Kiss Me Forever. Rosemary Laurey

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СКАЧАТЬ he was coming to go through her books. What had she started?

      Sebastian ignored six rings, shrill above Emily’s sighs. He slipped his hand over her breast as the answering machine clicked on. “Uncle, you have to be there. Talk to me!”

      Sebastian wanted to spit. Couldn’t James manage anything? He’d had all evening with that troublesome woman out of the way. He’d better be calling to announce success. Sebastian leaned over Emily and picked up the phone. “You found everything, I hope.”

      “No way. This makes three times I’ve scoured that room. Nothing’s there.”

      “You’ll find it on the fourth. Go back and don’t come home without it.”

      “Not on your Nellie! You can’t make me go back. That place is haunted. Not just noises. Tonight I saw a white face at the window. You’re not telling me that was a local yokel.”

      “Get back there!”

      “Never!”

      Sebastian cussed as James hung up. He turned back to Emily.

      She sat up on the desk, slowly pulled her skirts down and tucked in her blouse. “If he didn’t find their records, we’re in trouble.”

      “Not yet. We’ll find them. If they’re that well hidden, Miss LePage isn’t likely to stumble across them. They have to be in that book room. I’ve gone through every other paper with a fine-tooth comb. Nothing’s in the bank. I checked. Being executor has its advantages.” He tucked in his shirt and zipped his pants.

      Emily stood up. “What do we do if we can’t find them?”

      “Win time. Delay things. Inconvenience our Miss LePage. Maybe James needs a helper.”

      “Who?” Emily stopped. Her eyes widened as they met his. She shook her head. “Not me. Not in a million years.”

      “You have a lot to lose if the truth comes out. The bank wouldn’t be too happy at the idea of a witch among their staff. Rather spoils the image.”

      “It’s not illegal anymore. I don’t have to worry.”

      “No?” One hand grasped her neck as the other stroked her chin. He kissed her, pressing his mouth down to part her lips. He kissed her long enough to release a sigh then drew back, his hand still firm on her neck. “You’ll do what I ask, Emily. Because I want it.”

      “What shall I do?” What a mess she looked with her rumpled hair, smudged lipstick and creased skirt.

      “Give me two days. Fix a nice Sunday breakfast for our Dixie and make sure it keeps her in bed for a couple of days.”

      Her eyes widened as his meaning dawned. “I can’t do that!”

      His hand trailed around her neck to her breast. “You will. Why be a skilled herbalist if you deny your skills to the coven?”

      “This isn’t for the coven. It’s for you.”

      “It’s the same thing. The old women are gone. I’m not letting an inconvenient American ruin everything. All you have to do is give her the collywobbles for a couple of days. She’s a healthy young woman. Nothing can go wrong. Marlowe is poking into things. We’re all set to take care of him. You get our Dixie out of action.”

      Color drained from her face. “Sebby, that’s going too far.”

      Sebastian turned her face up to his again. “I’m counting on you, Emily.” She nodded and he let her kiss him again. He watched her find her shoes, gather up her handbag and let herself out.

      He needed her to come through.

      He wondered what she’d use. Bryony root? Rhubarb leaf? He didn’t want to know. If it went wrong, he preferred ignorance. He hoped it wouldn’t. He still fancied a go at Dixie.

      Dixie looked up at the uneven ceiling beams over her bed. It took a couple of sleep-muddled minutes to place the sound—rain drumming on the pitched roof. Pulling herself from under the duvet, she padded over to open the chintz curtains. Rain wasn’t the word. A steady downpour beat a tattoo on the roof, gutters and street. Orchard House was half-obscured and a lone car drove down the lane, spraying water from every puddle. She’d heard about English rain and this was it. So much for a nice stroll up to church and a morning reading the paper on the Green.

      Change in weather, change in plans. She’d spend the day going through her book room. She had all the time in the world. She only hoped that Aga-thing hadn’t burned the house down.

      Coming out of the shower, she smelled cooking.

      “Good morning.” Emily’s round cheeks spread in a wide smile. “I thought I heard you up. I thought we could have a nice chat over breakfast. Sunday is such a nice, leisurely day, isn’t it?”

      “Perhaps a cup of coffee…” Dixie began. She tried to place the smell. It wasn’t sausage or bacon.

      Emily pressed down the toaster, turning on another smile for Dixie. “No, I insist you must have something to eat. I fixed something special: veal kidneys.”

      Kidneys! Dixie felt the bile rise from the lowest point in her innards. She could drink coffee while the woman munched on bacon but watch while she chewed kidneys? Never!

      “Thanks, but I’ve got to go out early.” She squelched her guilt at Emily’s disappointment. She didn’t stay for toast or cereal either. She had instant coffee in her kitchen and a packet of cookies. She’d make do with that.

      The Aga hadn’t gone out. In fact, the kitchen offered a warm welcome after the damp outside. Nothing like breakfast in her own house—but the milk had gone sour in the pantry. Mug of black coffee in hand, Dixie added “refrigerator” to her shopping list. Her handwriting jumped back at her. She was crazy. A refrigerator wasn’t a purchase for a month’s stay. How about staying longer? No way. Not with traffic on the wrong side of the road, unfamiliar currency, and no telephone.

      She made another cup of coffee and carried it upstairs.

      The repeated ringing of the doorbell broke Dixie’s concentration. For over three hours, she’d lost herself among the books. Resisting the temptation to ignore the bell, she pushed the dusty volumes aside. Halfway downstairs, she paused. Who was it? Christopher? Comments about vandals and teenage intruders flashed through her mind.

      The mahogany mirror in the hall showed the angle of the front door. Dixie paused to glimpse the reflection—nothing but steady rain. Pranksters ringing and running away? Yobs, as Emma called them. Dixie was ready. She’d dealt with teenagers for a living.

      Hand on the brass knob, Dixie waited for another ring and peered through the window beside the door. Christopher! “Come on in, you’re getting soaked!” She flung the door open.

      Better than he’d ever imagined, she didn’t just invite him in, she grasped his hand and pulled him over the threshold. After all these months, he was inside the house. Now he could come and go as he pleased, but Dixie’s welcome triggered misgivings in the heart he didn’t possess. “I got Alf to pack us lunch. A fair exchange for a look at your library.”

      Her СКАЧАТЬ