Deadly Clementine

“Why, though? Why would anybody be that vile?” Moss demanded, his voice loud in the quiet of the room.

“That’s for you to find out as well,” Ben grinned. His smile widened when Moss groaned.

Moss shoved the covers back and forced himself out of bed. He wanted nothing more than to sleep a little more, but time was passing and with each hour he languished in bed, nursing his wounded stomach, the longer the phantom cake baker had to make another cake and deliver it to the next victim.

“I have to get going.”

“Just make sure you eat small amounts for a bit. Ease that stomach in gently, eh? You might end up with the shakes for a day or two, but only until this stuff is cleared out of your system.” With that, Ben made one last promise that he would set to work finding out what the fruit cake was made from and took his leave.

Once he had gone, Moss scribbled a note for Mrs Marks and left the house. As far as he was concerned, he had to get to Clementine, preferably before she ate some fruit cake of her own and was snatched from his life forever.

It took far too long, with far too many ridiculously winding roads, so that by the time he did manage to reach Clementine’s house, Moss was in a foul temper. Even so, the relief that swept through him when he saw Clementine’s house warned him that he was already far too much in love with her to ever remain professional while conducting this investigation. She mattered, a lot, and that left Moss with the awful problem of what he was going to do if she was guilty.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Clementine looked up when she heard footsteps approaching. Her brows lifted, and a wild flurry of excitement coursed through her when she saw Moss riding toward her. He appeared so vibrantly handsome that she struggled to tear her gaze off him and didn’t even bother to try to remove her delighted smile as she surged to her feet and began to walk toward him.

“You decided to come back then,” she said, smiling widely at him.

Moss rolled his eyes, but his face remained cold and closed as he dismounted. “How are you?”

She is fine. She is just as beautiful as always, and so damned pretty she makes my teeth ache.

Without hesitation, Moss stalked across the garden toward her. As he walked, he contemplated the sunshine that bathed her. She looked so angelic that he struggled to believe she could possibly be tainted by something like murder. He didn’t allow the low stone wall at the side of the house to stop his steady pace and vaulted over it without taking his eyes off her.

“What is it?” Clementine asked when she saw the severity on his face. She immediately set about wondering which one of the villagers had been taken.

“Tell me it isn’t you,” Moss growled.

“Pardon?”

Moss stopped when he was almost toe-to-toe with her and leaned forward until she was almost overwhelmed by him.

“Tell me it isn’t you,” he demanded.

“What?” Clementine hated to have to ask. She leaned back to look at him.

She was so close he could see the small flecks in in her eyes. He thought he saw something akin to adoration hidden in the depths of her lambent gaze but couldn’t be sure. Right now, he couldn’t see beyond anything more than his need to get the truth from her.

Before Clementine could answer, Moss settled his lips over hers. From the first touch their hearts began to beat together. In sequence, they clung and stepped closer. Each breath was drawn from the other’s lungs. Each moment in time they spent together the world around them faded into insignificance. They could have been anywhere, but were in Clementine’s garden, alone, together, savouring this special moment of connection in a way that broke down all the boundaries of propriety and independence. It opened doors neither of them had ever stopped to contemplate before. It began to light up pathways neither of them had ever explored, and they were pathways neither of them could ever use again. The route they would take would be impossible to forget because it would forge new futures that were together bound as one.

There could be little doubt in Moss’s mind that Clementine was the woman who had the ability to make him change his life. From the first moment he had seen her, he knew he had been lost. It should therefore be unsurprising he had struggled to forget her ever since. Now that he knew what it was like to kiss her, Moss knew he was going to have to do everything possible to make her an integral part of his life. But first, he had to vanquish the threat around her and keep her safe.

Moss groaned when Clementine stepped closer. At first, the touch of her hands on his chest was hesitant, as if she was waiting for him to step back and offer his apologies. But when he merely tugged her c

loser, her touch became firmer and slid up to his shoulders.

Clementine struggled to think past the thick fog that overwhelmed her. Something swirled within its depths, but she couldn’t quite identify what it was. The haze wasn’t anything sinister. It was soft and gentle; like soft, fluffy clouds on a brilliant summer’s day. It was engaging and made her want to smile. She suspected that whatever secret it held was the key to her future happiness. The thundering of her fierce heartbeat commanded that she didn’t ignore it. It clamoured for attention with as much ferocity as her fingers clung to his shirt. She sighed a shimmering breath of withheld air that was full of the yearning that surged through her veins. There was little she could do except savour the moment and welcome the man into her heart.

I suspect he has been here all along, but I have just not realised it, Clementine mused as she contemplated the fierce emotion surging through her.

She wasn’t surprised or appalled by it. In fact, she was rather awestruck that she was able to feel such depth of emotion, and she felt this way toward a man like Moss. Thankfully, he appeared to feel the same. While she revelled in his affection for her, Clementine had to wonder what on earth all of this meant and, more importantly, what happened next.

“We have to talk,” he said softly when he finally managed to lift his head. The reluctance to do so was strong, but he forced it aside because he knew that they had already tempted Fate enough. At some point someone was going to see them, and they both would have a lot of explaining to do. Moss didn’t want his relationship with Clementine be forced in any way. He knew that if her father caught them in a passionate embrace, Cameron would expect some sort of honourable declaration to be made. While Moss didn’t have any problem with that because his intentions toward Clementine were entirely honourable, he didn’t want Clementine to feel forced into marriage. He wanted her to accept him on their own terms, together, as the couple involved in the relationship. As far as he was concerned, it was worst possible outcome for them to be forced into a relationship because of the expectations of other people, namely her father.

Clementine nodded. She tried to remain calm and appear disaffected by what had just happened, but she could do little to hide the fine tremors in her fingers, especially when his hands slid down the length of her arms to capture her hands in his. He pressed gentle kisses onto her fingers on both hands before he released one and tugged her gently with him toward the house. Hand in hand they moseyed through the garden, toward the back door of the house. Moss didn’t want to break the silence between them. It was companionable; comfortable, and gentle. He didn’t want anything to shatter their connection, especially the harshness of a conversation about death and killers. On the other hand, he wanted to be able to get the investigation finished so he could get the killer out of everyone’s lives. Then, hopefully, he and Clementine could then get on with settling down to their future together as man and wife.

“Where is your father?” he whispered.