Silence Is Golden (Storm and Silence 3)

‘You should be more careful, Mr Linton.’

‘To hell with being careful! To hell with you!’

‘I told you once already,’ he growled. ‘The road to hell is paved with good intentions. And right now, I don’t have any of those.’

He tightened his grip and pounced. A moment later, our mouths met and we came together in a hot, irresistible mix of blood, sweat and need. The stuff that sin is made of. My lips fought with his, struggling for dominance, neither of us willing to give up. His tongue entered the battle, sliding to the corner of my mouth, tasting my blood. I felt my knees grow weak.

Kiss!

Kill!

Kiss!

Ki-

Oh, to hell with it! You can always do that later!

Giving up the struggle, I mashed myself up against him, throwing my arms around his neck. Only when the blade thudded against the wood of the tree behind him did I realise I was still holding the knife.

I grinned against his lips. Pulling back the blade, I slowly slid it down the side of his head until it rested below his chin. Then I broke the kiss.

‘Don’t ever do something like this again?’ I whispered. ‘Or next time I’ll take the gag and make you choke on it! Understood?’

He growled. ‘You’re a dangerous woman.’

‘Yes, I am. Don’t you forget it!’

His eyes, dark as a thunderstorm on the open sea, bored into me. ‘I wasn’t talking about the knife.’

His hand, still on my face, gently slid to my mouth, caressing my lips. ‘I was talking about this.’ Moving on, his fingers pointed at my eyes. ‘And those.’ Moving again, he slid down his hand away from my face, until it rested on my chest, just above my heart. ‘And, most of all, this.’

Oh God…

Suddenly, the rage, the violence - it was all gone. But the need for him? That was suddenly so intense I couldn’t bear it. I felt a painful tugging in my heart.

‘You’re dangerous, too,’ I whispered, before my courage left me. ‘More dangerous than I could ever have imagined.’

‘Indeed?’ He cocked his head, and his arrogant eyes glittered in the darkness. ‘Are you afraid, Mr Linton?’

‘Ha! Of you? Never!’

‘Is that so…?’ Leaning closer, his lips skimmed over mine once more. A ragged sound of need escaped my throat, and the knife slipped from my limp fingers. He gave an arrogant male chuckle that made me instantly wish I was still holding it. ‘You aren’t afraid at all of what will happen if you let yourself fall? If you forget everything else, and let go completely?’

Mary, mother of God…! What was he talking about?

Whatever it was - a tiny spark of fear did ignite in me. Just enough to make everything that much more thrilling. Damn him!

‘Well? Are you?’

‘N-no!’

He laughed again. It suddenly occurred to me - had I ever heard him laugh before? I didn’t think so. He was Mr Rikkard Ambrose, for crying out loud! The probability of him finding anything funny was about as high as the probability of daisies and rosebushes in the arctic tundra.

‘You know,’ his voice tickled my ear, ‘you aren’t the only one who has their moments of…well, I wouldn’t say fear. Let’s say…agitation.’

‘Oh?’ I perked up. This was news to me.

‘For a moment there,’ he murmured against my skin, ‘when Silveira captured you, you almost had me worried.’