After the Storm

18. Newcastle upon Tyne

"That was not a compliment, Mr Linton."

"Hey, I'm an optimist."

"Indeed. Now sit down. And that applies to you Karim."

"Yes Sahib." He replied gruffly and plopped down grouchily.

"Mr Linton?"

"Yes, sir?"

"I said sit."

"I heard you the first time."

"Then why aren't you doing it?" Annoyance creeped into his cool tone.

I crossed my arms. "I simply don't feel like it. My ass is sore from sitting."

"Do I look like I care about what your gluteus maximus feels? No? So sit."

I opened my mouth to exercise my right as a free person (as free as a woman disguised as a man could get), when the infernal metal transportation gave a great jerk to the right. I was sent flying -- into Mr Ambrose.

I screamed and let out a loud grunt as I crashed into a solid body. Why did I have such a knack for falling on him?

Instinctively, two arms wrapped around me.

The train gave another great tilt, forcing me to press heavily against his hard figure. A part of me cursed the new invention to hell while the other part of me silently thanked it. It wasn't everyday that I got to get pressed up against a wealthy and good looking man in his twenties.

Feminist! You're a feminist, remember?

Feminist or not, I wasn't immune to the fact that I was practically grinding against a man, and not just any man. My body was gyrating against Mr Ambrose's, thanks to the violent movements of the train. I couldn't even get up!

"You should be more careful, Mr Linton." His voice didn't sound as hard as usual. It was hoarse and almost...gentle.

All the wind had been knocked out of me, hence all I did, all I could do, was gasp for air.

He smells nice.

I took in another deep breath.

"Mr Linton, what are you doing?"

"Breathing." I inhaled deeply. "Breathing you in."

"Oh."

That came out sounding creepy, you idiot! It had sounded much better in my head.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

He was clearly not doing nothing. His hand was resting at a very dangerous spot on my backdoor. I tried to dismiss that as an accident.

The train had ceased its mad rocking, but neither of us made a move to pull away. Instead, we studied each other.

He was literally flawless. I had never taken the time to truly observed him up close. And I had to admit, his face could have been carved by the gods themselves -- high cheekbones, sharp jawline that could most likely cut diamonds, a stright nose and perfectly symmetrical features. Not to forget his dark eyes that could swallow my sanity whole.

I did spot a few tiny freckles sparsely distributed across his face, mostly on his nose, but that did not detract a whit from his beauty.

"Ahem."

I leapt away from Mr Ambrose as Karim reminded us of his presence.

"It's rude to interrupt!" I snapped. Didn't he have any manners?

Mr Ambrose's massive body guard narrowed his eyes. He jumped up indignantly and pointed at me. "What did I tell you Sahib? This ifrit has seduced you with its dark magic! We have to get rid of it!"