few days, she truly had been stumped for ideas that she had begun to wonder if she truly could make a sustainable income from writing alone. Although she did earn a significant amount from her first published work, she knew that she needed to write several more if she was to become successful in her own right.

“Then write about us,” he told her softly. “About this.”

Her mouth started to open in question when his hand snaked to the back of her neck, holding her still as his lips slid over hers in a sensual caress.

Over the past few days, Phoebe was no stranger to his kisses. There was even that one time when she kissed him.

But she should have known better. Should have known that a renowned rake like Ethan Audley would never kiss the same way twice.

As his lips slid over hers, coaxing a soft, breathy moan from her throat so effortlessly, she could only surrender to the gentle assault on her senses.

In fact, she only seemed to want more of the same.

More kisses. More touching.

Just more .

She sighed as she threw her arms around him and began to move her lips against his in earnest, following his lead as she sought to learn him as much as he did her.

And maybe, just maybe, these kisses might be just the thing to show Ethan how terribly wrong he was about love. How his father was merely a poor example of that and that he could be a better man than the monster his sire had been.

So, she kissed him back and prayed that this handsome, stubborn man would open his heart and change his mind for both their sakes…

He had not meant to kiss her—just like he had not meant to kiss her all those past few times.

Ethan had prided himself on being a master of the love affair. He was not a man led by his cock—he was the one who did the leading. He had ladies falling at his feet, wanting more. Begging for it.

And yet, Phoebe had him tied up in all sorts of knots and tangles until he had no idea where things began and ended.

This kiss was a disaster . A right and proper dismantling of all the defenses and deflections he had put up all these years.

He wrenched himself away from her. “I think that is enough for this afternoon, sweetheart.” He smiled at her. “That is unless you want me to show you a great deal more.”

A frown creased her brow. “I do not think so, no. Certainly not out here in the garden.”

The last part was said with a delicate shudder, and Ethan barked out a laugh.

“When I take you, sweetheart,” he promised her in a low, dark voice, “it would be in a proper bed.”

The bed of the Duke of Sinclair, to be exact. He would not consummate their marriage on a moss-and-ivy-covered stone bridge, damn it, no matter how aesthetically pleasing it appeared.

Phoebe deserved far better than that for her first time.

As for the following times… well, he was open to considering the rest of his estate.

As well as the seven others in his name.

“When you do make me your wife in every sense of the word, Your Grace,” she returned with a slight smile, her finger trailing down his chest, “it will be when you have surrendered your heart to me.”

Impossible .

She was asking for the impossible. She might as well have asked him for the moon and the stars.

He laughed softly and stroked her hair gently. “You drive a hard bargain, Duchess.”

“I simply know what I want,” she told him with a soft smile.

I know that more than anything.

He also knew that at this point, what both of them wanted were two very different things, although they did seem to converge at certain points.

He pressed a soft kiss to her brow and said instead, “It is getting dark. We had best get back inside.”

Or I might be tempted to do more than what we both planned for.