Page 102 of New Storm Rising
“Aaaah!”
“Still have any cheeky remarks now, Mrs Ambrose?”
“S-sure I do. You—oooh! Nnnng! Aaaah!”
“That’s what I thought.”
With a soft noise, the top button of my dress opened. It was music to my ears. Not wasting even a second of time, Mr Rikkard Ambrose divested me of the rest of my clothes until only a few flimsy scraps of cloth were between me and the man who had set my heart on fire.
“Come here, you,” he breathed, capturing my face between his hands.
Oh yes. Yes, yes, ye—
Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam!
“Mr Ambrose! Mr Ambrose, Sir! Something’s happening!”
Crap.
Someone thought it was a good idea to interrupt my personal time with my husband?
Well, seems like they would get to be up close and personal with me instead. Or at least a certain part of me. Like my fists, for instance.
“Want to ignore whoever that is?” I asked, lifting an eyebrow.
“Strangely…yes.”
I grinned.
“However, what Iwantto do and what Ishoulddo are two different matters entirely, Mrs Ambrose.”
“Hmm…” Reaching up, I traced a finger along the edge of his jaw. “And which of the two will you choose, I wonder?”
He hesitated. He actually hesitated.
My grin widened.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
“Mr Ambrose! Mr Ambrose!”
Thrice blasted son of a flea-bitten bi…!
No. Dogs were nice. No need to insult them. Especially when there was someone else who deserved insults so much more.
Bam! Bam!
“Mr Ambrose? Can you hear me?”
Oh yes. Insults. Lots of insults.
Taking a deep breath, Mr Ambrose slid off me and started to dress.
And maybe a black eye or two, damn husband-snatching bastard!
Grumbling, I pushed myself out of the bed and started wandering around the room on the search for the various bits and pieces of clothing that had been scattered everywhere. It was as I was stretching up on my tiptoes, trying to reach the petticoat dangling from the lamp on the ceiling, that I heard the hushed voice from the front door.
“…looking utterly hopeless! They want to talk. No…they’redesperateto talk!”
