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What had I done?
Oh my God!
Had I just really rid myself of nearly all my clothes…and then, with him…and he had grabbed me and… with his lips, and his hands, and his…Oh my God!
What if Karim hadn’t come when he had? I didn’t know much about what went on between a man and a woman, but I did know that the side-effects included bellyswelling and babyproducing. Me? Have a baby? I shuddered at the very thought. To swell up like a balloon, suffer through incredible pain, and then, as a reward, be saddled with a screeching little monster that demanded all my attention and time? No, thank you! I already had one monster demanding all my time, and he, thankfully, didn’t screech!
Not that the idea of having a child didn’t somewhat appeal to me, in the abstract. It would be gratifying to have someone to whom I could pass on my beliefs in justice and equality. The problem was that, before we could get to justice and equality, we would have to get through a lot of smelly diapers. And that thought I didn’t relish at all.
Besides…what if it were a boy, and he grew up to be just like his father? The idea that I would have to deal with two tyrants at the same time, and they wouldn’t even need to pay me for it!
And aren’t you forgetting something, Lilly? What about the reaction of your dear aunt and uncle?
My knees nearly buckled under me - and this time, it wasn’t from overpowering passion. My aunt, Hester Mahulda Brank, was a social-climbing vulture with the heart of a frost giant and the conscience of a serial killer. Her husband gave even Mr Ambrose a run for his money in how much he detested spending any. Together, they would provide about as much helpful support to a struggling young mother as Judas did to Jesus. Only, they would probably be smart and demand more than thirty pieces of silver.
And as for making it on my own…to do that, I needed a job. One that I doubted very much I would be able to keep once I was six months pregnant. Mr Ambrose was allowing me to work for him in male disguise. I suspected he would be less amenable if I tried to work for him in male disguise with a huge pregnant belly bulging under my peacock vest. That sort of thing tended to hint at femininity.
Maybe you wouldn’t have had to work at all. It would have been his child, too, after all. Maybe he would simply have helped you out of the goodness of his heart?
Yep. That would have been so like him.
And if he would have? If he really would have?
Then I would have been in even bigger trouble. Because if Mr Rikkard Ambrose, against all the dictates of his nature, would actually have helped me without expecting anything in return, then that would have meant that there was more to this than the mad passion of two cooked brains in exotic surroundings. Much, much more. In this heat, Mr Ambrose might melt so far as to take advantage of me - but let me take advantage of him? Let someone get at his precious purse? Never!
If he had opened it out of his own free will, just for me…
I couldn’t even finish the thought. A shiver ran down my back at the weighty implications of such an action.
And you, Lilly? You keep wondering what he might do for you. But if push came to shove, what would you do for him?
A good question. So good in fact that, at the moment, I didn’t have an answer.
But there was one question to which the answer was crystal-clear.
Could I let something like this ever happen again?
No!
No, no, no, nononononono, and again, no!
I thought of the wild, irrational passion I had felt a few hours ago. It seemed very far away now. When logically weighed against all the ramifications, all the problems, the unresolved feelings and unspoken words that awaited us if this repeated itself, it didn’t seem like much. No, a few moments of passion definitely were not enough reason to risk my safety, security and future, let alone my self-esteem. Right then and there, I came to a firm resolution that Mr Ambrose and I were finished!
But then I felt Mr Ambrose’s gaze on my neck and remembered his hard body pressed up against mine, and I realised that some things might be even firmer than my firm resolution.
*~*~**~*~*
‘That’s it,’ I said, pointing excitedly ahead. ‘That’s the river!’
Mr Ambrose appeared beside me in a blink. ‘I can hardly see it yet through the trees. Are you sure it’s the same one that is mentioned in the manuscript?’
I bloody well hope so, or we’ll get hopelessly lost and we’ll end up getting eaten by cannibals somewhere in this green stew pot.
‘Yes! Absolutely.’
‘I see.’
‘We follow the river for ten miles, then find our next point of orientation.’
