“I want to get to know you better, Adrian,” she said softly. “I know you can protect me. Your soul is locked away somewherein that place you’ve forbidden me to enter. Let me see the man behind the Wolf. If we are to truly share our lives and love each other deeply, I need to know who I am waking up beside and spending my nights with, darling.”
Adrian fixed her with a stare, probably wondering what kind of brazen courage she was holding within her.
Sometimes, when her husband’s gaze was this intense, Daphne felt unnerved. But her resolve was firm this evening. She would not be swayed from her course, even by the intimidating Duke of Wolfcrest.
Daphne was a woman who was trying to be brave, but had she gone too far this time? Here she was, begging for his darkness. Was it too much? Perhaps. It might be that she wanted to go beyond what she had been trained for—being the obedient girl who was supposed to become the perfect wife.
“One night,” he finally said, in his ragged voice. His eyes held hers, almost as if he thought he’d disappear in the blink of an eye. “But there are conditions, Duchess. You will not leave my side. If you speak a word to anyone, I will drag you out of the Obsidian Card. Entering it would already call for scandal, anyway. A fight between us would merely solidify what they think of me and what I can be to you.”
“I promise to follow your rules,” Daphne said weakly.
She wondered if she had made a mistake.
The air in the gambling hell felt heavy and intoxicating. Her heart raced with the thrumming energy she detected from the gaming hell. She suddenly felt too prim and proper for such a place, and she understood Adrian’s hesitation.
Everyone seemed to be on edge. One lord gripped his whiskey glass and a bottle at the same time, while his two companions’ eyes darted from table to table as if deciding which to join. The others were engaged in games or watching from behind, ready to bet if necessary. One slammed his fist on a table with fury, obviously at the losing end.
Adrian’s hand instinctively went to the small of Daphne’s back. It said a lot with that gesture.
This woman is mine. Nobody gets to hurt her.
“I am not afraid,” she whispered, even as her eyes widened when she saw the piles of gold coins. She was not fascinated nor tempted by the wealth but shocked by how some people were too willing to part with it. “I like how this place seems to pulse with so many secrets. It is a life that I don’t know beyond where I’ve been expected to stay.”
Adrian looked at her, as if searching for the truth in what she was saying. She smiled at him, amused at how eager he was to prove to her how dangerous the gambling hell was, even though theywere already there. But she trusted him. After all, he was the Wolf. This was his lair, and therefore, a part of him.
The couple settled at a baccarat table in a private salon. It was dark, thick, and humid, due to the scent of expensive cigar smoke. But with gold coins stacked high and with curses and exhales getting louder, Daphne could swear that the heaviness was partly due to the players’ desperation.
Daphne knew that patrons weren’t aware that Adrian was the owner of the gambling hell. It was entertaining to pretend to be the wife of the most loyal patron as they settled on a plush velvet bench to watch the rest play, nonetheless. They were pretending to be merely watching idly, dealing with a different kind of diversion.
For once, Daphne was not the prim and proper lady, but a bored duchess looking for more excitement. The whole thing thrilled her.
Unease might have prickled her back when she first entered, even if she could not admit that to Adrian, but it was replaced by curiosity. It was sharp and unbidden, having her narrow eyes to watch the nervous hands of one of the players.
“Mm. That man would have an apoplexy over the game; he lacks the composure for it,” Daphne murmured.
She said those words while testing her husband’s fortitude, letting her breath ghost against his ear. She was distracted, andhe might be too, as his nose flared even as he tried to focus on the games.
He smiled. At first, it was well-controlled, as if he was afraid the patrons would see him as anything but the fierce Wolf. Then, the control shattered and he chuckled. It looked like he knew what she was doing and was not afraid to acknowledge it in a place where people didn’t expect him to sound so happy and unguarded.
“Duchess, composure is the only currency here,” he said in a low, deep voice, the kind that sent shivers down her spine. “Players need to know how not to flinch or panic. They need to know how not to show their ruin. Then again, thetonis made for that. These gentlemen have been forged under the steely gazes of their friends and family members their entire lives. They know how to perform.” He paused and smiled ruefully. “I will grant you that man, apparently, is an exception.”
“So, you can admit that I belong here? I can spot weakness on my first day,” she said cheekily, her lips curving into a mischievous smile.
Suddenly, this version of herself no longer felt like an act. She had slid into this new role effortlessly and rather liked sitting close to her husband.
“What is the penalty for lacking composure, Your Grace? Is it only about losing gold? Or something more?” she whispered into his ear.
Daphne found it easier to tease him now. She felt like she was seeing more of his real self, even the darkness that was not truly dark but more of a grasp for survival and revenge. Even as they teased about the patrons’ hands, his left hand slipped under her velvet cloak, settling on the skin of her waist.
She stifled a gasp. She could not believe how bold he was being, only a few feet from other people.
“Endurance, my darling,” Adrian whispered, teasing back, as his thumb rubbed her skin. The slow circles the rough pad was making against her soft skin made her shift in her seat. “The people who lose often have the desire to rush and surrender restraint. In some ways, though, surrender is necessary.”
He was not done yet. His thumb rubbed gently but possessively, and Daphne had to summon all her self-control to keep her hips from moving. She bit her lip so that she would not moan—not here, not in the Obsidian Card.
“I will have to teach you surrender, Duchess,” Adrian continued. “See how much pleasure your nerves can bear. I believe the lessons should best be administered in private. What do you think?”
Daphne’s breath hitched this time. Her hand reached for his thigh, griping him there even as she felt even the sensations that he was not giving her at that moment. She was making her own gamble, feeling the silent seduction happening in the noise of the gambling hell.
