Just to be clear: I'm not speaking in metaphors. I don't mean that an emotional wall between Mr Ambrose and me exploded and we were suddenly free to engage in unbridled lust. (Because that had, of course, already happened five minutes ago.) No, I mean that the wall literally exploded.
Which wall, you want to know?
To be honest, I'm not entirely sure. It's not very easy to register such things when you're thrown through the air by the force of a terrific blast. One moment, Mr Ambrose and I were clenched in a passionate (though, of course, fake!) embrace on the bed, the next we were hurled with passionate force against the nearest wall that was still standing, the bed raining down in splinters around us.
I hadn't even started to figure out which way was up and which was down when the first gunshot exploded through the night. Through the whole in the wall, I could see flashes from outside, and with a thud, something hard buried itself in the wall next to my head.
'Down!' Apparently, Mr Ambrose was quicker than me at figuring out the up-and-down thing. He knew which was which, and proceeded to demonstrate it to me by throwing himself on top of me and slamming me down onto the floor, squashing all the air out of me.
'Oumpf!'
'Stay down! They're firing!'
I opened my mouth to tell him I had noticed that, thanks very much, but I got a mouthful of mortar and wood splinters, and choked.
Crash!
The door flew open and Karim loomed in the doorway, his sabre in one hand, a gun in the other. He took in the scene with one fierce glare.
Roaring a guttural battle cry, he rushed forward and leapt through the whole in the wall without the slightest hesitation. From beyond the ragged opening came a scream. It wasn't his.
'That's right!' Shoving Mr Ambrose off me, I struggled to my feet. 'Show those bastards!' Grabbing the nearest thing to a weapon – a copper statue of the Egyptian god Ra with a wickedly sharp hawk's beak – I made to step forward. I wasn't going to be outdone by Karim!
'Not so fast!' An iron-hard arm encircled my waste, holding me back without the least effort. 'Where do you think you are going?'
'Let me go!' Struggling against Mr Ambrose's unbreakable grip, I tried to get nearer to the smoking opening in the wall. 'Let me go, I said! I'm going to show them! I'm going to–'
'...come with me without making any trouble.'
'No!'
'Yes.'
With a swift kick, he swept my feet out from under me. Giving a startled cry, I fell back, and he caught me, lifting me into the air.
'You bloody bastard! Let me down!'
'No.'
He started forward.
'Let me down, now! I will not be carried out of here like a damn parcel!'
'No, not like a parcel,' he agreed, his eyes burning with cold fire. 'Not at all.' And, bending down, he pressed a passionate kiss on my lips. By the time he released my mouth and I could remember how to breathe, we were already out in the hallway – over the threshold.
Only he didn't carry you into your new home, clad in a white dress. He carried you out of a recently exploded hotel suite with a dress that is practically ripped in half!
Well, a girl can't have everything.
'Let me down!' I commanded once more. 'I can walk perfectly well on my own, do you hear me? Let me down!'
YOU ARE READING
In the Eye of the Storm
RomanceIn the desert, an instant turns life into death and hate into love. In the desert, everything is different. Boundaries break down, and you find yourself doing things that you would never, ever have imagined. Lilly Linton finds this out the hard...