The Final Storm

21. Love Birds Reunited

The moment she felt a hand grab her, Adaira instinctively opened her mouth to scream—only for another hand to clamp down over her mouth. Before she could start to struggle, she was dragged off her feet. But...she wasn't dragged around the corner, where the mob was. No, she was pulled into the shadowy doorway of a half-ruined house.

This...this isn't a rebel! If it were, he would already have screamed out loud about having captured the spy.

Adaira's heart plummeted. Good God! Had she fallen into the hands of some pervert who had seen through her disguise and wanted to take advantage of the chaos to ravish her? Hell no! She would rather die than—

"Stop struggling," a voice whispered into her ear. An oh-so-familiar voice that sent shivers of anticipation down her spine. "Or they'll hear us!"

Scratch that. He could do all the ravishing he wanted.

Ceasing her struggle immediately, Adaira twisted her head just far enough to catch a glimpse of the man who held her in his grasp. His face was hidden in shadows, but those eyes shining from the shadows...those warm, brown eyes with a hint of mischief in them...

Just then, the mob stormed around the corner. Adaira stiffened, and so did her captor behind her, tightening his grip on her. She didn't mind in the least.

"Get him!"

"Catch the spy!"

"Give me back my trousers!"

Accompanied by various angry shouts, the crowd raced past their hiding place. Adaira didn't dare to even take a breath. She remained stock-still in the arms of the man whose true identity she still wasn't completely sure of. Even when the mob was gone, she didn't dare to move. A minute passed. Then another. Only when the third minute had ended and there was still no sign of her pursuers returning did Adaira turn her head towards the shadowy figure of the man behind her, allowing his hand to slip from her mouth.

"J-James?"

"Yes."

That was all she needed to hear. In the blink of an eye, she had whirled to face him and threw her arms around his neck until she dangled from it like a limpet.

"Miss Ambrose! You—"

"For you," she told him, "that's Adaira!"

Then she kissed him.

It was a fierce kiss. A wild kiss. A kiss like no other—probably because it was her first. She could feel the stubble on his unshaved chin brushing against her face. Rough hands that had obviously had only barely clung onto life in enemy territory swept all over her body as if to make certain she was really here, leaving trails of heat in their wake. And his lips...

Oh Lord, his lips! Sweet, soft, searing hot, and a lot of other beautiful adjectives that start with S. What? Hot didn't start with S? Who on earth cared! Because Adaira sure as hell didn't! Let alone spelling, those lips made her want to forget everything and anything around her! Was she indulging in hanky-panky in a warzone, with dozens of men still hunting for her? Irrelevant! Was she kissing a man she wasn't engaged to? Heck yes! Now that was enough time wasted with unnecessary words! Back to kissing the deliciousness that was his lips! Yum!

Adaira didn't know how long she stood there, clinging to her man as if he were the only thing keeping her afloat in a stormy sea. He held her with the very same fervour, his hands roaming all over her body in an effort to make sure she was really there. His lips didn't part from hers for a second until her head was dizzy and her body about to explode with passion. When he finally broke the kiss, there were stars dancing in front of Adaira's eyes. It was only his lips that released her, though. His arms remained firmly wrapped around her, and his eyes didn't leave her face for an instant.