Storm over the Caribbean

13. A Drop in the Bucket

Mr Rikkard Ambrose's hands moved up my leg, sending a tingle through me. His fingers began to caress my skin and, before I could stop it, a moan escaped my mouth as his long, dextrous digits slipped under my petticoat and started to...massage me?

What the heck?! Here I was, hot and sweaty in my underwear, right smack in the middle of a steamy jungle, practically unable to move, and his big idea was to massage me? Platonically?

I opened my mouth to give that son of a bachelor a piece of my mind, and—

"Ooooh!"

Dammit, that felt good! What was I going to say again?

"Lie back." I heard a low, distant rumble of a voice, like the murmur of the deep, arctic see. "Relax."

"Dts easy for you t' say," I slurred. "You—oooooh...!"

"I what?" came his voice again. Cool, calculating and composed, as if he weren't affected in the least. Bastard! "Did you say something, Mrs Ambrose?"

"I said—ooooh! Aaaah!"

Those massaging skills should be illegal! Where on earth did he learn that?

More importantly: on whom did he practice?

I opened my mouth. "Dicky darling...be a good husband and tell me w—bloody frigging hell!"

The moan that escaped me as he hit the knot in my muscles just right was probably audible three miles away. If a gorilla came in search of the female that had sounded the mating call, Mr Rikkard Ambrose would only have himself to blame.

"Does that feel good?" the son of a bachelor enquired. As if he didn't know! "Are your legs better now?"

"I...oh...hmm...yep, just like that, you..."

It was really impressive how eloquent I was becoming. I should start writing speeches someday.

Parting my lips, I tried desperately to squeeze out some more comprehensible words. Not that I was having much luck with it. I ended up lying in Mr Ambrose's arms like a limp noodle, all my muscles relaxed as if I'd been whacked over the head with Morpheus' personal parasol. Slowly, I drifted off. In some distant corner of my mind I noticed that, even now that I was unable to resist and was presenting myself to him practically on a silver platter, not once did his hands stray from the massage to more...interesting places. A moment earlier, I would have been pissed off about that, but now...

Now I just felt safe. Warm. Wonderful.

I was with a man in whose arms I could fall asleep without hesitation. A man who loved me. And right then, right there, I knew he would take care of me no matter what.

Maybe this little trip through the jungle wouldn't be so bad after all.

***

"Bluuurgh!"

I retract everything I said yesterday! Everything!

"You know," a cool voice came from behind me, "right now is not the best time to be regurgitating fluids."

Lifting my head, I glared back at him over my shoulder. "Oh, I'm so sorry! Next time I have to vomit from morning sickness, I'll swallow it right back down again!"

"Adequate."

"You—" But, unfortunately, I didn't get the chance to tell him what I thought of his amazing skills at understanding sarcasm. "Bleeeargh!"

"Come here."

His arm slid around me from behind, gently holding me, while, with the other hand, he tugged my hair out of my face.