Page 82 of New Storm Rising
Two days later…
“De La Fuente?”
“Any day now!”
Three days later…
“De La Fuente!”
“I saidany day now!
And another three days later…
“De. La. Fuente!”
“I know,maldita sea! I know! It won’t be long now! Sey won’t be able to hold out for much longer!”
***
“Say…” I panted, gazing up at Mr Rikkard Ambrose hovering above me. Naked. More than a week later. A very interesting week. “How come we haven’t heard anything from those two Spaniards? Aren’t they doing anything?”
“Apparently not.” He cocked his head. “Should we stop doing what we are doing and find out why?”
I considered this for a moment. A moment during which I let my gaze rake over his naked form. Once more, a grin spread across my face.
“Nah. Now, come here. Honeymoon time!”
Gaining Weight?
In blissful peace, we continued to enjoy our honeymoon, but of course we were not idle. Over the next couple of days, Mr Ambrose and I discussed in detail what we might do in case the Spaniards went on counterattack. And if most of those discussions happened to occur in bed, with a distinct lack of clothing…
Well, clothes were expensive. As a new wife, I had to help my dear hubby save money, hadn’t I?
Even when we were not exercising in the fresh air of the bedroom, I was keeping myself busy. I was not exactly a brilliant cook, and years of boiled potatoes in my uncle’s house had not really turned me into a gourmet of gastronomical proportions, but when I saw the men and women coming out of the mine, exhausted after a hard day’s work, I simply couldn’t stop myself. I knew all too well what it was like to come home from work sweaty and exhausted, driven all day by a boss who was a merciless, slave-driving son of a b—
“What are you thinking about, Mrs Ambrose?” a voice came from behind me.
I cleared my throat. “Ehem. Nothing, really, hubby, dear. I…was just thinking about how much I love you.”
Two familiar, possessive arms snaked around me pulling me close. “Is that so?”
Marriage 101: when in doubt, distract.
“You know it is.” Purring, I turned around within the grasp of his arms, standing up on my tiptoes to place a kiss on the hard angles of his jaw.
“So…you were thinking of how much you love me while cooking potato and onion stew?”
Drat!
“Onions can be very romantic?” I hedged, reaching over to stir the pot once or twice. “I’ve heard of them moving people to tears.”
“Ah.” He nodded. “That does make sense.”
I blinked. “It does?”
“Indeed. Now I know what to give you for our first anniversary.”
Double drat!
