"Eeeeep!" I jerked and glared at him where he was currently rummaging around in my Cockadoodle Lane. "What the bloody hell do you think you think you are doing?"
"Saving our child."
That...
There wasn't really much I could say to that, was there?
Not that this was going to stop me.
"Connard avec un bâton à l'intérieur! Je vais te tuer et embrocher ton cadavre pourrissant avec le bâton susmentionné!"
Hey, don't judge me! I was a pissed off pregnant woman currently being split apart by my own spawn, with my husband's hand up my lady parts—and not in the fun way. I was not in a good mood.
"Silence! This requires concentration."
"Concentration? Do you even know what the hell you're doing?"
"Naturally. I've done this quite often."
That stumped me for a moment. Of all the jobs I had pictured Mr Rikkard Ambrose doing over the years, doctor was not one of them.
"You...have?"
"Indeed."
My eyes narrowed suspiciously. "With humans?"
Silence.
"Mr Ambrose! With humans?"
For a moment, I didn't receive an answer, until...
"No. Cows. But they can't be that different."
"You...with cows? Just wait till I get my hands on you! I'm going to show you a cow! From behind, when I ram your head up its arse! Tuhāḍē adara nū kīṛē khā jāṇa atē tuhāḍī'āṁ akhāṁ kānvāṁ du'ārā kaḍhī'āṁ jāṇa!"
From between my legs, Mr Rikkard Ambrose sent me a censorious look. "You have spent too much time with Karim."
"And you spend too much time with your hand up my bloody quim!"
"I didn't hear you complaining on the wedding night."
I opened my mouth to retort—and then shut it again. Hell! If only he weren't so good at saying stuff I had no good comeback to. I was just about to dredge up my last few active brain cells to find something, anything to say, when—
Pain!
Pure, unadulterated pain. It felt like a red hot rod of steel was rammed through a hole that was never meant for it. Little wonder, considering Mr Rikkard Ambrose had just shoved his entire arm up my private alley!
"It's time. I'm going to turn the baby now."
Oh, really? I would never have noticed!
"W-what the hell...! You could have warned me...gone slower!"
"I've heard it is best to rip off a medical plaster quickly."
My mouth dropped open.
Maybe. But what you just did isn't ripping off a friggin' plaster!
"Now, before we start..." He cocked his head, as if trying to remember something. "Do you need me to massage your udders? That always helped the other cow– ehem, patients."
My eyebrows twitched.
"I'm going to kill you, you know?" I informed him sweetly. "Once I find a nice stable full of cows, I'll stuff you with milk and hay till you choke to death! I'll...I'll..."
"...run out of foreign swear words?"
"I'm going to sic Patsy on you!"
"Now that is just uncalled for, Mrs Ambrose. Let's just proceed, shall we? Hold still."
YOU ARE READING
Silence No More
RomanceOrder. Discipline. Silence. Those are the rules billionaire businessman Rikkard Ambrose lives by-at least until his wife Lilly presents him with the bundle of bawling joy that is his newborn son. Together, they embark on a new life of delightfully c...