Page 44 of Storm over the Caribbean
I felt an instinctive desire to hug him. To hold him close and never let go.
“I did. You should diet. You’ve gotten fat.”
Desire gone.Completely!
“I’m pregnant, you son of a bachelor!” I hissed, aiming a kick at his shin. “That’s your child in there!”
He cocked his head. “Your point being?”
“Dang you! I’m going to—” Suddenly, I cut off—then my eyes narrowed. Did my dear hubby think I was so easy to fool? “Don’t think that I don’t know what you’re doing! You’re trying to distract me! To rile me up in order to make me forget that Karim…that they’re probably all…”
I couldn’t get the words out.
“Yes.” Stepping forward, he cupped my cheek in his hand, forcing me to look at him. His dark, fathomless eyes were deeper than any ocean could ever be. “Is it working?”
Biting my lip, I buried my face in his chest. “Yes, dammit!”
“Don’t worry.” His arms came around me, holding me close. “Karim will be all right. He has survived much worse than this.”
“That much is obvious,” I mumbled. “He works for you.”
That earned me a frosty look from my husband. Too bad for him that, in this tropical climate, it was very welcome and refreshing.
For a long moment, we just stood there, holding each other, gathering strength. I was the first to break the silence, when suddenly something occurred to me.
“Who do you think ‘they’ are?” I asked quietly, still clutching him tightly.
“They?”
“That man on the ship. He said ‘they’ had his family. Who do you think he meant?”
“That, Mrs Ambrose, is a question I amverycurious about as well.” The tone of his voice alone made me shiver. I had a feeling that whoever “they” were, they were in for a reckoning. “However, this is neither the time, nor the place.” Releasing me from his embrace, he once again let his gaze sweep over the beach. “We have more important matters to attend to.”
“Such as?”
He turned towards me. His gaze was cold, hard and implacable. “Surviving.”
It was only then that my fuzzy head grasped the implications of the situation. We were on a deserted island. Alone. Without supplies.
“Crap!”
“Not quite how I would have expressed things, Mrs Ambrose, but…yes.”
“Double crap!”
Trapped on an island without food, water, or a method to contact civilization. Not how I planned to spend this little Caribbean holiday.
On the other hand, a little voice whispered at the back of my mind,trapped on an island with sun, beaches, and Mr Rikkard Ambrose. In this hot weather, we’ll probably be sweating a lot. It’s practically guaranteed that he’ll take his clothes off sooner or later. They might even get destroyed or, ehem…accidentally lost. Wouldn’t that be a tragedy?
Immediately, I pushed those thoughts aside. This was not the time to fantasize over a naked Mr Rikkard Ambrose lounging on a beach.
Even if I really,reallywanted to.
Blasted pregnancy hormones!
“…should get to work immediately.”
Blinking, I came back to the real world. “Ehem, sorry. What?”
