The Final Storm

17. Heat in the Jungle

"So, Mrs Ambrose...you love screwing Britons, do you?"

Turning around to face that all-too-familiar cold voice, I hoped against hope that I would see something nice and harmless, like a cuddly talking snow rabbit. Instead, I found myself only inches away from an irate Mr Rikkard Ambrose.

"Um..." Clearing my throat, I gave him a nervous smile. "Would it help if I said I like doing it with one of them in particular?"

The answer to that came in the form of an inarticulate growl. A moment later, I found my horse being led off the path and into the dense jungle.

"Wh-what are you doing?" I hissed, glancing over my shoulder. Had anyone noticed? Was anyone following? What if our three new friends saw us abscond? "Hey, didn't you hear? What do you think you are doing?"

He didn't answer me. Instead, he pulled me deeper into the trees. A moment later, I found myself pulled off my horse and onto his, my face only inches away from him.

"Which?" he demanded.

"Huh?"

Pulling off his fake beard with another growl, Mr Ambrose threw it over his shoulder and grabbed hold of my face, his icy eyes boring into mine.

"Which Briton?"

My cheeks flushed. Suddenly, I felt glad that I was still wearing a fake beard so he couldn't see my face—and yet, some part of me wished I wasn't wearing the blasted ugly thing.

"Y-you should know," I mumbled, trying to avoid his eyes. "You were there."

He seemed to have read my mind because, the very next moment, my fake beard suffered the same fate as his when he tore it off and flung it into the bushes. An instant later, his lips slammed down on mine. And then...he didn't just kiss me. He devoured me. Sitting on the same saddle as him without a hair's breadth between us, I could feel every rock-hard inch of his body press into mine. With every move, every single little shift of the horse below us, sparks were ignited in my body, dancing everywhere till they set my heart on fire.

"W-we really shouldn't!" I somehow managed to squeeze a few words past his voracious lips. "If the others realise we're gone—"

"The others?" Pressed against him as I was, I could feel the deep rumble of his voice throughout my whole body. "Thinking about other men again?"

"No, of course not, I—"

I was silenced by a single finger pressed against my lips. Two dark, sea-coloured eyes bored straight into me.

"Let's get one thing clear, Mrs Ambrose. You're mine. You don't ever hint at being interested in other men. Not even in jest. Understood?"

I swallowed. At any other time, I might have responded with a joke or jab, but...that look in his eyes. Not cold. Not even commanding. Just deadly serious, like this was the most important thing in the world to him. No...like I was the most important thing in the world to him.

Without hesitation, I nodded.

His eyes flashed. "Adequate."

Pulling me into his arms again, he claimed my mouth for another long, lingering kiss. When we finally broke apart, my heart was hammering like an industrial forge. Swallowing hard, I distanced myself as far as the saddle would allow, lest I succumb to the temptation that was right in front of me.

"We...we should probably go. Catch up before they get suspicious."

"Indeed." His fierce, dark eyes didn't move away from mine for an instant. "But before we go, there is one thing we must do."