Page 11 of Storm over the Caribbean (Storm and Silence Saga #8)

Judging by the flash in my husband’s eyes, he seemed to agree. An animalistic sound erupted from his throat and, a moment later, he started hungrily kissing my cheeks, my neck, every single part of me he could reach.

“Ah.” I smirked. “So that’s the kind of thing that turns you on? Well, why not try my hand at a bit of dirty talk, Ambrose style?”

Standing up on my tiptoes, I brought my lips close to his ears and whispered: “I think you have been far too generous with me, Sir. You should immediately implement a reduction of my budget. Especially my clothing budget. Don’t you agree?”

“You…!” Claiming my lips with a ferocious kiss, he swept me off my feet and crossed the distance to the chaise longue in three long strides.

“Or maybe just saving money isn’t enough?” I whispered, snuggling into his embrace. “You like to invest, don’t you? Invest in stocks? How about instead you divest me of my vestments? And my stockings? I’m sure you’ll find a lot to investigate.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched. And it wasn’t the only thing of his that twitched. Smirking, I reached down to caress him.

“Ah…I see you’re focusing your cash flow on one particular area. Financing your companies can be hard at times, can’t it?” I sped up my strokes. “Particularly when in my company. You—”

Before I could get another word out, his hands grabbed hold of my wrists and slammed them into the chaise longue, pinning me to the soft upholstery. When his voice came, it was so gruff it sent a shiver down my spine. “You’re playing with fire, Mrs Ambrose.”

“No.” Shaking my head, I gazed deep into his fathomless, dark, arctic eyes. “I’m playing with ice. And it’s all mine.”

Something flickered in those eyes of his. Something wild and…vulnerable. Swallowing, he glanced around at the newly decorated room.

“You shouldn’t have done this,” he murmured. “You shouldn’t have wasted money like this.”

Gently, I touched his face. “It wasn’t a waste.”

“Why?” His grip on me tightened, and he stared into my eyes as if he could find the answers to all questions of the world in there. “Why do all this?”

To that, there was only one answer. “Because you’re worth it.”

A muscle in his cheek twitched. “Worth spending my own money on something I most definitely didn’t ask for?”

The corners of my mouth twitched. “Exactly.”

“You…you…!”

“Wastrel? Profligate?”

“No.” Pressing his forehead to mine, he closed his eyes. “You’re my little ifrit .”

Then, without further ado, he tore off his shirt and pounced on me. Needless to say, our new second-hand sofa was very thoroughly tested that night. As was the bed. And the carpet. And the kitchen counter.

I should buy new houses more often.

***

“And?” I panted, when things had finally calmed down a little. Twisting around to face him, I trailed a hand down the side of his chiselled face. “What do you…think of my…furniture selection?”

“As I said.” Reaching over, he covered my hand with his. “Adequate.”

Pushing myself up, I glanced through the window where the sun was just rising. As in, rising after a whole night of strenuous activity. “Yes, just adequate.” I cocked my head at him. “I’m sure that’s why you kept our nightly activities brief, right?”

“Hm.”

For a long moment, or maybe two, we lay together in companionable silence. Outside, the sounds of the waking city slowly started to rise into the air. And still, we just lay there, doing nothing but enjoying each other’s company. That, more than anything else, told me how he really felt right now.

“Why?”

The word was nothing but a whisper. Snuggling closer into him, I cupped his cheek and gazed up at his perfect face. “Why did I do this? I already told you. You’re worth it.”

For a long moment, he gazed at me—then abruptly looked away.

And I will keep telling you till you believe me!

“The thought is appreciated, Mrs Ambrose. That’s not what I meant, though.”

Yeah, right.

“What did you mean then?”

He peered into the distance, gazing at the view through the window, which showed the racetrack and casino, and the outskirts of London beyond. Then he turned back towards me, his eyes intense.

“Why here? Why this place? I might, and I stress might , understand why you might wish to live in a home instead of a hotel. But a home right next to said hotel? Why?”

My lips twitched. Hm…he really was not able to fathom my genius, was he?

Well, let’s enlighten him.

“Why? Of course, so we can call the hotel chef over to make us dinner, and the maids to keep stuff clean.” Reaching out, I playfully flicked his forehead.

“Just because I want a comfy home doesn’t mean we have to waste extra money on more staff, right?

Plus…” A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth as I gestured out the window towards the casino.

“Once this place is opened to the public, I thought you’d appreciate a 24/7 view of people handing over their hard-earned money to you. ”

Something flashed deep in his eyes just then. In a blink, he cupped my cheek and leaned over towards me. “You really know me well, don’t you?”

I raised my chin. “I’m your wife. That’s my job.”

“I thought it was driving me crazy?”

“That, too.” I smirked, shifting towards the edge of the bed. “Which reminds me, I’ve wasted deplorable amounts of time. I should really get up and start doing my job so—”

“Stop right there!”

I froze in mid-movement.

“Now…come here!”

Just yesterday, I had taken part in a rally for women’s rights. And now? Surely, I wasn’t just willing to obey a man’s commands at the drop of a hat, right?

Hah! Right.

One quick tug, and I fell into his arms. Somehow, those rock-hard arms of his caught me softly, even gently, and pulled me against his chest more tenderly than ever before. I didn’t resist.

“You mentioned something about doing your job?” he growled into my ear. “Your duties? Well, I think you haven’t quite fulfilled your marital duties yet.”

“Oh?” I couldn’t help but chuckle. “So there are still surfaces in the house we haven’t…explored?”

“Perhaps there aren’t.” His grip tightened. “However, I have always believed it is best to be thorough in all things.”

With a single move, he pulled me back onto the bed.

In a blink, he was above me, holding himself up effortlessly, both arms planted in the mattress on either side of me.

I felt a tug at my heart as I realized that he held himself just high enough to barely caress my abdomen with his, but not put the slightest weight on it.

Pressing a fiery kiss on my lips, he tore away the blanket that was the only barrier between the two of us.

“Now,” he rasped. “Time to—”

Ding-dong!

He froze.

I cocked an eyebrow. “Time to get the door?”

His eyes narrowed infinitesimally. “I shall take care of that mouth of yours, my lady wife. Soon.”

“I look forward to it.”

Ding-dong! Ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong!

“Err…excuse me?” a voice called from outside. “The people next door told me this is the new Ambrose residence?”

Dragging in a deep breath, Mr Ambrose pushed himself up. He wrapped himself in a blanket with a single flick of the hand and stalked down the stairs and towards the door. I sent a quick prayer heavenward for the hapless postman.

The door swung open.

“ Yes ?”

“I, um…have a letter for, err…”

“Give. Now.”

“Y-yes, Sir. Right away, Si—”

Thud!

The door slammed shut resoundingly. I watched through the open door of the bedroom as my dear husband tore open the letter and started to read. Really? Now?

Cocking an eyebrow, I opened my mouth, ready to call him back to bed—

That was, until his hands clenched around the letter and I saw the utter, unadulterated rage flash in his cold eyes.