AllFreeNovel
Share Us
His dark eyes met mine. Or at least I thought they did. It was a bit hard to tell through the increasing shower of mud. ‘I intend to Mr Linton. I-’
He was abruptly interrupted when a great bucketload full of dirty water hit him straight in the face.
‘Pfft! Brrz! Rg!’
His hand abruptly let go of my thigh and suddenly I was falling. Something hit the back of my head, and then everything was blue and brown and green and I couldn’t breathe anymore. A fish darted past me, casually waving its fins at me. I didn’t really feel like being courteous and waving back.
‘Bfft!’ Resurfacing, I spat water and mud, and probably a few smaller fishes. ‘What the hell…?’
But nobody heard my words. They were drowned out by the roar of the waterfall and the background music of a torrential downpour. With a speed only a rainforest can offer its guests, it had started pouring. Water hammered down on the little pool, turning its surface into a turbulent, liquid drumhead. The waterfall was quickly turning from a sprinkly little fountain into a sledgehammer made of water.
No! No, we’re not giving up! Not for a bit of bloody water!
Not waiting for his opinion on the matter, I grabbed Mr Ambrose’s belt buckle and pulled. Damn, those things were difficult to operate! How did men ever get them open?
I had just one second for wistful thoughts of my corset laces before a pair of strong hands grabbed me and pulled me up, away from the buckle. Mr Ambrose claimed my mouth with need, desire, and dirty water on his lips. Somehow, he still managed to taste delicious.
‘Get that damn buckle open!’ I demanded against his lips. ‘I want to-ppft!’
I gagged on a mouthful of mud.
‘Yes!’ he growled! ‘One second and I’ll-Rrrg!’
Bloody hell! It was getting increasingly difficult to whisper sweet, hot nothings at each other without getting a mouthful of fertiliser.
Mr Ambrose’s fingers released me, fumbling at the buckle.
‘Do it!’ I commanded. ‘I want you so badl-mmpf! Grk!’
Damn! How come heroines in romance novels never had to deal with this kind of stuff?
‘Doing…best…I…can! I am-ppft!’
‘What’s the - mfff! - matter?’
‘Damn…slippery thing…won’t…opmpff! Grks!’
‘Do you need a - pfft! - manual?’
‘Mind your - Grk! Mpf! - language!’
Exasperated, I rolled my eyes upward - which was why I was the first to see the piece of driftwood tipping over the edge of the waterfall and hurtling down towards us.
‘Look out!’
I shoved Mr Ambrose in the chest - which had about as much effect as a chick shoving a Rottweiler. I catapulted myself back, landing hard against the rock.
‘What is the meaning of this, Mr Linton?’ Mr Ambrose demanded, regarding me through the downpour with narrowed eyes. ‘Have you lost your mi-’
That was when the piece of driftwood hit his head with a dull thunk.
‘Oh my God, Sir! Are you all right, Sir?’
‘Ng…!’ he said - and collapsed into the pool.
Farewell
Pulling that blasted granite block of a man to the shore took me nearly half an hour - partly because he weighed about a ton, partly because I was so busy cursing every atom of water in the pond and the waterfall. But the most difficult problem was the man himself. No matter that he was only half-conscious and bleeding from the head, he was apparently quite well enough to know he did not wish to be saved from drowning by a girl. I pointed out that while I worked for him, I technically was no girl, correct? He had said so himself, after all.
