I barely had time to suck in a breath before he was moving. An instant later, the surroundings were whizzing past me and I found myself inside the house, heading at high speed towards the bedroom.

"Hey, put me down! I can walk on my own! I can—"

"Silence."

That command. That one word. I felt a shiver go down my back. That was the same tone of voice he'd used when ordering me around the office, back in the days when I had been nothing more than Mr Victor Linton, humble secretary and all-around minion. A tone that demanded nothing but absolute obedience.

So, why the heck is it making me feeling hot all over? I'm no obedient little wife!

Right?

Right, definitely not! And the fact that during my mental debate, I had snuggled closer to my husband as he clutched me in his arms was pure coincidence!

"So...nothing more to say?" The challenging look in his eyes...it was simply too much!

"I've got plenty to say, Mister! I—"

Before I could get out another syllable, Mr Rikkard Ambrose silenced me in the most effective way possible. Not with words. Not with icy glares. But with his lips. His arms tightened around me. The way he was holding me...it should have been called a princess carry. But what I would really have to call it would be booty carry. Because he was holding me in his clutches like a pirate would his plundered treasure. And, well...

Because his hand was squeezing my booty.

"Mr Ambrose!" I hissed, my face heating.

The iceberg who held me in his arms remained unfazed. "Mrs Ambrose?"

"Remove your hand!"

His hand tightened, squeezing hard. My face flamed.

"What did I say about proving to you who is the real boss around here, Mrs Ambrose?" he growled.

I lowered my eyes, shying away from him—until I realized what I was doing, and my chin jerked up, my eyes glaring straight at him.

"You're not the boss of me!"

"Indeed?" he cocked his head, his pace not slowing for an instant. Distantly I realized we were already halfway to the bedroom. "Your employment contract says otherwise."

"You know what I mean!"

"I do, do I?"

Heck...! How were we already standing inside the bedroom? Just a moment ago, we had been outside in the corridor!

It was because of those eyes of his! Those damnable deep, dark, sea-coloured eyes that can hypnotize and dominate a woman at sixty paces. I tried to jerk my gaze away from his...

And failed.

Miserably.

Suddenly, I was airborne again before, with an umph, hitting the soft mattress.

"So, let's try this again, shall we?" He was already there, hovering above me, his granite fists buried into the mattress on either side of me. "Who is the boss around here?"

Once again, I raised my chin in challenge. "Me!"

Like a snake, he struck! His mouth slammed down on mine, claiming, conquering, declaring himself as ruler of my body and soul. His tongue danced with mine, sucking all the energy out of my limbs with the mastery of a true expert.

"Again," he rasped, his eyes burning with cold flames. "Who is the boss?"

With absolute confidence, he gazed down at me in challenge for one agonizingly long second. One second was all the time I needed to rearrange my brain cells into a semblance of sensibility. Dragging in a deep breath, I met his eyes head-on.

"Me—ummmmph!"

Before I could even finish that one word, Mr Ambrose's lips cut me off once more.

Did I think he had kissed me before?

I had been mistaken. That had to have been a mere peck. Because this...this was a real kiss. This was pandemonium in my mouth. This was an inferno everywhere inside me. An inferno lit by him. I squirmed underneath him. Trying to get closer? To get away? I had no idea. But he wasn't about to let me do the latter. One powerful hand snapped around my wrists, pinning me to the bed like a lion his prey.

And, from how things were going, he was going to eat me any minute.

His mouth continued devouring mine, every move meticulously calculated, every twist of the tongue intended to seduce. Oh, and what lips they were...! His lips tasted of paradise. And pickled toenails. And elk fur pizza. And, amazingly, the latter was the best of all!

Marriage really broadens your horizons.

But...was that really what was happening? The strange, exotic tastes, the burning desires inside me that were ten times as intense as anything I had felt before...

It wasn't normal.

But then again, I was a crossdressing, gunslinging secretary married to the richest man in the world. Since when did I do "normal"?

Especially since this was the most amazing feeling ever. Frightening, yes. Terrifying even. But amazing. The tongue in my mouth seemed to touch places I never knew existed, spreading tastes of a thousand strange and wondrous things. The hands dancing all over my body were like brands, marking me as his in every spot they touched.

His to command.

His to pleasure.

His to enjoy.

"Again," he growled, his eyes burning into me with such intensity they took my breath away. "Who. Is. The. Boss. Here?"

"Y-you."

The word was out of my mouth before I could stop myself. And before I could stop him, he tore open my dress, throwing it to the side.

Not that stopping him was on the top of my agenda.

Understatement of the century.

With a rip of cloth, my petticoat followed my dress. There I was, bare before him. Defenceless. And deep, deep down, loving it.

"Now," said a voice so powerful it made me tremble deep inside, "let's see who is in charge, shall we?"

***

In the miners' barracks near the tunnel entrance, a bed creaked under repeated horrible impacts.

"Stop jumping up and down on that thing like a brainless brat, Kojo!"

"Ha!" Making a backflip in the air, the muscular man came down again and struck a pose. "You're just jealous of my vigour and strength, and how the ladies love both!"

Itoro gave his friend a look. A why-is-this-person-not-in-a-straightjacket kind of look. "What ladies? We spent the last few months chained below decks on a Spanish galley, and ever since then we've been cooped up in courtrooms with lawyers who, despite the gowns they wear, aren't usually pretty women."

Kojo simply shrugged and jumped again like the happy man-child he was. "They might have been. Did you check?"

"No, I did not check! And stop jumping up and down like a drugged-up bunny!"

"What are you so riled up about?" Kojo asked, grinning happily. "We're free. We've got food, we've got beds, we—"

Just then, he landed, and the bed collapsed with a crash beneath him.

"Now we've got one bed less," Itoro commented.

All that came in answer was a tortured groan.

Sighing, Itoro strode forward and extended his arm.

A hand emerged from the pile of wooden bits and pieces and, after waving around in the air for a while, found Itoro's and took hold of it. With another groan, Kojo let himself be pulled to his feet. For a long moment, Itoro simply glared at him—then the two started laughing at the same moment. They didn't stop for a very long time. When they finally calmed down, a serene calm descended over the room.

The two friends' eyes met.

"We're really free, aren't we?"

"Yes, Kojo. Yes, we are."

The big man grinned from ear to ear. "Now I want to jump up and down again."

"Don't you dare!"

His grin got even wider

"You...you said that on purpose!"

"Mwahahaha!"

"Come here, you! I'm going to beat you to death!"

"With those tiny sticks you call arms? Haha! In your dreams!"

They chased each other around the room for ten minutes or so, the others gathering round and betting on who would win. Not that they had a single cent to bet with—but that wasn't really the point.

"Five acorns on Itoro!"

"Three dung beetles on Kojo!"

"Three? You stingy bugger! You can afford at least five!"

Finally, when both contestants had sagged onto the ground exhausted, the barracks started to quiet down. Soon, they gathered outside in the warm evening air, watching the scenic countryside and the forest in the distance. They sat there in companionable silence, listening to the sounds of the night. The chirping of crickets. The burbling of a nearby brook. The singing of the nocturnal birds in the trees. Sounds you could only hear in freedom.

"Ah, a nightingale..." Itoro sighed as he listened to the sweet song of the bird. "Haven't heard that one in a while."

Next came a predatory call, harsh and mighty.

"Nighthawk," someone muttered, gazing at the sky. "Flying free."

Another few moments passed by, before....

"Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!"

A wild, ecstatic screech issued from the clearing at the centre at the forest, echoing over the countryside. The assembled ex-slaves stared into the darkness for a long moment—then exchanged confused looks.

Itoro blinked, staring at the distant forest. "What on earth kind of bird was that?"

"Screech owl," Kojo said wisely. "Definitely a screech owl."

***

Later that evening, after Mr Ambrose and I had exhausted ourselves—ehem, much, much later—I rolled around to face him, the bed squeaking beneath me.

"So...I guess, in conclusion, I'm in charge around here, right?"

The icy stare Mr Rikkard Ambrose sent in my direction did not look amused.

Smirking, I sat up and knelt on the bed before me. "Forgive me, oh mighty King Bossmaster the Great! Please show me the way to make up for questioning your ultimate authority over the universe! May I kiss your feet to gain your forgiveness?"

"Mrs Ambrose?"

"Yes, oh mighty overlord?"

"You would be considerably more convincing if your shoulders weren't shaking from laughter."

"I beg your pardon, oh mightiest master of mightiness! How can I ever make up for this travesty and gain your favour again?" Lifting my head just enough to peek up to him, I grinned. "Especially sexual ones?"

"You...!"

His arms captured me, pulling me close, his lips approaching. I braced myself for the fierce lip lock—which never came.

Instead, I felt a gentle brush of lips against my own, a caress that contained so many unspoken and unfathomable things.

"I knew there was a reason I married you." Tenderly, a thumb stroked across my cheek. "Never a dull moment."

"Thank you." I pressed a gentle kiss on his forehead—then grabbed him by the short hairs and pinned him to the bed, staring down at him. "And don't you think you can distract me with a simple compliment! You've still got some explaining to do, Mister!"

A moment of silence. Then...

"It was worth a try."

I cocked an eyebrow.

"But I should have guessed that, with you, it wouldn't work"

I grinned.

"Now..." My grin turning predatory—or lovingly conjugal, if you went by my definition—I leaned closer to my dear husband. "Could you tell me what is actually going on, dear husband of mine? That man...what was his name again? Kojo? He said they won? Is the trial already over?"

Mr Ambrose snorted. "After a few days? Please! This is America! Land of the free and home of the greedy lawyers who put the free in jail for money. Any decent lawsuit around here will drag out for at least six months. Years, probably."

"Ah." I nodded. "Let me guess: you despise solicitors."

"Indeed."

"Hm. I guess that explains why we left New York so quickly." I sent him a wifely glare. "Without a sightseeing trip."

Wisely, Mr Ambrose decided to remain silent.

"But it doesn't explain," I continued, jabbing my thumb at the window, in the direction of the miners' barracks, "what those people are doing here. Or the Spanish nobs, for that matter. If the trial isn't over yet, why are all those men already running around your mining compound?"

He shrugged. "Technically, our dark-skinned friends are the accusers, not the accused. Why would they be held, if slavery is illegal in the state they landed in? Why would they have to be there, if they have solicitors to represent them?"

I blinked. True. Why would they? They would just saunter off. Problem solved.

Only...

A little cynical voice in the back of my mind whispered to me that things were never really that easy. Not if the guilty party was powerful and the innocent had only just taken off their slave collars. Unless...

Unless there was someone equally powerful on their side.

I glanced at Mr Rikkard Ambrose.

He gazed straight back at me. "My solicitors can be very convincing. There will be no problem with the former slaves staying here—not even if someone were to find out about their presence in the first place. And as for the Spaniards..." His eyes sparkled like ice. "They were released on bail."

No, scratch that. I looked more closely at his eyes. They didn't sparkle like ice. They sparkled like gold coins.

"Just out of curiosity...how much bail did they have to pay?"

The golden sparkle intensified.

"A...suitable amount."

"That will at some point, somehow, flow into your pocket?"

"I don't quite understand what you mean, Mrs Ambrose."

"Of course you don't."

An instant later, Mr Rikkard Ambrose found himself grabbed and dragged down to the mattress once again.

"What, pray, do you think you are doing, Mrs Ambrose?"

"Going for another round. Do you have any idea how hot you are when you are being stingy and manipulative?"

"No. Do elaborate."

Tightening my grip on him, I moved closer. "Oh, I plan to, Sir. I plan to."

Then I made my move.

In a tangle of arms and legs, we tumbled across the mattress, Or, to be precise, arms, legs and lust. My lips were glued to his and my legs were wrapped around his waist, pressing him down, deep into the soft down below us.

"Look at that," I breathed, breaking our lip lock. "You're beneath me! Who's in charge now? How do you plan on challenging me?"

A rumble rose from deep within his chest. The intensity of his stare alone was enough to make my bones feel mushy.

And then came his voice.

"Who says I want to?"

In a blink, he drew me down towards him, ruthlessly invading my mouth. Right there and then, he reaffirmed what he had already clearly demonstrated earlier tonight: that while Mr Rikkard Ambrose might be stingy, his lips certainly weren't.

Things...happened.

Even later that night—once again, much, much later, insert innocent whistle here—I lay awake in the arms of my loving husband, who had once more managed to distract me, the moonlight casting a sliver of silvery light into the room.

"What next?" I whispered, my face pressed into his chest. I never knew a bag of money could smell so nice. "The Spaniards are here. What do we do now?"

"Now?" If I'd looked up, there would most certainly not have been the slightest hint of a grin on Mr Ambrose's features. But I could hear one hidden deep within his voice. "Now we sit back and wait."

"Wait?" I blinked, confused. Now that was a word I had not expected to hear. "For what?"

"One, for the money that will be rolling in. After all, my mine is now operational once more. And two..." His arms came around me, holding me close. "Well, you do realize that those two Spanish gentlemen still believe they've won a great victory against us, don't you? What do you think their reaction will be when they wait and wait for my operation to collapse, and...nothing happens to it whatsoever?"

"Oh dear." A grin spread across my face. "I have a feeling this honeymoon is going to become...entertaining, Sir."

-------------------------------------------------

My dear Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen,

I do so love for my characters to hatch devious schemes. Mwahahaha!

Excuse the evil laughter. I shall now return to writing forthwith.

Yours Truly

Sir Rob