36. Confession by Installments

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For a moment, one single, solitary moment, Mr Ambrose didn't move. Then he disappeared from the window, and a moment later, the door was torn open – literally. The flimsy thing flew right off its mouldy hinges and clattered to the floor somewhere inside. Mr Ambrose didn't seem to care. He was striding across the snow-covered yard with singular purpose, all his focus, all his icy energy, all his power concentrated on one thing – me.

He stopped a few paces away.

'Miss Linton.'

Just those two words. Nothing more. But the meaning vibrating in every syllable...

I swallowed.

'You took your time, Sir.'

His eyes met mine, delving, devouring, claiming.

'You seem to have managed well enough on your own.'

'Yes, I did, didn't I? Maybe I should just ride away and leave you here. It wasn't a particularly good rescue, you know.'

'Miss Linton?'

'Yes, Mr Ambrose, Sir?'

'Get off my horse.'

I smiled. 'I don't think so. I think I'll–'

But that was as far as I got. Because in the very next moment, Mr Rikkard Ambrose crossed the remaining distance between us. His arms lunged up. His foot found the stirrup. And the next thing I knew, he was half dragging himself up, half dragging me down. He didn't wait for either of us to make it the whole way before his lips claimed mine.

'Silence!' he growled against my mouth.

I didn't usually hold with men telling me to shut up – or telling me anything, for that matter. But with him kissing me like that...I might just make an exception. His mouth was a searing brand on mine. Waves of heat coursed through me, interlaced with shivers all over my body. How a man this cold could ignite such a fire inside of me was a mystery to me – but he did. Oh, how he did.

'My little ifrit,' he breathed against my lips.

'You should take your own good advice,' I shot back. 'Shut up and kiss me!'

I would never have thought Mr Rikkard Ambrose was one for taking orders. But this one he obeyed, fast, hard, and fierce. Strong arms encircled me, pulling me against a chest so hard you could break a chisel on it, nearly squeezing all the air out of me. In his kiss, his embrace, and every hard line of his body, I could feel the tension, screaming to be released. The realisation hit me like a boulder in the face: he had been scared. Scared for me.

I hugged him close and pressed my face into his chest before he could read the knowledge in my eyes.

'Thank you,' I murmured. 'Thank you for coming for me.'

In response, his grip tightened even more. 'I had no intentions of finding a new secretary. Do you know what vacancy advertisements cost these days?'

Glancing over his shoulder at the small army of riders approaching from every direction, I privately thought to myself that it would probably cost less than an escort of three dozen heavily armed men. However, I didn't voice this thought aloud. There were more important things to take care of right now.

Like continuing to kiss him?

Well, yes, that too. But first...

Lifting my face from his chest, I looked straight into his eyes. Our faces were so close that our foreheads touched. It felt...right.

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