Chapter 13
Tears swam in Rebecca’seyes.
The beast, her beast, smiled, and she could only presume at her utter failure to cast a word his way. She had so much she wanted to tell him, so much she wanted to say, but cotton filled her mouth. So Rebecca did the only thing she could do at that moment, for she certainly could not manage words, and she flung herself in Wicke’s arms.
“Wait,” Wolfstan said and fished out of his pocket a twig of Mistletoe.
Rebecca laughed. “You wish to kiss beneath mistletoe?”
“No better time to start.” The sudden intensity in his gaze made her knees weak. “I love you.”
“You have loved me for years.” Rebecca still could not quite grasp the enormity of that.
“Well, I was not aware of love back then. I just knew I wanted to spend every moment I could spare with you.”
It was impossible to describe the beat of her heart upon hearing that. The closest she could come to relate the feeling was once, a few years back, Rebecca had not paid attention to her surroundings while she rode through the forest.
She had been so engrossed in the surrounding nature she hadn’t spotted the overhanging branch of a tree, and it had hit her straight in the chest, robbing her of her breath as she was dislodged from her horse. A weightless feeling of being suspended in the air had washed over her, and her chest tightening before she hit the ground.
In that moment, Rebecca felt suspended in time, like when the branch had dislodged her from her horse, only this time she was not suspended in the air, but somewhere between her dreams and reality and Rebecca knew her landing tonight would be much sweeter.
Even so, the moment seemed to fall impossibly short. Everything she had ever dreamed of was in her grasp. The world she had constructed in her imagination, in her sketchbook, she could have for real with one word—yes.
“I do not believe you were ever a fool,” Rebecca said. “I believe we are in the exact moment we were always meant to be.”
“Fate, heh?”
She shrugged. “Or just my brother. You know, you did not only steal my first kiss,” Rebecca lightly accused.
“I didn’t?” His expression turned thoughtful, and sensual lips slowly stretched in a wide, unrepentant grin. “I believe I kissed you in a more intimate place too.”
Rebecca’s face flamed at the memory. “That is not what I meant!”
“No?” His thumb traced her lower lips down to the swell of her breast. His gaze dropped to her exposed skin. “What else then did I unwittingly steal?”
“My heart.”
His eyes flicked back up to hers. “Rebecca.” He inhaled sharply. “Are you sure? Do not confess if you are not in earnest.”
“I love you, Wolfstan Robert Ward, Earl of Wicke and Selborne, known affectionately as Wicke, the beast, the wolf, and now, mine.” She inhaled deeply. “I have never been more sincere. I was so caught up in what I might lose that I did not stop to think about what I might gain. For a moment I was worried I lost you.”
“Christ, Rebecca. You could never lose me.”
“Good.” Rebecca nodded. “But words do not hold as much weight as actions.” She rose to the tips of her toes and planted her lips over his. Time slowed as he met her kiss without an ounce of hesitation.
His lips felt as scorching and as natural as the sun rising in the morning and the moon setting in the night. He tasted of sin. Utter wickedness. He returned her kiss with breathless awakening, encouraging her to deepen the kiss, to take everything he offered and more. And she wanted Wicke more than she ever thought possible.
Heavens, the heady scent of spice clung to him and seemed to strike every chord from within. Heat invaded her senses, pooled in her belly as his hands circled her to cup her buttocks.
“Christ, I have wanted this forever,” he breathed into her mouth.
Rebecca answered by shoving her fingers through his hair. She wanted him too. And if she were honest with herself, she had wanted him much longer than she first realized. She just hadn’t been able to access that knowledge, so wrapped up in a childhood infatuation as she had been.
