The Red Book of Primrose House: A Potting Shed Mystery (Potting Shed Mystery series 2) Read Online Free Page B

up her bag, and said, “Come with me,” as he led her to the elevator.
    —
    “Covers,” she said, “I need covers.” Finally cooled off, she sat up to draw the duvet over them.
    Christopher pulled her back down, put his arm around her, and buried his face in her neck. “I thought this would never happen.”
    She snickered and said, “Yes, events did try to get the better of us—” but he stopped her with a kiss.
    “That wasn’t what I meant.”
    “I know it wasn’t,” she whispered, and nestled her head into his shoulder.
    They were quiet for a moment. “I’ve booked a table for us at half past eight,” he said.
    “Oh, somehow you knew I wouldn’t want an early dinner when I first arrived—how prescient of you.”
    “I knew
I
wouldn’t want dinner when you first arrived.”
    She sighed deeply, ran her finger down his arm, and closed her eyes for a moment. “What time is it now?”
    He reached over her to the nightstand and picked up his phone. “It’s eight. I suppose we should be up and busy.”
    Looking over at his phone, she said, “You won’t get anyone ringing you about a case this weekend, will you?”
    Without replying, he switched it off. “I’ll get dressed and go down to check on our table.”
    How chivalrous,
she thought. After he left, she got out of bed, repaired her hair and the dab of makeup she wore, and pulled out the package from Jo, which turned out to be a beautiful, long-sleeved, maroon dress of thin, soft wool with a very wide and deep neckline. She eyed the dress cautiously. It looked as if there would be no pushing up and creating cleavage, so that was a good thing. Still, dresses—let alone dresses with deep necklines—were not Pru’s usual forte.
But,
she thought as she pulled it on,
Jo said to wear it and so I will.
    She looked in the mirror. The fit and the color were perfect, but the amount of exposed skin shocked her. She began tugging at the neckline, trying to pull it higher. “My God, what was Jo thinking?”
    “You look beautiful.” Christopher had come in without her noticing, and stood across the room.
    She whirled around, laughing, and put her hand on her chest. “I feel bare.” She needed another layer or she’d spend the night embarrassed. “I have a scarf—I can wear that over my shoulders.”
    He smiled at her as he walked over and held out a flat, square leather box. “I have something for you. Maybe it will help.”
    It took her breath away—a gold filigreed, fan-shaped pendant on a gold chain made of etched oval links. Her eyes filled with tears. “It’s gorgeous. Thank you. It looks old—sort of art deco.” She picked it up and let the gold chain slide through her fingers.
    “It’s from the 1930s, so they told me.” He lifted her chin and watched her for a moment. “I don’t know the right time or place for this.”
    “To give me a beautiful gift?” she asked.
    “To tell you that I love you.”
    “Oh,” she said, her breath taken away once again. In Texas, she had kept her relationships at an emotional arm’s length, unwilling to make a commitment that would tie her down to a place she didn’t want to call home. But now she found her heart as close to him as they were standing.
    She laughed. “That’s amazing.”
    “Is it?” he asked with a quizzical look on his face. He slipped his arms around her waist.
    “Yes, because I love you,” she said, running her fingers through his short hair. She slipped her arms around his neck, and they gazed into each other’s eyes.
    He kissed her and said, “Dinner.”
    “Would you help me with my necklace?” She handed it to him, lifted up her hair, and turned around so that he could do the clasp.
    He kissed her neck, and then she heard him patting his pockets. “Hang on a tick—I’ve left my glasses in my jacket.”
    She needed no scarf, not with her necklace to show off. They sat quietly at dinner, stealing glances and sharing small smiles while the waiter described the