Adaira felt the captain's lips meet hers, and everything else evaporated from her mind. Thoughts. Memories. Worries for the future. Nothing of it mattered now, as long as she could feel his lips on hers and his arms wrapped around her waist. Nothing mattered as long as he looked at her with those sparkling eyes full of mischief that promised a future together. A future that would never be boring.
Breaking their kiss, his lips started to move down over her cheek, along her neck and towards areas that had always been strictly off limits for any man, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Adaira felt the blood rush to her head. Had...had he really been serious before? When he mentioned that bedroom?
"I...I'm not sure I'm ready to go that far, yet," she whispered, hating how weak her voice sounded. "We...we can find a bedroom if you really want, but..."
"Silly girl." Glancing up at her from beneath his dark lashes, the captain gazed into her eyes in a way that made her heart melt. "Don't you know that I was just teasing you before?"
"Y-you were?" Relief, mingled with a hint of disappointment, spread throughout Adaira's body. "Really?"
"Really." Reaching up, he gently stroked her cheek with a thumb. "Like I said, we don't need a bedroom for that kind of thing. Isn't there a convenient table nearby?"
"You...!" Adaira aimed a stomp at the scoundrel's toes, only for him to promptly avoid it. "You abominable lout!"
"Yes, darling?" He enquired, completely unrepentant.
"You...you..."
"...are too handsome to resist? I know." He stroked her cheek again, uncaring of her renewed attempts to squash his toes. "In all honesty, though...I would never do something like that. I would never ask something of you that you are not ready for. And besides..." All humour vanished from his eyes and he stared at her with such a serious gaze that it made her foot freeze in mid-air. "I intend to spend the rest of my life with you, Miss Adaira Louise Jannet Melanie Georgette Ambrose. I'll be damned if anyone, including me, lays a finger on you before I put a ring on your finger."
Adaira felt her knees go weak.
He remembered my names! He actually remembered all of my names!
For someone like her, with half a dozen names that even her relatives got mixed up sometimes, that meant more than an "I love you."
"Although," he added with a smirk, "That only applies to laying fingers on you. Not lips."
Then he bent forward and kissed her once again.
Under the gentle caress of his lips, Adaira melted into his arms. All the worries that had plagued her just a few moments ago dissipated, leaving her only with the feeling of bliss that came with being his. Being held by him and knowing they would be together forever and ever and ever. She couldn't imagine anything that would make her happier, or any man that was more kind, loving, gentle—
Just then, he pushed her over onto the floor and jumped on top of her.
"Ugh! What the—?!"
"Shh! Be quiet!" Once again, he sealed her lips—only this time with a hand instead of his mouth. This beast! Didn't he say he wouldn't do anything she wasn't ready for? She was about to try and protest, or maybe bite the scheming, lying scoundrel, when she suddenly heard it. The sound of marching feet, fast approaching.
From where they lay on the floor, Adaira looked up at the window, only a few feet above them. Her breath caught as several tall figures suddenly appeared on the other side of the glass. They marched past, eyes straight ahead. Adaira didn't dare to move a single inch and just lay there, eyes fixed on the warm, brown orbs only inches away from her that seemed to provide the only bit of comfort. Three seconds that seemed like an eternity passed like that, filled with the sound of marching feet. Then four. Five. Finally...
Silence.
And not the brotherly kind.
"Are...are they gone?"
Adaira's voice was no more than a whisper. Partly due to caution, but mostly because Captain Carter's hand was still clamped over her mouth.
"I think so." Slowly, he removed his hand and gazed into her eyes. "I think we should retreat into the cellar for the time being. Agreed?"
One corner of Adaira's mouth crooked up. "Agreed."
"Very well. Then we—"
He cut off abruptly when the door to the room opened and our host stepped in. He froze, blinked, and stared down at their two figures lying on the floor on top of each other.
"Um, am I interrupting something...again?"
Adaira flushed. "This isn't...and what you saw before wasn't... This is a complete coincidence!"
"It is indeed." Captain Carter nodded sombrely. "We are always coincidentally cavorting with each other when other people enter the room. It's a bad habit. We're trying to quit, but umph—!"
He cut off abruptly when Adaira elbowed him in the ribs and thereby sent him rolling off her.
"Shut up, you!"
"Not even married yet and already suffering from violence," he said in a mournful tone. "This doesn't bode well."
Their host pointed at his still-bandaged head. "I can lend you some bandages if you would like."
"Why, thank you. It's so nice to meet a fellow sufferer."
"Stop it, the two of you!" came a chiding voice from the door. Looking over, Adaira spotted the lady of the house, giving the two men a meaningful look. "Let's get two of you back into the cellar. From what I can tell, they're doing a last sweep of the streets before calling off the search. We wouldn't want you to be found at the last moment, would we?"
"No." Shaking her head, Adaira quickly rose from the floor and made her way towards the door. "We most definitely wouldn't want that."
***
"Where is she? Tell me! Where. Is. She?!"
Mercilessly, Mr Ambrose stared down at the man in front of him—or rather, what used to be a man, and now was a collection of bruises.
"Sh-she?" the unfortunate fellow croaked. "Who are you talking about?"
"The spy!" Grabbing the rebel soldier by the front of his uniform, Mr Ambrose shook the unfortunate fellow like a piggy bank the contents of which he wanted to ascertain. "The spy you've been chasing!"
"Th-the spy? Sh-she? But...?"
An extremely confused expression appeared on the rebel's face. And, to be honest, I couldn't blame him.
It had taken Mr Ambrose and me a while to figure out that the "spy" the rebels were chasing was actually Adaira. It would probably have taken longer if we hadn't encountered a group of rebels in the street staring at a familiar fake beard with puzzled faces.
Luckily, the search had mostly subsided by then, and most citizens were still hiding in their houses, so nobody noticed when Mr Ambrose went berserk and single-handedly took down the entire squad of rebels, without even giving Karim a chance to draw his sabre. Now, we were ensconced in the ruins of a looted house, interviewing the only rebel unlucky enough to regain consciousness so far.
"Answer me!" Lifting the rebel into the air, Mr Ambrose drilled into him with an icy gaze. "Where. Is. She?!"
"Bhosdike!" the rebel cursed. "How am I supposed to know where to find that bastar—"
Wham!
A punch slammed into the man's gutt.
"That's my sister you're talking about. You will refer to her as it behoves you to do when speaking of a lady."
"That bitc—"
Wham!
"Try again."
"Dhikkaar hai! I don't know, all right?" the rebel wheezed. "If I knew where she was hiding, do you think we would still be chasing through the streets trying to find her? And why on earth are you letting your sister run through Delhi with a fake beard on her chin?"
Mr Ambrose, who obviously did not appreciate that last question very much, punched him again.
"You don't have her imprisoned? You don't know where she is?"
"No! No, I swear, I—"
Without wasting time waiting for him to say more, Mr Ambrose gestured at Karim. The bodyguard stepped up behind the prisoner and raised the butt of his sabre.
Thud!
The rebel's eyes rolled up into his head, and he collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. Fortunately for him, he was already tied to a chair.
"What now, Sahib?" Karim enquired.
"Tie up and gag the others, and stash them somewhere in the back." Mr Ambrose glanced over at the remaining members of the rebel squad who lay unconscious in a corner, then marched over to the front door that was hanging by a single hinge. "The manhunt seems to be coming to an end. If these men don't know where Adaira is, we will have to find her on our own. At least we know that she is alive now."
"And we have a clue!" I said brightly, holding up the fake beard. "Now all we need is a bloodhound trained to track the owners of fake beards, and everything will be just peachy!"
Judging by the look he sent me, Mr Rikkard Ambrose didn't appreciate my attempt to lighten the mood. I lowered my head—then suddenly froze. Wait a minute!
"Fake beards...fake beards! That's it!"
"If you are about to go searching for kennels, Mrs Ambrose, don't."
"No, no!" Hurriedly, I waved my hands. "I was just thinking...the rebels know they're chasing a spy. But we seem to have encountered the only rebels who found Adaira's beard. So, now that they're dealt with, we're the only ones who know that Adaira is a lady dressed up as an Indian soldier without a beard on her chin. I don't think there are many beardless Indian soldiers without a tan on their lower face running through the city, do you? We could just ask people if they've seen her!"
He sent me another of those looks. "And you honestly think they would just tell us?"
"Oh, they won't tell us." Smiling meaningfully, I glanced over at the tied-up rebels in the corner, who had woken up by now and seemed to be regretting that fact. "But they would tell them. After all, it would only be patriotic to share information about a despicable spy, now, would it?"
There was a moment of silence. Then...
"Mrs Ambrose?"
"Yes?"
"You are getting a raise."
"We're married. Your money is already mine."
"Which is why you are getting a raise."
I grinned. Good to know some things never changed.
"Well, then—let's get to it!" Mr Ambrose announced and stalked towards the terrified prisoners. A few moments later, the room was empty except for some unhappy rebels in their underwear.
As for our intrepid trio? Well, my plan actually ended up working. Ehem, I mean, of course, it ended up working! Because it was my plan, and my plans were always brilliant. Regardless, I couldn't suppress the surge of pride and excitement as I watched a (somewhat terrified) young man jabber away in Urdu from behind a barely open door.
"He says he saw a man with a half-brown, half-white face running down this street," Mr Ambrose translated.
"Ask him in which direction!" I urged.
With a curt nod, my husband turned back towards the man behind the door and started questioning him. Soon, a hand emerged from the crack in the door and pointed to the left. Mr Ambrose nodded and was about to turn away, when the young man behind the door muttered something in a low voice.
"What did he say?" I asked.
"He...he said we wouldn't have to go search."
"Why not?"
The look in Mr Ambrose's eyes was icy. "Because we're the second group of soldiers who've come to look for her."
A cold tingle travelled down my spine.
"You mean...?"
I didn't need to finish the sentence for him to understand.
We're not the only ones who know Adaira's true face. We're not the only ones searching for her.
"Yes!" Whirling around, Mr Rikkard Ambrose stalked off down the street at a pace most sprinters couldn't compare to. I exchanged a glance with Karim, and in silent agreement, we both dashed after him.
I just prayed we would be in time.
***
Adaira, the captain and their hosts had just reached the staircase leading down to the cellar when the pounding on the front door started.
"What the...!" Adaira's head whipped around. "I thought the search was about to end?"
"That's what I thought," Malini frowned. "Obviously, I was wrong."
"Down to the cellar, you two!" Dilip gestured at the staircase. "Quickly!"
Adaira didn't need to be told twice. Dashing down into the darkness, she somehow managed not to break her neck on the stairs. She, Carter and Malini had just arrived in front of the secret door when—
Thud! Thud! Thud!
"Inside!" the woman of the house hissed, pulling on the secret lever. "Dilip will try to delay them, but—"
Thud! Thud!
There was no need to say anymore. The moment the cabinet swung away from the wall on its hidden hinges, Adaira dashed into the small space beyond. Captain Carter leapt in after her, and the door slammed shut behind them.
Then there was darkness.
Darkness and silence.
Well, except for the distant voice of their host from one storey above them.
"I'm coming, gentlemen, I'm coming. Although I don't know why you're here again. Our house has already been searched, and I'm sure that your comrades back at the barracks can vouch for—"
Crash!
"Hey! What do you think you are doi—"
Thud!
Abruptly, Dilip's voice cut off. Adaira really, really hoped it wasn't for the reason she suspected.
Wham! Crash!
Whoever was up there, they proceeded to make their way through the house like a herd of elephants, kicking in doors, ripping open cabinets and searching every corner. Adaira couldn't help but shiver and instinctively moved closer to Captain Carter.
"Hell!" she whispered. "What is happening up there?"
"I don't know." Captain Carter sounded grim. "But it doesn't sound good."
"Now listen here," Dilip's voice came again, and Adaira breathed a sigh of relief that he was still able to speak. That relief, however, only lasted for about two seconds. "You can't just—"
Crash!
Adaira flinched. With bated breath, she waited for their host's voice to come again. It didn't.
He's just intimidated, right? Please let him just be intimidated.
Thud! Thud!
Adaira didn't get the answer to her question. All she could do was stand there in the darkness and listen as the rebels tore their way through the house. Only the strong arms wrapped tightly around her kept her from losing her mind.
At least they did until she heard the crash of the cellar door being kicked open.
Adaira tensed, not daring to breathe, praying to high heaven the rebels would just take a quick look around the empty cellar—only for the rebels' heavy footsteps to head straight towards them, as if they knew they were there. She heard a scratching sound as several hands grabbed hold of the cabinet.
Her body frozen in fear, Adaira stared up at Captain Carter, trying desperately to make out those warm eyes of his in the almost total darkness, just to see them one last time.
"It was nice knowing you," she told him with a weak smile that he probably couldn't see. Her heart felt as if it would be torn apart any moment. They had been so close! So close to their happy ending!
"More than nice," came his answer. His voice was rough. Almost desperate. "This probably isn't the right time, but..."
"It is." Reaching up, she touched his cheek.
The only time. The last time we'll have.
Those words went unspoken while they stood, locked in a tight embrace as the men outside tore at the hidden door that clearly wasn't hidden anymore.
"Oh, to hell with it!" the captain, her captain, growled. "I love you!"
Grabbing hold of her face with both hands, he leaned down and kissed her. Kissed her hard. Kissed her fiercely. Kissed her as if it was the last thing he was going to do—which it probably was. They kissed and kissed and kissed, hoping this moment would last forever, until the door was suddenly torn open, revealing...
...her brother?
Adaira froze.
Oops.
Where are trigger-happy rebels when you need them?!
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Mwahahaha! I hope you enjoyed that little surprise a bit more than Adaira probably did, my dear readers. Now we'll just have to wait and see how Mr Rikkard Ambrose will react to his little sister getting smooched in a cupboard... ;-)
Yours Truly
Sir Rob
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Bhosdike—Hindi for "son of a prostitute".
Dhikkaar hai!—Hindi for "Dammit!".