Whisper of Jasmine Read Online Free PDF Page A

seen.
    “Stay here. I mean it—if you move, I will hunt you down, and I can do it,” he instructed.
    She gave him a halfshrug and he turned away, refilling both of their punch cups while she tucked the soaked ribbon and sticky pendant into her small bag.
    He returned, nodding towards her bare neck. “I hope the pendant wasn’t valuable. It looked awfully costly.”
    She shook her head. “It’s just something my aunt wanted me to wear. A bit of tat she thought would make me look particularly fetching.”
    “Why? Is tonight a special occasion?”
    She shrugged again. “Not particularly. But Delilah is determined to play matchmaker and set me up with some old beau of hers.”
    He leant closer and she caught a spicy whiff of shaving lotion. “Actually, it’s me.”
    Evie blinked. “You?”
    He smiled again. “I hope you’re not too disappointed.”
    She gave him a serious look. “I don’t know yet. You might have disappointing habits like biting your toenails or playing Gregorian chants on the recorder in the nude.”
    His expression was amused. “I promise you I cut my toenails like any other gentleman and my musical tastes are firmly fixed in the seventeenth century. It’s Palestrina and Purcell for me, and I usually play them clothed, although I can’t make you any promises.”
    “Well, then, we’re definitely not compatible.” She nodded to the gramophone. “I happen to love jazz.”
    “Jazz? What the devil is that? Are you talking about that fiendish noise playing now? I’d rather slice my ears off than listen to a moment more of it.”
    Evie opened her mouth to reply, but she realised those magnificent eyes were twinkling at her. He was having her on, and enjoying himself immensely in the process.
    He hesitated a moment, as if deciding something, and she saw his eyes flicker to the pair of men standing in the corner. They were watching Gabriel with decided interest, but before she could wonder why, Gabriel reached down and took her hand.
    “Come on. Let’s get out of this press.”
    * * *
    Watching Evie and Gabriel slip through the crowd, Quentin Harkness and Tarquin March sipped at their punch and made polite conversation. A tall Nordic-looking blonde standing nearby heard them exchanging views on the current situation in Ireland and hurried in the other direction to avoid being drawn in to what must have been the dullest party conversation she had ever heard.
    Aware they were outside of earshot of anyone else, Quentin kept his expression pleasantly bored, but his voice was emphatic. “I am worried about that one. Do you think he is up for this?”
    Tarquin picked up a statue of Cupid from the bookshelf behind him and seemed to be studying a mark on the bottom. He pointed at nothing and Quentin leant near as if to examine it. “Have a little faith, man. I chose him myself. He won’t do anything stupid.”
    * * *
    Gabriel had never visited Johnny and Delilah’s flat before, but he was not an explorer for nothing. He had already figured out that the hallway staircase must lead up to the top storey, and he reasoned there would be access to the roof from there. He had hoped for a staircase, but there was only a ladder. He turned to Evie doubtfully, but she merely smiled and drained her cup of punch.
    “Oh, my!” she exclaimed, coughing slightly. “It’s just like cold fire, isn’t it?”
    “Was that your first cup?”
    “My fourth.”
    “My God, it’s a wonder you can still stand,” he told her.
    She considered that. “Standing isn’t a problem. It’s minding what I say that seems to be the trouble. For instance, ever since I first saw you, I’ve wanted to tell you how utterly beautiful your eyes are and ask you what they remind me of because I know I’ve seen that colour, but I can’t think where. And I knew I was going to just blurt that out—oh!”
    She stopped because he kissed her, quickly and hard, on the cheek. “Forget-me-nots,” he told her.
    “Yes! That’s it. And