Three Kisses Before Christmas by Wilde, Tanya (good novels to read .txt) 📗

as his sharp eyes narrowed on her. She met his gaze squarely. “Do you mean that I cannot run from your inappropriate behavior? I’d rather forget about it altogether.”

“You do not mean that Rebecca, so do not voice it,” he snapped. “And I do mind. You possess the most tantalizing sweetness. Your lips taste like honey and heaven. Do you think I can just forget that?”

“Do not say such things to me!” This was not the Wicke she knew. This was another man. A stranger.

“No.”

She shot back a no of her own and twisted out of his hold. “No to your sudden interest in matrimony.”

“Sudden? I have wanted you since Jim Parsons pulled your hair and I planted a fist on his nose. Ever since that day, you have brought rhythm to my life.”

Rebecca shook her head wildly. She remembered it differently. Langley had been the hero of that day. Hadn’t he? He had been the one to make her feel pretty amidst tears and mud.

“You can walk away from me, from this, Rebecca. Walk as far as your feet can take you. But you cannot escape the truth. Believe me. I have tried.” He caught her chin in his hand. “And the truth is you feel the spark between us too.”

She jerked her face away. “No, it is different for me. I am not you.”

“No, you are not. And still, all that lies on the other end of your sketches are sparks of unfilled promises.”

“Not promises,” Rebecca denied.

“Perhaps not ones you give voice to. Only your little book is privy to those, yes? You think Langley can give you the life that you long for? I know I can. I want to give you that life.”

Her heart flipped in her chest.

Those sketches again. She hadn’t corrected his assumption about her infatuation, the degree thereof, because frankly, she hadn’t thought to. His kiss had shocked her too thoroughly. Every time he overwhelmed her with his presence, she could think of nothing else but him.

I want you to sketch me.

Lah! How had her life upturned in the beat of a heart? Wicke had always just been there. Steady as a rock. Now he had poised himself as a jagged cliffside that might crumble beneath her feet. She did not want to plunge onto a rocky shore. And she would if she chose to veer too close to the edge of what Wicke was proposing. Marriage? Children? Three little copper-haired boys with soft brown eyes?

Rebecca ruthlessly pushed the unbidden image from her mind. Perhaps she had wanted all those things at one time, but her life had taken a different turn.

What would Wicke say if he ever discovered what she had done? The uninvited thought wormed its way into her consciousness and she picked it apart. It did not matter. She was not the lady he believed her to be.

“You kissed me back, never forget that.”

He needn’t worry. Rebecca doubted she ever could.

She had only realized her mistake after the kiss. She could never look at Wicke as her brother again. The image had been shattered. Destroyed. Stomped into the ground like dust beneath her boot. Like it never existed.

They had never been, and never would be, brother and sister. Not in her mind. Not in her heart. Not in her eyes. The illusion had been lifted. She looked at Wicke through a lens she had not before. Clearer. That of a woman gazing at a man and taking notice.

Saints Above!

Rebecca could not be taking notice of Wicke in such a way. She absolutely could not. What would that even mean for her? She had a plan. A plan that had involved a first kiss, not a second, not a third and certainly not a husband.

She inhaled a shaky breath.

There could never be a possibility of them as man and wife. They had shared a kiss or two. They could share no more. What had she been thinking returning his kiss?

It must be the weather, Rebecca reflected. She preferred summer. Winter must have finally robbed her of all her senses.

“You must leave,” Rebecca announced. “Accompany Langley to Willoughby Castle.”

“Not until—”

The rattle of chains brought their attention to the carriage hacking down the driveway. Rebecca let out a small breath of relief.

Mason.

She rejoiced at her brother’s timing.

“Finally, an ally.”

Rebecca whipped her face to Wicke. He smiled that infuriatingly male smile of his. Rebecca would have dearly liked to remove that smug expression from his face.

But wait . . . Did that mean Mason had known about Wicke’s interest? Wicke had mentioned that Mason had asked him to call on them. Rebecca’s face flushed with instant warmth. She had a feeling she was about to commit two crimes as she narrowed her gaze at her brother’s arrival.

Chapter 7

Rebecca breezed into Mason and Caroline’s chamber, interrupting the couple in a passionate embrace. “Tell me you did not know of Wicke’s sudden desire to marry me?”

At the whip of her voice, Mason shot up from the bed. The flash of guilt at her intrusion evaporated when her brother’s eyes fell on her. He had known.

“Saints, Rebecca! You cannot barge into a man’s bedchamber like this.”

“Why not? It’s not as if I haven’t seen you kissing before.”

Caroline coughed behind her hand.

Mason narrowed his eyes on Rebecca. “I find it impossible to believe that the shy creature who clamps up at events is the same one who barges into our chamber whenever she feels to voice a grievance.”

“Hah! So you admit there is a grievance to voice!”

It wasn’t so much that Rebecca was shy. Rather, she was uncomfortable in the presence of people she did not know. Once she became better acquainted with a person, which, honestly, was a rare occurrence, she warmed up to them. Though she had found since her procurement of Knightley’s the severity of those bouts had lessened.

“That is not what I meant.”

“Wicke told me you encouraged him to call on us.”

“I was concerned about you and Caroline. There is no