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.