Storm over the Caribbean

26. The Skills of Mr Rikkard Ambrose

My blissful sleep was abruptly interrupted by the banging of a ladle on a cooking pot. Grumbling, I snuggled closer to Mr Rikkard Ambrose, whose naked chest—

My brain froze.

Wait a minute. Me, lying snuggled up against Mr Ambrose's naked chest? While trying to pretend to be a man in a bloody pirate camp?

Crap!

Swearing, I leapt up, quite an impressive feat considering the weight currently stuffed into my belly.

"Oy! You bloody lazybones!" roared a voice from outside. "Get your arses off the ground! We've got work to do!"

Crap, crap, crap! Triple crap with a pirate hat on top!

Racing around the tent, I scrambled to put my clothes back on. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Mr Rikkard Ambrose still prone on the ground, unmoving.

Oh, for Pete's sake! Now, of all times, he decides to sleep in?

Desperately tugging on my trousers, I stumbled towards my shirt while, outside, the camp came to life. Two seconds later, I was struggling to put on my shirt while stumbling back in the other direction towards my shoes. In passing, I gave Mr Ambrose a loving kick in the kidneys.

"Wake up!" I hissed. "You've got to get out!"

"Is that any way to treat your husband?"

"Would you like to find out what I'd do to a naked man who I find in my bed and who isn't my husband?"

That got him out of bed fairly quickly. Though it also might have had something to do with the footsteps approaching from outside.

"Out!" I hissed. "Out, now!"

Eyes boring into me, he stepped towards me.

"Didn't you hear me? You've gotta get ou—mmmmphh!"

His lips crashed down on mine in a mind-melting kiss. Strong arms drew me into a tight embrace. His tongue delved into my mouth in a merciless attack that made my spine tingle and my toes curl. One second. Two seconds. Three.

Then, suddenly, he was gone, leaving me breathless. I blinked, looking around—but all I could see of him was the back of the tent, fluttering shut in his wake.

A moment later, Jackal stuck his head through the tent flap, a frown on his bony face. "Are you all right, Freddy? Thought I heard someone groaning in here."

"Y-yes." Clearing my throat, I did my very best to sound magnificently manly. Not at all like a woman who'd just had the life kissed out of her. "I'm perfectly fine."

"Well, then get moving! People are waiting for breakfast, you know?"

Oh yes. I was the cook for a whole camp full of hungry, hung-over pirates. Lovely.

Was it too late to become a housewife?

Patience, Lilly. Patience. You'll get out of here. And then you'll make Mr Rikkard Ambrose cook all meals for three months straight. Dressed in a flowery apron. Only a flowery apron.

"Freddy? Freddy!"

"Uh...oh. What?" I blinked at the pirate.

"Are you all right? You looked out of it for a second there. And you were drooling."

"Ehem, I...I was thinking of the meal I'm going to make. Yes, exactly! I was thinking of some, err...juicy bacon."

"Great!" Beaming, he clapped and stepped back. "I'll tell the others you're gonna get started right away. I can't wait to bite into that bacon."