Once Upon a Duke (12 Dukes of Christmas, #1)

by Erica Ridley

Winter enveloped the frost-tipped forest in its deathly grip as the lone black carriage made its determined way up the side of the frozen mountain.

The dizzying white castle seemed to mock him from the peak of the mountain. That had been his estranged grandfather’s home. The same grandfather responsible for reviving what had once been a ghostly settlement into a vibrant Christmas village.

She crossed her arms beneath her bosom. “No doubt you’re here for the will.” Ten o’clock on the morrow. He wouldn’t be a single moment late. “I shall be gone before you know it,” he promised. “No doubt.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “You were last time, too.”

She knew she was being prickly. But sometimes the only way to protect oneself was to keep a safe distance from those who could inflict hurt.

“We are all leaders. Each sparrow takes its turn against the winds in order to guide and protect the others.”

In a world where nothing lasted, it was better not to try, not to be disappointed, not to get hurt. He had left her because he had feared being left.

“Christmas lives in one’s heart, not on one’s calendar.” She lifted her shoulders. “In my case, it lives all around me.”

Allowing him back into her heart wasn’t the problem. He had never left.

Those five words warmed him all the way to his heart.

“Family isn’t limited to blood. It’s who you make it. Family is a choice.” Her voice cracked. “Home is a choice.”

No one who could answer yes to remember the time when? No one whose touch was familiar, whose kiss felt like coming home.

If he had yearned for her before, his addiction had only increased. It was as if his eyes wished to drink her up, to commit every eyelash, every wrinkle of her nose, every curve of her lips to memory.

“I pushed you away not because I don’t want you, but because I cannot keep you. Yet I long for you like a sapling longs for rain. Although I know I cannot stay, I long to touch you, to taste you, to feel you against my skin.”

The horses halted obediently. It was Benjamin’s heartbeat that ran amok.

Mr. Fawkes was right. It was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all… But it was even better to get his imbecilic arse back to Cressmouth posthaste and do his damnedest not to lose Noelle.