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The only answer was an animalistic growl that any tiger would been proud of. His fingers returned to their search, sliding over my corset with unshakable determination.
‘At the back,’ I breathed. ‘Laces!’
‘At the back? Why?’
‘No idea! Just do it! Open!’
We were almost there! Almost! His hands were just sliding around, searching for the laces at the back of my corset - when from the bushes beyond the hammocks a few dozen yards away suddenly a voice came:
‘Sahib? Sahib, I’ve scouted ahead, and the way is clear. We can star-nnng! What, by the beard of the-!’
Ramifications
Mr Ambrose’s hands froze.
There was a moment of silence that really, really wanted to be pregnant, but couldn’t be, because I still had too many damn clothes on!
‘Karim?’
‘Y-yes, Sahib?’
‘You didn’t see a
nything.’
‘N-no, Sahib! I didn’t see a thing! I swear it! Al'ha jhu?ha la'i mafa kara, ate mere akha di begunahi nu mu?a kara sakada hai!’[15]
‘Indeed.’
‘I-is it safe to come out now, Sahib?’
‘Yes.’ Mr Ambrose’s voice sounded as cool and composed as if he had just been double-checking his accounting. His hand fell from my back, and only I heard the whispered word: ‘Moderately.’
I didn’t know whether to strangle Karim or laugh out loud. Since the latter was probably much easier to accomplish, I decided on that.
‘What is she laughing about?’ Karim demanded, still in the bushes. ‘Is she taking her clothes off again?’
‘No, Karim. You can come out of there now.’
‘If you say so, Sahib.’
The Mohammedan stepped out of the bushes, but didn’t remove his hand from where it was once more firmly clamped over his eyes.
‘I need my knapsack, Sahib. Where…?’
Mr Ambrose didn’t let him finish. Stepping away and leaving me bereft, he grabbed Karim’s knapsack from the ground, and a moment later, the massive sack hit the Mohammedan in the chest with a heavy thud. Karim didn’t so much as flinch, but grabbed the thing and slung it over his shoulder.
‘Thank you, Sahib. The way ahead is clear. Should we set out now, or do you wish to eat first?’
As if drawn by a magnet, Mr Ambrose’s dark eyes slid back to me. ‘I must admit, I feel quite hungry,’ he admitted, his gaze raking over my curves. ‘But I think it’s better if, today, we set out anyway.’
And, without one more word, he grabbed his knapsack from the ground, snatched up his hammock and disappeared into the jungle.
*~*~**~*~*
It took a while for my mind to resurface from the delirious whirlpool of passion it was leisurely bathing in. We had been marching for half a day, and still my mind was splashing around in pleasant daydreams involving Mr Rikkard Ambrose’s pectorals. When it cautiously peeked its nose through the surface for the first time and smelled the cold air of reality, it was quite a shock to me.
What had just happened?
