Page 110 of New Storm Rising
“It does, does it?” In a blink, he was up on the bunk and on top of me. “Then maybe I should check it? You know…to make certain my dear wife is of good health.”
“Y-yes,” I squeezed out, my mouth suddenly dry. “M-maybe you should.”
“And since you’ll kindly let yourself be examined…” Reaching for his tailcoat, he shrugged out of it, then started on the first button of his shirt. “Perhaps I should reciprocate.”
“P-perhaps,” I agreed.
Then he pulled his shirt off.
“Scratch that,” I corrected myself. “Definitely.”
“Very well, then.” Taking hold of my hand, he bent down and placed it onto his finely chiselled chest, right above his heart. “Examine to your heart’s content.”
Smooth skin. Strong, hard muscles, flexing underneath my fingers…
Bad Lilly! Bad! This isn’t one of Amy’s elicit romance books you borrowed for a nice little private time! You can’t actually be thinking of doing it in a prison?
With a soft sound, my dress landed on the floor. The dress Mr Rikkard Ambrose had just divested me of.
No…I wasn’t thinking about it. We had long since started the doing.
“R-Rikkard…I…”
“Yes?”
I swallowed, glancing at the barred window. “What if…if someone sees?”
“I’ll eliminate them.” He spoke without the least bit of hesitation. Bending down, he placed a gentle kiss upon my forehead, then cupped my face in his hand. “For my eyes only.”
We were locked in a prison cell. We were alone and helpless, at the mercy of our enemies. And yet…
I had no problems believing him. Not while looking into his eyes. He was in charge. He had the power. Whatever or whoever dared to stand in his way, he would eradicate it.
Warmth rose in my chest, spreading throughout my body. Particularly downwards, to a certain spot.
I licked my lips, once again glancing towards the window to where, in the distance, the sound of hoofbeats could be heard. “How long do you think before they’ll come for us?”
“Long enough, my wife.” Mr Ambrose answered, closing what little distance was between us. “Long enough.”
***
“News! The hottest news! Trial to happen! Brit and his broad about to be sentenced to death—”
“Oy!” The paperboy stopped abruptly as he felt something tug on his trouser leg. Confused he glanced down and—
“Eeep!” Yelping he leapt back.
“Hey, no need to be a scaredy-cat.” A hand emerged from between the window-bars at the kid’s knee-level. Dang those buggers for building the new prison half underground. Just becausesomeone—cough, cough, don’t look at me, cough, cough—had ripped their wall apart previously, was that any reason to make things so inconvenient for new inmates? “I want one of those. Here are fifty cents.”
“Err…ehem…” Bending down, the boy took the coin and handed me a paper. “Here you go. Thanks.”
“Welcome. And…”
“Yes?”
Slap!
“Ow!” The brat clutched his stinging butt.
