Rules of Murder by Julianna Deering Read Free Book Online

face nearer to his, until their lips almost touched.
    “Do I have to put it into words?” she asked, her voice low and languid, her eyes inviting.
    He could feel the rush of blood in his veins. “Yes.”
    She moved even closer and then gave him a quick, childish peck on the cheek. “I think you’re cute.”
    She jumped to her feet and stood looking down at him with a pixie grin. After a stunned moment, he stood beside her, glad for the darkness that covered his flushed face.
    “I see.”
    She kissed the tip of one finger and pressed it to his lips. “I think you’re awfully handsome, and I’ve never been attracted to anyone half so much, but that may be nothing but moonlight and Bucks Fizz.”
    Laughing softly, he shook his head and sat down again. “Fair enough.”
    “Well, I am a tease,” she admitted, “and so are you, if you want the truth. Bringing me out here into this lovely garden and not even trying to kiss me. And looking at me through those long lashes. You should be ashamed.”
    He laughed again. “And if I had tried to kiss you?”
    She put her hands behind her back, a coy little gesture that made her all the more enticing. “I might have let you.”
    “Or poured a drink down my shirt.”
    She grinned at him still. “You can never be too sure.”
    He drew one of her hands into his own and pressed it with a light kiss. “I thank you, mademoiselle, for returning me to my senses.” Looking up at her, he kissed her hand again, this time with tantalizing deliberation. “We’ll talk about this again one day.”
    With a flash of lightning and a rattling clap of thunder, the sky ripped open, releasing a torrent of rain.
    “Quick!”
    He grabbed her hand and ran toward the greenhouse. It wasn’tfar away, but by the time they reached shelter they were both soaked through with cold rain and warmed with running and laughter. The smell of earthy decay inside the greenhouse seemed stronger than usual. There was also the faint odor of fresh paint and another nasty smell too, but rain did that sometimes. He hunted down a lantern and a dry match, and soon they had a small circle of light.
    “I’m afraid your lovely dress is spoilt,” he said, plucking at her rain-spotted sleeve.
    She laughed. “You’re not much better.” She pushed a lock of hair from his forehead and wiped away the little rivulet of water that had run down from it onto his nose.
    “We shall look a sight, the pair of us, going back into the house like this.” He dared her with a smile. “We could stay out here and create a scandal. Or, I should say, have one invented for us.”
    She pursed her Cupid’s bow lips and leaned conspiratorially closer, clinging more tightly to his arm. “You mean when they find us out here frozen to death?”
    “Oh, I say, what an idiot I am. Of course you’re cold.”
    He began struggling out of his sodden dinner jacket, but she stopped him.
    “No, thank you. I’m drenched enough as it is.”
    “Well—” He held up the lantern, shining its feeble light around the greenhouse. “Ah, just the thing. Come along.”
    He marched her over to a pile of mackintoshes tossed in the corner.
    “We mustn’t have you catch your death. It simply isn’t done.”
    He picked up the coat on top of the pile and held it up for her to put on, but she wrinkled her nose, shrinking back. The nasty smell was stronger than ever now.
    “It doesn’t look entirely clean, does it?” he admitted, a bit embarrassed.
    She took the lantern and examined the next one down. “This one’s worse, I think. Smells sort of sickening.”
    “Hold that closer,” he said, puzzling over the dark stain.
    Something had spilled or soaked over the coat, and he pulled it back to see if the rest of the pile were in the same state. Madeline gave a sudden, stifled cry, and he grabbed the lantern and set it down before she could let it crash to the floor. She didn’t make another sound, but she clutched his shoulder painfully hard, her