“Just Wolf,” he supplied, the ice in her voice enough to kill his rising ardor. Wolf took a step back and offered her a mocking bow. “I trust your presence ’ere is an aberration. Whatever the reason you mistakenly gave your coachman this direction, you’ve realized you don’t belong, and you’ll not be returning.”
His voice was harsher than he had intended. The color fled her cheeks and her chin went up, her lush mouth tightening, making him regret the lash of his response. But bleeding hell, he would not be any woman’s mistake.
Never again.
Without awaiting Portia’s response, he turned his back on her and stalked from the room. One of the guards, Hugh, was lurking in the hall, and Wolf asked him to see the unexpected guest to her coachman unscathed. It was the best he could do. All the time he was willing to waste on any woman. He had already come perilously close to forgetting the vow he’d made to himself long ago when Lydia had given his heart such a drubbing, she’d left it nothing more than ash.
He didn’t need any woman causing trouble or bringing him temptation. Especially not one who was a lady and regretted lowering herself by welcoming his touch and kiss.
As he strode to the gaming rooms to check the floor, Wolf told himself he had done the right thing. He’d never know the reason why she had come to The Sinner’s Palace or what she had been seeking, but it hardly mattered. What did matter was that he would never see her again.