Page 18 of The Duke’s Cursed Virgin (Cursed Brides #3)

Chapter Seventeen

“ T ear the letter up, Sophia,” she whispered to herself.

Sophia’s breaths came in shudders, just as her whole body trembled. It was almost as if she could feel him there with her. Her fingers tightened around the letter, threatening to crumple it with the strength of her reaction.

Her body tingled at the thought of letting Theo do more to her body when the memory of his touch was still fresh.

Your taste is still on my tongue.

Her cheeks burned. The Duke of Wolvesley—Theo—was absolutely wicked. Still, her body reacted, throwing away all caution and the warnings she had received throughout the years.

She remembered her own warning to Anna about Lord Longford. She was a damn hypocrite.

She needed the warning, but she was too far gone. With mere words on paper, Theo had unraveled her. Her breaths were shaky and uneven, and her heart seemed to protest against her chest.

Who in their right mind would sneak out in the middle of the night to meet with a man as dangerous as the Duke? A man like him didn’t want marriage. He just wanted someone who could warm his bed.

And yet…

“You are not reckless. You are not impulsive. You use your logic over anything else,” she reminded herself as she managed to slow her breathing.

Sophia could not help it.

The whole arrangement seemed so convenient. So easy. Was this how he had his mistresses go to his home?

There was no real rest for Sophia that night. Her mind had already flitted elsewhere. To Theo. To their upcoming tryst. Anna might have eyed her curiously, but the rest of the household seemed oblivious, too focused on the success of the musicale.

Sophia pretended that nothing was wrong, that she wasn’t still hearing Theo’s voice in her head. She couldn’t even tell Anna. Her secret was far too dangerous to share.

Still, she had a feeling that she’d have another one tonight.

When the house fell silent that night and the clock was inching toward midnight, Sophia slipped out of bed and quickly dressed into a simple purple silk gown. A dark cloak completed her attire, hiding her curves and intentions. She could feel the weight of her decision dragging her down more than the cloak could.

The tug of war within her intensified, and even as she gripped the door handle, her mind screamed at her.

This is not you, Sophia. You are more sensible than this.

But his words seemed to hold more sway. They expressed how much he wanted her. For shame, it also meant she wanted him if she was tiptoeing in the dark on a night she should already be sound asleep in her bed.

She moved swiftly but quietly through the hallway, careful not to make the floorboards creak. However, it was an old house and an exercise in futility. Each faint creak made her pulse rush in her ears.

Sophia descended the stairs, eager to finally reach the servants’ entrance. Then, she heard a noise. It could not be that loud, but it seemed so in her ears. She paused, trying to hear if anyone had woken up.

Nothing.

The house was merely settling, as the mild temperatures of the day had dipped into the night. When she reached her destination, the night air felt like a blast of ice on her heated skin.

There, in the shadows, stood a black carriage.

When she saw the open door, she hesitated only momentarily. The driver, dressed in black, nodded at her politely but did not say anything more.

When the door closed, Sophia felt like she had sealed her fate. Then, the carriage moved. There was no turning back, and she was unsure if she liked it.

London’s lights faded as the carriage disappeared further into the night. Sophia’s shame also faded as excitement rose instead. How could she feel like this when everything was so secretive? So improper?

Everything went smoothly, silent except for the beating of her heart and the occasional thudding of wheels on something rough. The moon hid behind the clouds, just as unwilling to bear witness to everything, as the rest of the streets seemed to shy away from the tryst.

It felt like an eternity, but then the carriage slowed as they approached a dark but grand estate. Sophia wondered if she had made a mistake. Anything could happen to her there, with only the faint glow of candles peeking through the windows.

Tonight, it seemed like that wasn’t an option and that she had to stomp on her own sense of decency.

The back entrance welcomed her, and she slipped into the darkness. A familiar voice greeted her from within.

“I was beginning to think you wouldn’t come.”

Theo stood a few feet from the doorway, his broad frame barely illuminated but very present. He was not wearing a coat, and his shirt was partly unbuttoned. It looked like he had been waiting for her impatiently, his hair tousled as if he had run his fingers through it several times.

The thought nearly wrecked her.

“I should not have come,” Sophia admitted, even as she inched closer to him. “This is reckless. It might ruin me forever.”

His lips formed a smirk, ever arrogant but still oh-so-dashing.

“Of course, it is reckless. Secret entrances and exits, midnight, a secret carriage ride on an almost moonless night. Yet, it will all be worth it.”

“Will it?” she asked.

“Oh, it very much will,” he said, reaching for her hand.

Sophia let him lead her deeper into the darkness of the house.

When the door closed, her heart dipped low into her stomach.

“Your Grace, where is everyone?” she asked, realizing how quiet the place was.

She was expecting at least one discreet servant crossing the corridors.

“They are not here for tonight,” Theo said simply, shrugging. “I wanted us to be alone. And I will not expect you to be formal. Call me Theo.”

His words were a delicious caress as they walked further into the dimly lit corridor. There was so much promise in those words, which made heat pool in her belly.

Some of the tension dissipated when she saw and smelled what Theo had in store for her.

Even though his estate was large, the dining room had only a small table set for two. Candlelight flickered in the middle of the lavish preparation of roast meat and sweet wine. A plate of chocolates rested in the background, almost as if it were trying to hide in plain sight.

“Y-You had this arranged? All of this?” Sophia asked, her fingers flying to her lower lip.

“It is nothing much,” Theo replied, stepping behind her to unfasten and remove her cloak.

Although the gesture was quick, his hands brushed against her shoulders. Their heat was enough to replace the thick cloth that no longer provided warmth over an otherwise flimsy gown.

“I want you to feel comfortable,” he said, pulling out a chair for her to sit on.

Comfortable? How? Her body was too aware of him. He was too close. Too large and imposing.

“It’s improper for a lady to be dining alone with a gentleman at this hour, in such a secluded place,” she said, laying down her worries.

“We’ve done more improper things together, pet,” Theo reminded her, chuckling as he poured her a glass of wine.

“T-That was a mistake,” Sophia said, knowing full well the words that came out of her mouth were lies.

Her cheeks flushed, and it had nothing to do with the wine she had just sipped.

“Was it?” Theo asked, sitting down next to her. He had set the table so that their plates were close to each other. So close that she couldn’t breathe. “If that was a mistake, why are you here then?”

She knew that he was right. She should not be here at all. A woman worrying about improper things should not be putting herself in the way of impropriety. Placing herself right in front of temptation.

“Do you really think it was a mistake, Sophia? Tell me honestly. Tell me that you didn’t think of it just as I did. Your face. Your taste. The feel of your body against mine has been haunting me since then.”

Relative silence followed. Sophia tried to focus on the meal, but the heady effect of the wine and the flavorful meat reminded her of his kisses. His taste. Everything felt rich and forbidden. It was not only he who had become obsessed with how their last tryst went.

Sophia swallowed her food, trying not to make a sound. Her fingers trembled slightly as she reached for more. It was all she could do not to face him, for she knew that he was watching her intently.

Their fingers occasionally brushed, and it did not feel coincidental. She noticed how he refilled her wine, barely reaching the middle of the glass. It was a message. He wanted her senses—all of them—aflame.

After they finished their meal, Theo leaned back in his chair to watch her with an intensity that fit the ton’s name for him.

The Wolf Duke.

His gaze sent shivers down her spine.

“Tell me, darling,” he murmured. “Why did you come? Why did you accept my invitation?”