Page 61 of New Storm Rising
“No,” I said. “No, you didn’t.”
“Oh yes. Yes, I did.” Striding forward he bent down and grabbed a scarecrow by the leg. “Angry men are very useful. They tend to make mistakes. Such as overlooking what is right underneath their nose.”
And, hurling the scarecrow aside, he pushed away the gravel, revealing a trap door set into the floor.
Son of a—!
…very clever woman.
Slipping his foot underneath the trap door, Mr Ambrose flipped it upward, andvoilà,there it was: a stone ramp leading deeper underground, farther into the mine.
Turning towards me, he held out a hand. “Well, Mrs Ambrose? Shall we return home?”
***
I had to hand it to Mr Rikkard Ambrose—he knew his stuff. If anyone else on this earth was capable of making a mine inspection romantic, I didn’t know about them.
“Tell me,” I asked, as I stood at the exit of the mine on the side of the mountain, surrounded by the fiery red glow of the sunset that just so happened to light up the golden glitter of the walls like sparkling fairy dust, “did you time this?”
“Of course,” he told me, his arms sliding around me to pull me against his rock-hard chest. “Knowledge is power is time is money, after all.”
Dammit! That’s the line he used to use to rush me around and threaten me with pay cuts! And now he thinks he can get away with making it sound romantic?
And…it worked.
Damn and blast!
“Tell me, Mrs Ambrose…” Gently stroking my hair, he captured the back of my neck in his grip, holding me in an inescapable grasp as he leaned down towards me. A moment later, I could feel his hot breath tickle my skin. “How are you enjoying your honeymoon so far?”
“It…it’s atrocious!” I somehow managed to answer. “Bar fights, being thrown in prison, blowing things up…”
“Yes.” Cocking his head, he gently stroked my cheek. “I did put in a lot of effort into providing you with pursuits and pastimes just to your liking, didn’t I?”
“You…!” Cheeks flushing, I moved to slap his hand away—and ended up holding it instead.
“…are a born romantic?” he finished, leaning down until his lips were only inches away from mine, and the cold ocean of his eyes filled my vision. “That’s what you were going to say, is it not?”
“N-no, I—”
His lips sealed mine, cutting me off midway. All thoughts in my head were blown away, and in their stead rose pure, unadulterated need. For a moment, there was nothing but silence. And another moment. And another. Not a single sound was to be heard. Well…except for the occasional moan and groan.
I swear, it was the wooden beams supporting the ceiling. They should really be checked for structural integrity!
Finally, the two of us broke apart and he gazed down at me, his eyes intent and inescapable. “Now,” he repeated. “What do you think? Am I a born romantic?”
“Y-yes.”
Another deep, devastating, bone-searing kiss. “Is this the honeymoon you’ve always wished for?”
“I…I didn’t even think I’d get married for most of my life.”
His eyes narrowed infinitesimally. “That didn’t answer my question.”
Shit! He had noticed that, had he?
I wet my lips, feeling a flush stain my cheeks. “Y-yes.”
Thank God I was so tanned! He probably couldn’t notice my blush, right?
