Here is another sample from my wip for your this week. My heroine and hero are being questioned by a particularly suspicious gendarme.
Still held in a tight embrace, Honor
listened in astonishment as Vidal castigated the intruders in fluent French for
their untimely interruption.
“We beg a thousand pardons,” the
leader offered, “but we are searching for a traitor and were told he was here.”
“Well unless he is hiding in a
cupboard, “Vidal let his glance roam round the intricately carved wooden
panelled walls of the room, “he is not here.”
“When did you arrive?”
Honor hid a smile in Vidal’s chest
when she heard the doubt in the interrogator’s voice.
“My bride and I arrived,” he made a
display of digging out his watch, “about two hours ago.”
One of the men standing behind the
speaker and just beyond the door leaned forward and whispered something.
The speaker’s eyes sharpened and he
stepped forward. “What if I told you,
you were seen in Bordeaux this afternoon?”
“I suppose it is possible.” Vidal put
his arm round her shoulder and pulled her even closer to him. Something inside her trembled and knew the
heat spiralling within her had reached her face. Embarrassment added fuel to her sudden
longing and guilt added to discomfort.
How could Vidal’s kisses create such a storm of wanting within her? And at critical moment when they were in
danger of being exposed as English travelling through an enemy country?
“My dear,” Vidal’s finger beneath her
chin brought her head up until her eyes met his. A look, strong, demanding and yet full of an
understanding the added to her confusion unsettled her further. “The chief of
gendarme is asking you if you have seen the man they are looking for?”
“Man?” She dimpled at the official,
who she suspected was more likely a soldier than a gendarme. “I have eyes only
for my husband.”
“Perhaps I can jog your memory?”
Her heart pounded to the rhythm of her
fear, what had she missed while daydreaming about her reaction to Vidal’s
kisses?
“I think he means the man who stopped
us in Bordeaux and asked for directions.”
“Oh, I see.” She let herself give in
to her longing to touch Vidal’s face, and trailed her finger down his cheek,
and hid a smile when his eyes darkened with desire. “He was not as tall as my husband, more
slender I think, and his hair was darker. Was it darker?” she asked Vidal. Then
before he could answer addressed the man now standing directly in front of
her. “I cannot say for sure, for he was
just someone asking the way.”
“And what did you tell him?”
“What could I tell him?” She waited
for his challenge and when it didn’t come looked up at Vidal. “You gave him
directions, did you not?” She let the memory of his kiss heat up her face
again. “I’m afraid I only had eyes for my husband.” She reached up and kissed
him on the lips.
