by Robert Thier
No. No. No.
Yes. Yes. Yes!
‘Silence!’ I growled. But was it at her, or at the voices fiercely arguing in my head? In my…heart?
What are you doing? This is madness! Remember. Calm. Control. Get away from her, before it is too late! Before—
And then she started to kiss me back.
I had received a lot of kisses in my life. Of course, most of them had come from French business partners who wouldn’t let a little thing like an icy glare that threatened evisceration stand in the way of their treasured social customs. But still…it should count, correct? I had experience. This should be nothing out of the ordinary. Easy to deal with. Simple. Average.
So soft. Her lips are so soft…
So what? I owned a pillow factory!
And they could take a leaf out of her book. Or from her lips. Or…
No! Mine! All mine!
‘My little ifrit!’ The words were out of my mouth before I could hold them back. But…did I even want to?
‘You should take your own good advice,’ she shot back at me. ‘Shut up and kiss me!’
And for once I did what I had never ever done before. I did what I was told. Sliding my arms around her, I pulled her against me, hard, and kissed her. Kissed her for five seconds. Ten. Fifteen. Time. It suddenly seemed like such an insignificant little concept now that she was safe. Here. With me.
What happened to getting her off my horse?
She happened.
‘Thank you,’ her whisper drifted to my ears. ‘Thank you for coming for me.’
A tug. Painful. Deep in my chest.
Just a pulled muscle. That’s all. A pulled muscle.
Statistically speaking, it did seem remarkable, however, that those pulled muscles always seemed to appear whenever I was in the vicinity of Miss Lillian Linton. A statistic worthy of investigation.
‘I had no intentions of finding a new secretary,’ I told her. ‘Do you know what vacancy advertisements cost these days?’
Her face slowly rose from where it lay against my chest and I felt a sudden impulse to clutch her back against me.
Mine!
Then our eyes met, and I saw what I had been hoping to see. Whatever had happened, whatever Dalgliesh had done to her, it hadn’t broken her. It hadn’t even bent her. I saw fire in her eyes, burning more brightly than ever before.
Nonsense! Eyes cannot burn! It is a physical impossibility!
Except perhaps with her.
Her chin rose. ‘Let’s get out of here!’
It sounded suspiciously like an order. And for some inane reason, right then and there, I didn’t mind.
‘Agreed.’
Not wasting another millisecond, I pulled myself fully up into the saddle behind her. Very close behind her. A little gasp escaped her lips, and I felt my body stiffen in response.
Concentrate. Ride.
On second thought, thinking about riding might not be the best idea right now.
The horse. Just ride the horse.
Not listening to my head, my arm snaked around her, pulling her roughly against me. Her ears heated approximately three point five degrees, turning an intriguing shade of red. Was it because of me, or…
I glanced around.
My men were back from their scouting mission. They were gathered all around. Looking. At me. At me and her.
‘Miss Linton,’ I spoke, my voice at zero temperature, ‘is a gently bred lady of good family and impeccable reputation. She would never do anything so rash as to kiss a man in public. If anyone were to suggest differently, I would be…displeased. Do we understand each other?’
Heads nodded like mechanical marionettes.
‘Adequate. Well, gentlemen? What are you waiting for? Ride!’ Reaching around her to grab the reins, I gave a snap of my wrist. ‘Gee-up!’
Our equine transport accelerated immediately, rushing off across the plain, sending snow flying up right and left. The ice crystals danced in the air, and they were…
Beautiful?
It was simply frozen water. How could a phase of matter be beautiful?
Instinctively, my arm tightened around her.
Thunder enveloped us. Glancing to the side, I saw my men catching up and surrounding us from every angle. There were dozens of men around us, not to speak of the horses, and the animals that hid in the forest. But right then and there, it felt like the only two people existing in this world were she and I.
And that’s an objectively stupid feeling. Most importantly, because it is a feeling. Stop! Think, don’t feel!
It suddenly didn’t appear as easy as it always had. Not with her in my arms. I was just about to try and start to fight down my irrational emotions—then she turned, and looked up at me.
‘How did you find me?’
By removing anything in my way. Permanently.
‘I had sent one of my mother’s servants with a letter to Newcastle requesting reinforcements from my agents and additional hired personnel as soon as Dalgliesh arrived. They arrived shortly after…after you…’
‘After I disappeared.’
My head jerked once in the affirmative.
‘The room didn’t look as if there had been a struggle. I surmised that the maid had been in league with Dalgliesh…’ -the little fool— ‘…and that she would be aiming to make a quick getaway after getting paid. So I sent three of my men to lie in wait on the road to the closest port city, and another three on the road south to London. It wasn’t long before she appeared.’
‘You have her?’
Another woman’s voice might have contained concern or fear for another female, even though that female had stabbed her in the back. Not her. All I could hear was determination for vengeance.
Maybe she’s not such an illogical choice after all.
‘Karim does. He’s explaining the errors of her ways to her.’
‘Oh.’ A corner of her mouth quirked up and I felt the sudden urge to reach out and touch it. ‘Oh dear.’
‘Indeed.’
I didn’t reach out. Instead, I just held her. I held her as we raced across the snowy fields, in the cold, on horses that had cost a lot of money, with people who had cost a lot of money to hire, all to retrieve a woman who could bring me no possible monetary gain, and…and I had never been…
What was the word?
Happier.
What in Mammon’s name is going on?
‘Bridge ahead, Sir!’ a voice suddenly tore me from my thoughts. Glancing up, I saw one of my men pointing ahead, at a small bridge spanning a half-frozen river. A bridge I hadn’t noticed.
Again!
Since when did I have to have other people alert me to my surroundings?
Simple. Since her.
It was correct. She was interfering with my mind. She was turning everything on its head. First my office, then my life, and now, my…my…
I had to get rid of her!
Instinctively, my arm tightened around her, and I urged my horse forward, towards the bridge. Towards safety.
‘Developed an interest in medieval architecture, have you, Mr Ambrose?’ the impudent female in front of me enquired.
‘No. This is where we are meeting up with Karim and the other men.’
‘The other men?’
‘The maid could not provide any information on whether Dalgliesh had already removed you from the hut she saw you in. So I sent some men to Dalgliesh’s closest holding, just in case.’
Just in case. Hire men, just in case. Pay money, just in case. What is happening to me?
‘Halt!’
Was it a command to my men or to myself?
Raising a hand, I brought my men to a stop. Not letting her go for a minute, I slid out of the saddle, setting her down on the ground.
‘Spread out!’ I commanded. And that only applies to my men, Miss Linton, not to you. ‘Dalgliesh’s men may follow our trail and decide to attack. If they do, I want ample warning. Form a perimeter. Keep your guns handy, and be ready
to fight.’
‘Yes, Sir! You heard him, men. Go!’
The riders galloped off in different directions, leaving her and me alone in front of the bridge.
‘Come.’ I nodded at the bridge. Taking a firm hold of her hand, I strode forward until we stood in the very centre of the bridge, far away from either riverbank. The safest point. In the icy cold, I could almost feel her, warm and soft, standing only inches away. The urge to turn my head to the right, to look at her, was almost irresistible.
Almost.
I didn’t turn. Instead, I looked out over the ice of the river. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw her slide her hands under her armpits. Was she cold?
And why precisely do you care?
A stiff breeze swept over us, and I forced my eyes forward again, pretending I was alone. Pretending I was at the prow of a ship, sailing far, far away from any—
‘Bloody hell! You couldn’t have found a warm spot to wait, could you?’
Did you really think you could pretend for long around her?
‘At the time, Miss Linton, I had slightly more pressing matters on my mind.’
Such as whether or not you would survive, for instance.
But now she was safe. Now she was standing right beside me. And she was cold.
Without even giving it a thought, I lifted one arm, offering.
Offering something for nothing. Something really is wrong with you.
Without a word, she slid under my arm, pressing her body close to mine. And it suddenly occurred to me that, perhaps, I was not offering something in return for nothing. Perhaps I would be receiving something very valuable in return.
Time ticked by. We just stood there, looking out over the ice-covered river. One minute. Two minutes. Three. With every passing moment, the warmth between us spread, blossoming from a pile of embers into a crackling fire. Four minutes. Five.
Say something!
Why? Why should I want to say something?
Because! Because you have to know she wasn’t…
I swallowed, hard.
‘Miss Linton?’
‘Yes, Mr Ambrose, Sir?’
‘While Dalgliesh had you in his power, did he…do anything? Hurt you in any way?’
My arm around her shoulders tightened as one great, terrifying question pounded in my mind.
What will you do if she answers yes?
Well, for the sake of Dalgliesh and everyone in my way, let’s hope I would never find out.
Her lips parted—but no sound came out. Tense like wire, I awaited her answer.
‘No, he didn’t harm me.’ You’re in luck, Dalgliesh. You get to live another day. ‘But he did talk quite a lot.’
I had just been about to relax a little. At her words, I was suddenly again stiff as a board.
‘Whatever he told you was probably lies.’
There was a pause. Normally, it was I who made people uncomfortable through long silences. Being on the receiving end of this method was…unexpected.
‘Oh? So you didn’t run away from home as a boy because of an argument with your father, then?’
Did I think I had been tense before? I had been mistaken. My arm tightened around her shoulders like a vice, as if I wanted to keep her from running away. Maybe that was exactly what I wanted.
‘It was somewhat more complicated than that, Miss Linton.’
She was silent again for a little while. But this time the silence somehow wasn’t uncomfortable in the least. Instead, it was…warm. Reassuring.
Soft fingers touched mine. I sucked in a breath and instinctively started to pull away—then stopped. Her smaller hand closed around mine and gave a single, simple little squeeze.
One.
Just one squeeze.
That was all.
That was enough. More than enough. Something inside me shifted.
‘I said it once already, I believe,’ came her soft voice from beside me, ‘but…thank you. I might have gotten out of there by myself—but then again, I might not have. If Dalgliesh had come back with enough men and searched the woods…’
She didn’t finish the sentence.
Fortunately.
If she had, I didn’t know whether I would have been able to stop myself from swinging myself back onto my horse and riding out there to join my men. Join them in the quest to find Dalgliesh, get a hold of him and squeeze his throat until—
Until what?
Until he was dead?
That might be a worthy goal, but spur-of-the-moment strangulation was not the way to a achieve it. There was only one thing I should squeeze right now. One thing I wanted to squeeze. So I squeezed Miss Lilly Linton’s hand. It felt right. It felt as it belonged in mine.
‘I…had to come.’
The words fell out of my mouth as if it were a gash, a wound I couldn’t close. One that I didn’t want to close.
‘Really?’
‘Yes.’ I hesitated for a moment. But even now that all those insane, irrational words were falling from my lips, I couldn’t do one thing: procrastinate. My mouth snapped open again, and words started pouring out. ‘I am not a man who often expresses his emotions, Miss Linton.’
‘You don’t say?’
She was making fun of me? She dared to make fun of me now of all times? Now, when I was getting ready to…?
What exactly was I getting ready to do?
My mouth seemed to have quite definite opinions on the matter. Without my say-so, it started speaking. ‘I must admit I was…somewhat concerned for you.’
‘Somewhat concerned? Dear God, really?’
She was making fun of me. And, to judge by the sparkle in her eyes, she was having considerable fun doing it. The insolent little…!
I whirled to face her, my eyes alight. ‘Dammit! Do not joke, Miss Linton!’
She blinked up at me, so sweet, so innocent, so completely full of colloquial manure. ‘I wouldn’t dare!’
Stepping forward, I reached out until I had captured her face with my hand. The logical, cold part of my mind was shouting commands to let go, to step back, to keep silent—but for once, I could not keep my mouth shut. Words kept pouring out. Words from deep in my chest where, once upon a time, there had been a living, beating heart. ‘I…I might be slightly…irrationally infatuated with you.’
She put a hand to her chest. ‘Irrationally infatuated? Dear me!’
My jaw clenched hard. How could she still be ridiculing me? I was tearing myself open for her!
Admittedly, I was doing it with a precision scalpel, creating an opening of roughly two point twenty-one millimetres, but that should be enough for anyone, shouldn’t it? It was perfectly clear what I really meant!
But all she did was stand there, grinning up at me with a knowing smile, her head cocked in that way that made me want to…made me want to…
‘All right, all right!’ I snapped. ‘I may even have certain…impulses towards you that border on caring about you!’
There! If that wasn’t romantic, I didn’t know what was.
‘You don’t say?’ She raised an eyebrow. She. Dared. To. Raise. An. Eyebrow. ‘Well, I am so glad to hear that you feel a certain amount of friendship towards me.’
Friendship.
Friendship?
I did my best to nail her to the spot with the pure force of my eyes—a skill that had me served well during many a business negotiation. Right here and now, it didn’t even put a dent in her grin.
‘Friendship is not quite the right word, Miss Linton,’ I squeezed out between clenched teeth, every word a curse and a plea at the same time. ‘My impulses towards you…they might go slightly beyond the platonic.’
‘Oh, so they are Aristotelian?’
Was it legal to sue a woman for damages for excessive verbal torture?
I would have to put my legal team on that.
‘Mr Lin-’ I swallowed, biting back the address, which, by now I had to admit, was nothing but a farce. One I was more than ready to disp
ense with. ‘I mean Miss Linton, we are not discussing philosophy here!’
She batted her eyelashes at me. Batted her eyelashes. Oh yes indeed, my legal team would be getting work soon. ‘Indeed? Then pray tell, what are we discussing?’
‘I…’ My voice failed. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. It was such an illogical concept. Such a madness! ‘I…’
‘You can say it, you know,’ she was kind enough to inform me. ‘The word isn’t poisonous.’
Isn’t it?
I had a feeling she was going to be the death of me.
‘I…have feelings towards you.’
She inclined her head sombrely. ‘Clearly. I knew that from the first day from the way you shouted at me and pelted me with threats.’
Someone had told me once that counting down from ten helped to calm people. So far, I had never had a need to test the theory. Now, however…
Ten…nine…eight…
Do not strangle. Repeat. Do not strangle.
…seven…six…five…
Repeat. Do not strangle. This is an order.
…four…three…tw—
Oh, Bugger!
‘Not those kinds of feelings!’
She blinked up at me, eyes so innocent, so warm, like molten chocolate. ‘What kind, then?’
‘I feel…affection towards you.’
‘You’re nearly there.’ Her smile widened. ‘Just four little letters. The word starts with L. Go on. You can do it.’
My eyes narrowed to slits. ‘You’re enjoying this, Miss Linton, aren’t you?’
‘Very much so.’
‘Oh, to hell with it!’ Dropping my hand from her face, I grabbed hold of her and pulled. A moment later, my lips were on hers, and I was kissing her. Kissing her as if my life depended on it.
Which it does.
This girl…no, this woman had turned my ordered world upside down. And somehow I knew that, if I tried to force it back right side up again, it would be empty. And most likely, I wouldn’t be able to lease the empty space out for three shillings per square yard.
Breaking our kiss, I gazed down at my little ifrit, and whispered, ‘I love you!’
THE MIDDLE
Dedication
I would like to dedicate this story to all my trilingual readers who figured out all by themselves what Prince Utairah Jafri fi al Qurram Qumrah III, heir to the principality of Bakavāsa means. I salute you and your language skills.