Paint the Town Red (Fox & Oakby Murder Mysteries Book II)

Back Where We Started

"What?!" Petra asked.

"I know where the reliquary is." His voice was calm. "And I'm sure you'll find it most amusing—"

"No! No! Oh goodness me, I should have known!" Petra floundered in his arms, but thankfully he was tall, long-armed, and strong enough to save her from hitting the ground. "Oh I knew I couldn't trust you!"

"Darling, please—" he started in his treacle-like baritone.

"Put me down!" Petra demanded. "Put me down this very instant. Oh, I'm ever so cross with you!"

"You hardly have—" he started, and Petra made her Slavic 'bah!' noise signalling her ire.

What vexed her most was that he remained just as charming in her eyes - despite his traitorous nature coming to light.

"Put. Me. Down," she gritted through her teeth.

He obeyed. Her feet touched his exquisite polished parquet, and she almost started pacing in front of him in agitation - when she remembered she couldn't 'pace' these days. Petra crossed her arms on her chest.

"How long have you known?"

He looked her over, and sighed. "Not long."

"Oh you!" she hissed. "You— You just don't understand, do you? You're duping me again! Just like when you withheld the scans of the Bible!"

"Darling, you're being dramatic."

He gave his roguish smile, reserved, Petra suspected, for very few people - potentially just one; but even this squint of his and his curled up lips and the twinkle in his eyes didn't diminish her frustration.

"But I'm not!" she exclaimed. "And do you know how I know that I'm not being dramatic? And trust me, I know I can be, because I have so much emotion, and towards you especially, because I sometimes feel like this whole romance is something quite from a very good telly show or some excellent book that you just want to read very slowly, because if you rush, you'll soon run out of pages - and I don't want to run out of our pages!"

Petra loudly sucked air in, because for the last five seconds she'd been speaking without any oxygen in her lungs - and pointed her finger at his gorgeous nose.

"I know I'm not being dramatic because you are feeling guilty! If you didn't, you wouldn't have waited till the very last moment to tell me the truth and wouldn't have called it a 'dark secret!'"

His eyes flew up to her face, and he tilted his head, his lips twitching in a smile - but he didn't argue. Petra felt her confidence grow.

"You are duping me again," she repeated.

"In my defence I've only been duping you for one night and one morning. And I've been quite busy." He smirked lopsidedly. "While you didn't seem that interested in talking last night."

Petra narrowed her eyes at him.

"Where's the reliquary, John?"

"Come," he said and stretched his hand to her.

She looked at his long fingers and his open palm. The desire to refuse the double-faced scoundrel fought in her with her professional interest. Petra was sad to admit, the latter was additionally bolstered by her Indiana Jones-esque proclivities.

She huffed air and placed her hand in his.

***

"Oh don't tell me—" she muttered looking around the library where he'd led her. "Are you saying there's a priest's hole somewhere here that you've conveniently forgotten to mention while allowing me to explore the library?"