Taming Wilde (Waltzing with the Wallflower #3)(3)

No, that fellow was gone.

And in his place a man the ton said could not be tamed, which quite fit with his name if one asked him, which no one did.

He parted her lips with his tongue and increased the pressure slowly against her mouth. She wrapped her arms around his neck and jerked him down. Colin smiled across her mouth and moved his hands to the front of her dress where he could easily tug it down.

“Amateur effort, I assure you,” a familiar voice said from behind him.

Lady Rosalia gasped in horror and pulled back. A few things happened then. First, Colin wondered if it was in fact a crime to murder one’s best friend. Second, he was slapped across the face, and third, an uncomfortable amount of guilt dropped onto his shoulders, for he was just about to ruin a perfectly innocent girl.

She pushed past Anthony and ran out of the room.

“Truly.” Anthony shook his head. “Have I taught you nothing? Do you even listen to me anymore? Or do you merely stare off into oblivion whenever I speak?”

“Pardon?” Colin was having a hard enough time breathing in and out and not punching his friend in the face without having to listen to him spout nonsense.

Anthony cursed. “One cannot simply pull down a girl’s dress in such a fashion. The corset will all but get in the way. You must loosen a few buttons from the back like so.”

“Why the devil are you telling me how to undress a woman?”

“Clearly, if you are to take this whole rakish lifestyle seriously, you need help. Blazes, you move as though you’ve never done this before. Besides, if I were explaining how to undress a man, I would need more whiskey.”

Wilde swore and moved away from Anthony to sit on the nearest chair.

“If it was me, I would have already returned to the ball. Deed done, skirts tossed, favors given—”

“Stop, please. I do not wish any such image of that in my mind.”

“They are lovely images; whatever is wrong with you? Besides, I’m happily married, meaning the images are of the most beautiful woman in the world who can make a man—”

“Stop! Do you not recognize how traumatizing this conversation can be to a sane individual?”

“Well, there you have it.” Anthony shrugged. “We all know you’ve gone mad; therefore, that is an invalid point.”

The man had a point. For Colin hadn’t felt sane since the day Gemma walked out of his life. “How did you find me?”

“I followed the trail.”

“Trail?” Colin leaned forward. “This should be good. Dare I even ask?”

Anthony sat back on the chair and laughed. “The trail of seduction. The two discarded glasses of wine, the flirtatious laughter trickling down the hallway, and finally the poetic words you whispered into her ear about the view in the library. Really, Wilde? The view? We must begin with your ability to lie. I find it offensive that you would give all rakes such a bad name. Women do not go to libraries for the view.”

Colin rolled his eyes. “Then what do they follow men down darkened hallways for? Hmm?”

Anthony’s eyes closed as a smirk danced across his features. “What every woman hopes for… they want a kiss. One deliciously wicked kiss before they are to be married.”

“I cannot simply tell a woman I mean to steal them away to kiss them!”

Anthony scrutinized him for a moment. “Whyever not?”

“Because it is—” Colin snapped his mouth shut. He wasn’t completely certain of the answer to that question.

Anthony rose from his chair and approached Colin, stopping directly in front of the chair and leaning down. “You simply close your eyes as if it hurts too much to stare directly at the girl, then you reach up to caress her cheek, like so.” Anthony demonstrated, to Colin’s absolute horror. “And then you say, ‘It is complete torture not knowing what your lips feel like on mine.’”

A throat cleared. Anthony jerked back.

Ambrose, Anthony’s twin, was leaning against the wall, a look of concern on his face as he drew his eyebrows in and coughed. “Hope I’m not intruding, but I was under the impression Colin had been trying to seduce another innocent. Apologies. If I had known it was my own brother, I would have run faster. Tell me, has he succeeded in lifting your skirt, Anthony?”

Anthony cursed his brother and glared at Colin, as if it were his fault that Anthony felt the need to demonstrate his seduction skills.

Ambrose shrugged. “Hmm… You must be out of practice. Since you are both still fully-clothed, I must assume you are losing your touch, dear brother.”

Colin scowled and cursed. “Why must you two constantly plague me?”

“I have an answer to that,” Ambrose announced, thrusting his hand into the air.

“Let’s have it.” Colin gritted his teeth. He didn’t want to go back to the ball, but being stuck in the library with two meddling friends was not on the top of his priority list. Besides, he still hadn’t caught a glimpse of Gemma, and he’d promised himself he would look at her tonight without allowing his heart to break in two. Tonight was the night he was going to finally prove to himself and everyone else that he was done with love, done with her, and done with being a proper gentleman.

“You are sad,” Ambrose stated. As if it was some sort of proclamation from the heavens.