Page 78 of New Storm Rising
“Who says I want to?”
In a blink, he drew me down towards him, ruthlessly invading my mouth. Right there and then, he reaffirmed what he had already clearly demonstrated earlier tonight: that while Mr Rikkard Ambrose might be stingy, his lips certainly weren’t.
Things…happened.
Even later that night—once again, much, much later, insert innocent whistle here—I lay awake in the arms of my loving husband, who had once more managed to distract me, the moonlight casting a sliver of silvery light into the room.
“What next?” I whispered, my face pressed into his chest. I never knew a bag of money could smell so nice. “The Spaniards are here. What do we do now?”
“Now?” If I’d looked up, there would most certainlynothave been the slightest hint of a grin on Mr Ambrose’s features. But I could hear one hidden deep within his voice. “Now we sit back and wait.”
“Wait?” I blinked, confused. Now that was a word I had not expected to hear. “For what?”
“One, for the money that will be rolling in. After all, my mine is now operational once more. And two…” His arms came around me, holding me close. “Well, you do realize that those two Spanish gentlemen still believe they’ve won a great victory against us, don’t you? What do you think their reaction will be when they wait and wait for my operation to collapse, and…nothing happens to it whatsoever?”
“Oh dear.” A grin spread across my face. “I have a feeling this honeymoon is going to become…entertaining, Sir.”
Entertaining Times
“Bluuurgh! Gurgh! Gnaargh!”
I really, really,reallyhad to stop putting my foot in my mouth.
“Relax,” a cool voice ordered from behind me. “Breathe.”
“What,” I croaked, “through the vomit?”
“If you are capable of growing gills, by all means.”
Oh yes. I definitely had to stop putting my foot in my mouth. Especially since there were so much better places for it. Like, for instance, up Mr Rikkard Ambrose’s backside!
Reaching out with a napkin, he gently wiped the unmentionable substance off my mouth, then exchanged the full bucket in front of me for a fresh one.
All right, maybe his backside will be spared.
“Blargh! Gargh!”
I was normally not a girl to take long with her morning routine. This fine frigging morning, however, I took the teensiest-weensiest bit longer than normal. Like three bloody hours!
“Honestly!” I gasped and pushed myself upwards when the faucet that was my mouth had finally stopped running. “This is getting ridiculous! I’m not on a ship! I’m not riding a carriage, either! For heaven’s sake, I haven’t even gotten out of bed yet! What is going on with me?”
Mr Ambrose gazed out of the window, seeming suddenly very interested in the tweeting songbirds outside. “I couldn’t possibly say.”
“Well, neither could I.” Sighing, I sagged back against his oh-so-solid, dependable chest. “I’m beginning to think I should try outFizzlewiz Fabulous Fitness Serum.”
“Do not. Not under any circumstances.”
“Yeah, I know. I shouldn’t touch that stuff. Instead, I should…I probably should…”
“Yes?”
“Drink a bottle full of tree sap.”
“That,” Mr Rikkard Ambrose stated, “wasnotwhat I thought you were going to say.”
“I know.” I cocked my head, licking my lips. “Wasn’t what I thought I was gonna say either. But suddenly, tree sap seemsreallydelicious. Can I go outside? There are lots of trees outside, and if I scrape the bark off—”
“No.”
