Kissing Mr. Darcy

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Kissing Mr. Darcy Page 11

by Shéa R. MacLeod


  “I used to think that,” Kev said softly.

  “Which part?”

  “All of it, especially about never finding my Mr. Darcy. Or Captain Wentworth, in my case.”

  I sat up abruptly. “Have you?”

  He blushed a little. It was so adorable.

  “Ohmigawd,” I squealed, forgetting my own trials and tribulations. “Mikael? He’s it? He’s your Mr. Darcy? Tell me everything! When did you know?”

  “From the first date.”

  “What?” My jaw dropped. “And you didn’t tell me?”

  “I didn’t want to get overexcited,” he admitted. “You know how I am. But this isn’t about me. It’s about you and Nik.”

  “Forget me and Nik for a moment,” I said, waving him off. “Tell me how you knew Mikael was the one.”

  He cleared his throat. “It’s dreadfully embarrassing.”

  “Please.” I rolled my eyes. “Like you don’t know all sorts of embarrassing things about me.”

  “All right. I met Mikael online. The usual story. We chatted awhile. I was...”

  “Crushing?”

  He laughed. “Yeah, hard. So when we finally set up our first date, I was nervous as hell. All week I worked myself into a lather, until by the day of the date, I was in an absolute froth. Darling, you have no idea.”

  “I think I can guess,” I said drily. “I’ve seen you before a date. Go on.”

  “Well, that afternoon a coworker and I went to lunch. Some dodgy Indian place in the West End. I think the food might have been a little off. Between that and my stomach already being upset from stress, well... things were not going well. But I didn’t want to cancel. Mikael had promised to cook. And I do love a man who can cook.”

  “Don’t we all. Then what happened?”

  “We had just finished dinner, and all of a sudden it hit me. I broke out in a cold sweat. My stomach was in knots, and then it happened.”

  My eyes were wide. “Oh, gosh. You didn’t.”

  “I did. I ran for the bathroom. I didn’t even have time to turn on the fan. Just sat down and, ah, let nature take its course. The bathroom was very echo-y. It was like a Gatling gun going off in there. I knew he could hear everything.”

  I closed my eyes in pain. “Oh, dear.”

  “Exactly. I wanted to die, and not just from the pain in my gut. Unfortunately, the switch for the fan was too far away for me to reach. There was nothing I could do. And then the door cracked open just far enough for a hand to slip in and flip on the fan. Then the door closed. He didn’t say a word. I thought he would dump me the minute I got out.”

  “Clearly he didn’t.”

  Kev gave me a dreamy smile. “Nope. Instead he acted like it was no big deal. I have never been so relieved in my life. He truly didn’t care. In fact, we still joke about that night. Unfortunately, it came back to haunt me almost immediately.”

  I frowned. “How?”

  “About an hour later he started acting a bit awkward. I was worried he’d changed his mind, but he finally admitted he had gas. I assured him it was fine. If he could put up with my bathroom incident, a little gas was no big deal.”

  I winced. “I’m guessing it was.”

  “He’s been flatulating ever since. The man farts like a buffalo.”

  I burst into howls of laughter. Kev joined me. “The point is,” he said, wiping tears from his eyes, “the right person will be comfortable with you—all of you. They will accept you exactly as you are, farts and all.”

  I snickered, then sobered. “That doesn’t help me with Nik, though. I think he did like me, farts and all, but not anymore. Now he thinks I’m a gold digger.”

  Kev patted my leg. “Not to worry, sweetie. These things have a way of working out if they’re meant to. Here, have some more chocolate.”

  As Kev poured me more cocoa, I thought over his words. Unfortunately the qualifying factor for me was “if.” And I didn’t have a whole lot of faith left in “meant to be.” Nope. I’d screwed up royally, and there was nothing I could do about it.

  THAT EVENING, KEV KNOCKED on my door again.

  “You’d better have ice cream,” I shouted from where I was still curled under the duvet.

  “Afraid not. Will these do?”

  I sat bolt upright in bed and stared at Nik, who was holding a pink box of champagne chocolate truffles from Selfridges. Behind him, Kev hovered in the doorway smiling like the cat that ate the canary. “What are you doing here, Nik?” I yanked the covers up until only the top of my head was sticking out. Frankly, I wanted to die of embarrassment. There he was with his tousled dark hair and gorgeous blue eyes, looking all perfect, and here I was in bed like a loser with my hair in a rats’ nest. I surreptitiously sniffed my armpit. And yeah, I needed a shower.

  “Kev let me in.”

  I shot a glare at Kev, who winked at me before backing out of the room. The door shut with a snick of the latch. Oh, he was going to pay for this.

  “Can we talk?”

  He looked nervous, which was sort of cute. But that made me freak out all over again. “You sure didn’t want to talk a few days ago.”

  “I’m an idiot.”

  I lifted an eyebrow. “At least you admit it. Why do you want to talk all of a sudden? After all I’m just a gold digger.”

  He winced. “About that. I’m really sorry, Emma. Truly sorry.”

  I looked at him, waiting.

  He cleared his throat and tugged at his sleeve. Definitely nervous. “Sophie told me she talked to you. That you told her how you felt before...”

  “Before I knew you were stinking, filthy rich?”

  “I’m not rich. Comfortable, perhaps.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. What do I care? I’m over you.” I yanked the duvet over my head.

  “Liar,” he said softly, tugging the covers back down.

  He wasn’t wrong. “What makes you so different from Titus? Jumping to freaking conclusions without knowing the facts? Judging me without bothering to learn the truth?”

  “What? Like you did to me when you thought I was just a coffee shop guy?”

  He had a point. I blushed furiously. “Thanks for pointing out my stupidity,” I mumbled.

  “Hey, I didn’t come here to make you feel bad. I just...” He swallowed. “I’m trying to apologize.”

  Which was what made him different from Titus. Or just about any other one of the numerous jerks I’d dated recently.

  “I am truly sorry for being an ass.”

  My lips twitched. “You were.”

  He sat on the bed next to me and held out the box of chocolates. “I was.”

  I sighed and took the chocolates. “I’m not letting you out of the doghouse for the chocolates you know.”

  “I know. Truce?”

  I bit into one of the truffles and barely repressed a moan. “Okay,” I mumbled around a mouthful of chocolate. “Truce.”

  He took my hand, tugging me closer. I resisted.

  “Don’t. I need a shower.”

  “You’re fine.” He pulled me right up against him. “Ah, Emma. We’ve led each other on a merry chase, haven’t we?”

  “Hey, I might be a little slow, but I’m not the one who changed my mind at the eleventh hour.”

  I felt him grimace. He drew back, catching my gaze with his. Those pretty blue eyes were so ridiculously distracting.

  “I didn’t change my mind,” he said. “I’ve loved you from the moment I first saw you. And I’ve never stopped. I just—got a little scared is all. You are not an easy person to woo.”

  I blinked. “That’s what you’ve been doing?”

  “In my own rather unfortunate way, yes.”

  That was seriously adorable. “Okay.”

  “Okay? That’s it?” He appeared affronted.

  “Well, what do you want me to do?” I teased. “Declare my undying love?”

  “That would be a start.”

  “All right then,” I said, leaning close
. “I love you, Nikolas Archer. With all my heart.”

  He broke into the widest, happiest smile I’d ever seen on a human being. “Good. Because I love you, too. With all my heart. There’s one other thing.”

  I heaved a mock sigh. “What’s that?”

  “Kiss me, Emma.”

  And so I kissed him then and there. Mr. Darcy. My Mr. Darcy.

  Chapter 20

  THE WEDDING OF THE Year!

  One of the most notable weddings of the year was that celebrated yesterday when Miss Emma Roberts, an American cousin of bestselling novelist Kate Wentworth (wife of film star Adam Wentworth), married Nikolas Archer, President and CEO of Archer and Sullivan.

  The bride wore pink...

  Kev sighed and tossed the paper onto the floor next to the bed. He tucked his hands behind his head and smiled at the ceiling, a giddy happiness bubbling inside him. He was rather proud of his matchmaking skills.

  The door to the bedroom swung open, and Mikael stood there, wearing an apron covered in flour and holding a tray with enough food to feed a small army. Emotion welled up inside him, tightening his throat and making his eyes burn.

  “You made me breakfast in bed?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

  Mikael sank down on the bed next to him and arranged the tray over Kev’s thighs. “Of course I did.”

  “It’s not my birthday or anything.”

  Mikael gave him a baffled look. “Why should you only get pampered on your birthday?” He leaned over and pressed a kiss to the top of Kev’s head, which only made the feeling well higher. Kev struggled to hold back tears. He would not cry like a baby.

  “I love you,” Mikael murmured. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, and I want to show that to you every day.”

  This time the tears did spill over. “I love you, too,” Kev managed.

  Okay, maybe Mikael was no Darcy, but hang it all if Kev hadn’t gotten his Captain Wentworth at last.

  The End

  Did you enjoy Kissing Mr. Darcy? Then check out the rest of the series, starting with The Art of Kissing Frogs, book one in the hilarious romantic comedy series, Notting Hill Diaries, available now.

  About Shéa MacLeod

  SHÉA MACLEOD (WHO ALSO writes under Shéa R. MacLeod) is the author of the popular cozy mystery series, Lady Rample Mysteries, as well as the award nominated Viola Roberts Cozy Mysteries and the bestselling Sunwalker Saga. She has dreamed of writing novels since before she could hold a crayon. She totally blames her mother.

  She resides in the leafy green hills outside Portland, Oregon where she indulges in her fondness for strong coffee, Ancient Aliens reruns, lemon curd, and dragons. She can usually be found at her desk dreaming of ways to kill people (or vampires). Fictionally speaking, of course.

  Other books by Shéa MacLeod/Shéa R. MacLeod

  Notting Hill Diaries

  The Art of Kissing Frogs

  To Kiss a Prince

  Kiss Me, Chloe

  Kiss Me, Stupid

  Kissing Mr. Darcy

  Sugar Martin Vintage Cozy Mysteries

  A Death in Devon

  A Grave Gala

  A Christmas Caper

  A Riviera Ricochet (Coming in 2021)

  Lady Rample Mysteries

  Lady Rample Steps Out

  Lady Rample Spies a Clue

  Lady Rample and the Silver Screen

  Lady Rample Sits In

  Lady Rample and the Ghost of Christmas Past

  Lady Rample and Cupid’s Kiss

  Lady Rample and the Mysterious Mr. Singh

  Lady Rample and the Haunted Manor

  Lady Rample and the Parisian Affair

  Lady Rample and the Yuletide Caper (Coming December 2020)

  Viola Roberts Cozy Mysteries

  The Corpse in the Cabana

  The Stiff in the Study

  The Poison in the Pudding

  The Body in the Bathtub

  The Venom in the Valentine

  The Remains in the Rectory

  The Death in the Drink

  The Victim in the Vineyard

  The Ghost in the Graveyard

  Deepwood Witches Mysteries

  Potions, Poisons, and Peril

  Wisteria, Witchery, and Woe

  Magic, Moonlight, and Murder

  Dreams, Divination, and Danger

  Intergalactic Investigations

  Infinite Justice

  A Rage of Angels

  Cupcake Goddess Novelettes

  Be Careful What You Wish For

  Nothing Tastes As Good

  Soulfully Sweet

  A Stich in Time

  Dragon Wars

  Dragon Warrior

  Dragon Lord

  Dragon Goddess

  Green Witch

  Dragon Corps

  Dragon Mage

  Dragon’s Angel

  Sunwalker Saga

  Kissed by Darkness

  Kissed by Fire

  Kissed by Smoke

  Kissed by Moonlight

  Kissed by Ice

  Kissed by Eternity

  Kissed by Blood

  Kissed by Destiny

  Sunwalker Saga: Soulshifter Trilogy

  Fearless

  Haunted

  Soulshifter

  Don't miss out!

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  Also by Shéa R. MacLeod

  Dragon Wars

  Dragon Warrior

  Dragon Lord

  Dragon Goddess

  Green Witch

  Dragon Corps

  Dragon Mage

  Dragon's Angel

  Notting Hill Diaries

  The Art of Kissing Frogs

  To Kiss A Prince

  Kiss Me, Chloe (Coming Soon)

  Kiss Me, Stupid (Coming Soon)

  Kissing Mr. Darcy (Coming Soon)

 

 

 


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