Satisfied with her tasks for the day, Daphne gave herself a chance to stroll in the gardens. They were sprawling, as possibly what was expected in an immense estate. The gardens blended human design and natural blooms. She breathed in the crisp air, relaxed.
“Feels like a private Hyde Park,” she murmured, as she took in more of the vast estate.
The Grisham estate in the countryside was also huge. Her father had been a hunter and loved to stay near nature. However, theWolfcrest estate was at a different level. Relaxed, her ears perked at the sound of rhythmic grunting.
“What could that be?” she whispered, suddenly alert.
She followed the nose toward an area near the stables. It looked like a stone gymnasium built for physical conditioning.
Curious, she walked toward the sounds. She peered through the window and saw a scene that made her jaw drop.
The room itself was not that impressive. It was spartan but featured what was necessary for physical training. She’d seen where Daniel trained. It looked similar, with punching bags and wrestling mats.
In the center stood Adrian. He was wearing merely rough linen breeches that rode low on his hips. His chest and abdomen were bare, well-built and glistening with sweat. He was wrestling with a large man, both grunting with the effort.
Daphne was not witnessing the elegant Duke, who had self-control down to pat. She was looking straight at the Wolf.
And the Wolf was a sight to behold. The Duke was tanned and muscled all over, not soft and pale like some lords. His shoulders were broad. He was obviously strong as he managed to battle with the larger man. Scars lined up as small constellations on his shoulder blade.
The Duke had always been intense, but on the mat, he was mesmerizing. He moved like an animal who was barely tamed, managing not only to use force but also strategy. Her eyes followed how sweat streamed down from his throat to his chest and down his abdomen to?—
She placed a hand on her mouth to stifle a gasp. Something else was going on, too. Between her legs, something pulsed. She pressed her thighs together to relieve the sensation but to no avail.
She wanted to see more. Feel more.
The Duke broke through her lustful reverie, swearing aloud as he mustered all his strength to pivot and slam his opponent onto the mat. He stood powerfully over his trainer, his chest heaving.
Then, he turned, as if by instinct, to look out the window. Their eyes met. She knew she could not remain. She did not want to have to admit that at that moment, she wanted to be devoured.
Devoured by the wolf.
The wrestling incident did not leave Daphne’s mind for the rest of the day and the evening. She was embarrassed about being caught spying on him, yes, but she could still also recall the delicious sensation between her legs.
She had never felt anything like it before.
“The Duke looked strong, agile, and handsomer than ever,” she muttered to herself. “You are permitted to find your own husband attractive, Daphne.”
She had never indulged in the urge to mumble to herself, but this instance stood out as a stark contrast from all others that came before. When she had glimpsed her husband, covered in sweat, snarling and grappling with another human being, every one of her senses tingled.
She thought of the way he panted heavily and tossed the sweat-soaked hair out of his eyes and the remembrance caused her heart rate to jump frantically.
Because Daphne did not understand these new feelings, she sought to bury them.
The following morning, something thrilling happened. The world woke up to snowfall. She dressed herself in a simple gown and her thickest coat, suddenly overcome with the urge to feel the snow.
The Duke was already in the main parlor when Daphne ran down the steps to take a better look at the white landscape.
“The first snow of the season,” he murmured, sounding almost reflective. “It makes the estate bearable.”
“Does it?” she wondered aloud. “Was this place intolerable before?”
Daphne walked toward the window beside him. True enough, the scene was magical. The gardens she had just strolled in not too long ago had become white, blanketed by heavy snow. The trees by the forests were decked with snow, as well.
“It’s beautiful,” she agreed. “I miss such days.”
She swore he raised his head to turn toward her, but she would not look at him directly.
Outside, a stable boy scooped some snow to throw at the groom. Soon, they were flinging snow back and forth. She laughed with them, even though she was several meters away, in the warm comfort inside the house.
