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‘He ran off into the jungle as soon as he had untangled his legs from the hammock he dropped out of.’
‘I see.’
My heart was beating wildly against my chest. Dragging in a deep breath of humid air, I tried to calm it down and stop my mouth from being so bloody dry! I had to get a grip, and get on top of this game again!
‘So…what about you?’ Slowly, I rose from my sitting position, taking a step towards him. The air, even hot as it was, tickled coolly over the bare skin of my arms and legs. ‘If you see me, are you going to run off into the jungle, too?’
Silence. He didn’t turn around to look, but continued to fiddle with his knapsack.
‘What’s the matter, Sir? Are you afraid?’
It all went so fast I had hardly time to blink. The knapsack landed on the ground, and he was surging through the trees towards me in a black streak, like a sleek, dark jungle cat. The next moment I was flung off my feet and back against the tree I had been leaning against just a moment before, the rough bark digging into my soft flesh.
Rikkard Ambrose towered above me, so close that I could feel the aura of power radiating off him on my skin. Cocking his head, he leaned down to my ear and growled: ‘Don’t play games with me, Mr Linton!’
‘Oh yes? Why not?’
‘Because if you do, you might soon find yourself the plaything rather than the player!’
I felt a tingle of temptation travelling down my spine. Raising my eyes to his, I met his implacable gaze - warm chocolate brown colliding with the cold, fathomless depths of the sea.
‘Who says I want to play games?’ I demanded - and kissed him.
Stone Cracking Open
Or at least I tried.
But I had been right in regard to one thing about Rikkard Ambrose. He always had to be the first at everything. I had just managed to part my lips when he fell on me like a ravenous animal, the pent-up need of days exploding in one hard, fast, heart-wrenching kiss.
The shock of it hit me like a hurricane. Memories came flooding back, of him and me, entangled in ways beyond decency or doubt. Memories from so, so long ago…Oh God! It had been months since I had touched him. I hadn’t realised until now, but I had missed his touch as if a part of my heart had vanished. And so, apparently, had he.
Good God…!
The wave of shock only slowly abated, and in its wake came a wave of need ten times its size. My knees almost buckled, and I was left helpless, with no idea what to do. Last time this had happened, on our trip to Egypt, we had been kissing for a reason. We were in disguise, pretending to be man and wife. Thus it was - purely as part of the disguise, of course - perfectly acceptable to engage in public displays of affection.
But now?
Now there were no disguises. We were stripped of all pretence, alone in the jungle. Very alone.
Which means nobody will ever know about this Lilly, a little voice at the back of my mind pointed out.
Good point.
I wasn’t going to get a chance to think any further upon it, though. In fact, I wasn’t going to get a chance to think at all. Catching my chin in the silken vice of his hands, Mr Ambrose forced me to open farther, and I did something I normally never did - I willingly complied. All thoughts disappeared as his tongue invaded my mouth and I took it, took him, took everything he gave me and still wanted more.
And then he did something he normally never did. He gave me exactly what I wanted.
He moved, his powerful body pushing forward, his hands sliding away from my face to capture my shoulders. I was pushed back hard against the tree, the plains and ridges of his granite body digging mercilessly, marvellously into me. The aura of unrelenting power in the air around him was so overwhelming, it nearly made my knees buckle. I was trapped between a rock and a hard place - and I didn’t mind at all.
Wrenching his mouth free of mine, he skimmed it across my cheek, eliciting a shiver, until he reached my ear.
‘What about now, Mr Linton?’ he whispered, his voice hard as stone and cold as ice. It made another shiver race down my spine. ‘Do you want to play games now?’
‘Yes!’
Afterwards, when thinking back on this moment, I wouldn’t be entirely sure whether it was actually me who had uttered that single, oh-so important word. But it didn’t really matter. It was out there, and Mr Rikkard Ambrose was not a man to hesitate.
His hands started moving, sliding away from my shoulders. For a moment, I was disappointed, wanting to cry out at the loss of his touch - until his hands returned in other places. Places much more interesting than shoulders.
