Read Online Rules for Reforming a Rake by Meara Platt - Free Book Online Page B

his skinny arse. He’d still have a private word with the man, for there was no mistaking the suggestive nature of his conversation.
    “Yes, you are. It isn’t funny. Gardening is serious business.”
    Oh, she’d bludgeon him if he revealed what he’d truly been thinking about Hornby’s intentions. He dared not burst out laughing. Ouch! The restraint was killing him. “So you lost the necklace in the conservatory.”
    “I can’t be certain, but I believe so. Do stop grinning. It’s the last place I remember having it.”
    He took her arm and led her out of the library. “We’ll start our search there, but let me go in first to clear the place out. It won’t do to have you seen in there with me.”
    “Very kind of you to think of it. Why are you still grinning?”
    “I didn’t realize I was.”
    ***
     Daisy had the distinct impression that Gabriel was staring at her derriere. Well, she ought to have known better than to reach over the oversized lungwort in order to better sift through the foliage and soil beds. She’d thrown herself off balance and was now tipped forward and fully exposed to his scrutiny. “Would you kindly help me up?”
    Wordlessly he moved behind her, placed his hands on the sides of her waist, and drew her to a standing position. She stifled a groan as her back came to rest against his gloriously solid chest. The room was secluded, dimly lit, and lightly scented by the lilac in bloom.
    His body felt warm against hers, the gentle touch of his hands at her waist, intimate. Now if only Gabriel would miraculously turn into Alexander. She closed her eyes and imagined Alexander turning her to face him, and lowering his heavenly mouth to hers... and seeking her lips for a long, lingering kiss.
    She drew away with a start.
    This was Gabriel!
    Oh, she had to stop thinking about the delicious feel of his body against hers and concentrate instead on finding the necklace. After all, Gabriel would not indulge her very much longer. She’d heard him muttering under his breath, something about being punished for his wicked ways. No doubt he considered her a nuisance and had a hundred reasons to part company with her. Only extreme pity for her situation—or perhaps a sacred promise to Eloise to keep an eye on her so that she wouldn’t make a complete ninny of herself—could be keeping him here.
    Perhaps it was a little of both.
    It certainly wasn’t a desire to kiss her.
    She certainly had no desire to kiss him, even if he did have the nicest lips. They gave a tell-tale twitch at the corners whenever he was about to smile.
    “Wipe the dirt off your hands and put your gloves back on,” he instructed, handing her back the elbow-length, white satin gloves that had been meticulously fashioned to match her gown.
    “But we’re not done searching.”
    “I’ll continue to look through the plants and soil beds. Dirt won’t show up against my black clothing, but there’ll be the devil to pay if you stain your pretty gown.”
    “Do you really think this gown is pretty?” She slid the gloves up her arms but was unable to button the cuffs.
    Gabriel sighed and turned her to face him. “Here, let me help you.”
    “Thank you,” she murmured, allowing him to gently tug the gloves over her elbows and secure the buttons.
    He tweaked her nose. “Keep them clean.”
    She nodded.
    Did he think her pretty, too? He’d said so earlier in the carriage, but she had been distraught and he would have said anything to soothe her.
    She studied him as he began to search. He was in very good shape for a debaucher of women and a general dissolute. Indeed, his body was remarkably well toned. So well, in fact, that he might have been mistaken for a Roman gladiator or other such symbol of masculine perfection.
    She knew from the scent of his fresh breath as he’d leaned close a moment ago that he hadn’t been drinking. Odd that he should be among the few sober men at the ball. Her host’s son, Lumley Hornby, had