Page 13 of A Virgin for the Duke of Scars
Why, oh why, did her voice have to be so much more potent than any aphrodisiac he had ever encountered? The woman could not just look alluring; she had to sound like a siren tempting him to sin right at the altar, too.
Aaron could only grunt. Intelligible speech was beyond him for the moment, curse the Marquess of Wyndham, his wife, and their monstrously dressed but incomprehensibly delectable daughter.
“May we proceed, Your Grace?” The clergyman asked.
Aaron nodded briskly and gave another grunt of assent. Grunts, growls, and other forms of primitive speech would have to do for now, unfortunately.
At least until he was able to get his brain on straight after the entrance of his bride blew it clear out of the water.
He was going to need whiskey after all of this was over. Lots of it.
“You may kiss the bride.”
Theresa fought down the panic bubbling up her throat.
Is this really happening to me?
Apparently, it was, as the ceremony concluded with unprecedented swiftness. She was well and truly married in her sister’s stead.
It was Hope who should be standing here at the altar. It was Hope who should be wearing this oppressive cloud of extravagance. Who should be standing before the striking man, awaiting the kiss that would seal their union before the eyes of God and man alike.
Instead, it washer. Theresa. The replacement sister. The stand-in.
And her groom’s face was drawing ever closer to hers.
The Lord tests His most beloved children, she reminded herself as her eyes fluttered shut.Surely, this is yet another trial.
Perhaps he would recognize her. See the farce through the haze of opulence they draped over her.
But the man who stood before her was implacable. Indomitable as the walls of Troy themselves. His gray eyes were like storm clouds roiling over the horizon as they regarded her intensely.
A little too intensely.
Theresa quaked under the layers of silk, satin, and lace. Those eyes… all it would take was one good look, and he would know that she was a fake. A backup.
Afraud.
“Wait—”
Her protests died on her tongue at the first touch of his cool lips on hers. A gasp escaped her, her eyes flying wide open.
And then they fluttered closed again.
Heat swept through her, setting her nerves on fire as it scorched down her earlier reticence. There was no part of her that did not feel that kiss. The touch of his lips on hers left her grasping for the thoughts she had had just a moment ago.
What is the matter with me?
Polite applause followed, breaking through the haze that had swept over her. When she opened her eyes, she caught a fleeting glimmer in those stormy eyes. A slight smirk that vanished as if it had never been there at all.
That strange heat she had felt in the woods just outside the nunnery bloomed anew inside her, but this time, it was concentrated in her cheeks.
Was I just kissed by the man my sister was supposed to marry?
That… did not sound so good.
And, saints above, she liked it! Wanted him to do it again. To linger, against her better judgment.
Thatdefinitelywas not good.
