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

just lived under a rock?” She stared at Langley, his eyes light with humor. Her heart did not so much as flutter. In fact, it was as steady as a rock.

He grinned at her. “Perhaps we shall see more of one another in the future. But I warn you, my lady, once you get to know my character better it will be impossible not to like me.”

Rebecca chuckled. She could not help it. Langley was a sport. And she was dancing with him. Something she had only ever dreamed of doing. It surely did her sketch justice. Sadly, the only man she really cared to dance with was not present.

According to their hostess, Lady Stapleton, he had left for London the same day he’d ruthlessly turned her out of her own carriage. Time had passed infinitely slowly since that day, and Rebecca had a notebook filled with sketches to prove it.

“He will be here.”

Her eyes fluttered to Langley’s. “He who?”

“You know of whom I speak.” His grin never faltered. “That is why you are here, is it not? The only reason, I’d wager.”

“I cannot believe I saved my first kiss for a rascal like you.”

His eyes widened. “You saved me your first kiss?”

Rebecca shrugged. “You must not remember my ninth birthday then.”

“Of course I do. Wicke pummeled that farmer boy.”

“You also told me I looked pretty as a peach and that I should—”

“Save your first kiss for me,” he interrupted. “Ah yes, I had forgotten about that.”

“Nine-year-old me never did.”

He cocked his head. “I am an ass for forgetting.”

Rebecca laughed. “You are a man. I never faulted you for that.”

“There’s an insult laced in there, I can feel it.” He cocked his head, his features retaining their good-humor. “I cannot believe you saved your first kiss for me.”

“I did not save it, save it.” When he arched a brow she went on, “It’s not like I had a line of suitors vying for a kiss. But your words had made me feel pretty and wanted, and for that, I thank you.”

“Wicke was the true hero that day.” His eyes twinkled. “The kiss on the other hand . . .”

“Has expired, you rogue.”

Rebecca had been so angry at Wicke for stealing not only her first kiss but her second and third whereas now she could not imagine ever kissing another man. Even dancing with Langley, all her childhood dreams within her grasp, she found he did not stir any fantasy to life. She realized, amongst all the glitter of the ballroom, the Langley of her sketches and the Langley standing before her were not the same men. How could they be? The Langley she had often sketched had been a hero. This Langley was just a man.

She had placed Langley on an impossibly high pedestal.

Poor Wicke.

He could never, no matter how he might have tried, have eclipsed Hero Langley.

I am done standing in Langley’s shadow.

Gah! She could do without a reminder of those heart-clenching words.

And yes, Langley was right. The only reason she had attended this ball was to catch a glimpse of Wicke. The finality of his goodbye had disturbed her. Had taunted her every waking moment the past week. What if he never spoke to her again? What if he was done with her too? Rebecca had imagined her life, ten years from now, and simply could not fathom a life without Wicke. At her side. Always.

Which had caused mild panic to set in.

She would only have herself to blame. He had confessed his love, his desire, and the signals she had sent him had been of awful variety. And if Langley was right, and Wicke would make an appearance, Rebecca would trust Wicke. She would tell him about Knightley’s.

And hope for the best.

The dance ended and Langley guided her off the floor as another set of couples replaced them for the next set. “Are you sure Wicke will make an appearance?”

“I am rarely ever wrong.”

“Is that so?”

He nodded with a grin and waggled with his eyebrows to the corner of the ballroom. Rebecca’s gaze flicked beyond him, touching the brooding features of Wicke, who stood watching them with closed features. Her heart knotted in a tight vise.

Their eyes met.

Rebecca found she could not look away. His gaze held hers steady, his features not revealing any of his emotions. In that moment, all the scattered puzzles of her life locked into place. Langley could never hold a candle to Wicke. Wicke was real. Both in her dreams and reality. He was the man that occupied, no, commanded, her heart.

Langley was just an idea, a series of sketches. And she would keep him—the man her nine-year-old self had idolized—as he was, unencumbered by flaws, and she would turn her attention to the man she loved as a woman, rich in flaws.

She blinked, and in the span of that single flutter, Wicke turned his back on her and stalked from the ballroom. Around them, people were dancing and laughing, oblivious to the sudden nerves that gripped Rebecca in a breathless hold.

“I believe,” Langley said rocking back on his heels, “my cousin means for you to follow him.”

“It does not seem that way to me,” Rebecca said, worried.

“Trust me, my lady, I know my cousin. You should go to him.”

“I . . .” Rebecca glanced around the room. “Someone will surely notice me slipping from the room.”

“Do you care?”

Rebecca furrowed her brows. Did she care? She found the answer simple. No, she did not.

She grinned at Langley. “Thank you for the dance.”

He nodded, and Rebecca spun in the direction Wicke had disappeared.

“Thoughts breed excuses. Actions breed results,” she breathed and dashed off to her destiny.

WOLFSTAN WAITED FOR Rebecca to follow him. If she’d follow him.

Inside his chest, his heart thumped in a painful rhythm. Jealousy. It tasted bitter on his tongue.

Intellectually, he’d had innumerable insights over the past week, all of them ranging from what a fool he’d been over the years to his more recent idiocies. Two of