Page 4 of Storm over the Caribbean (Storm and Silence Saga #8)
Just then, from behind me, I heard the soft rustling of cloth hitting the floor. Water splashed as something slid into the pool and approached me from behind.
Then again, being a blabbermouth is spiffing! Why not do it more often?
“Come.” His strong hands moved from my back to my front, pulling me close, gently caressing, massaging.
“I-it’s my back that’s aching,” I managed to squeeze out.
“Oh?” I could practically hear him cocking his head. “Do you want me to resume massaging your back?”
His fingers began to trace leisurely circles on my chest. A moan escaped my throat. “N-no! The front is fine!”
“Indeed?”
Bastard!
His fingers started moving faster, dancing across my skin in the most interesting way. I felt my knees go weak and wobbled ever so slightly.
“Tired?” his low rumble of a voice caressed my ears. “Lean on me.”
“Chauvinist,” I murmured.
“And you love me,” he retorted.
I didn’t really have a response for that. Bloody hell, was it annoying when husbands were right!
Just then, said husband’s hands resumed their exploration of my body, one continuing its massage, while the other wandered farther down, over my belly, down to my—
Ohh…!
On the other hand, husbands could be really useful. Yep, let’s keep him. At least as long he continues to…
Aah, yes!
“Did you say something, Mrs Ambrose?”
“Shut up! And don’t you dare stop!”
“As you wish, Mrs Ambrose.”
Maybe, just maybe, living in a hotel wouldn’t be so bad after all. The room service was certainly nice.
After the lengthiest and most enjoyable bath of my life, I emerged from the bathroom fresh, smiling and…invigorated. With a contented sigh, I stretched. Bathing was so much more relaxing when you had soft clothes to put on and a chiselled, naked husband to dry your hair for you.
“Your Ladyship.” A butler awaited me in the corridor, bowing deeply as soon as he spotted me. “Dinner will be served in a few minutes. May I show you the way to the dining room?”
“No,” a certain cool voice came from right behind me. “ I will.”
A tall figure in a dark tailcoat and trousers appeared beside me, and a rock-hard, muscled arm linked with mine. Glancing sideways, I cocked an eyebrow up at my dear husband.
“Jealous of your own butler, Mr Ambrose, Sir?” I whispered.
He sent me a cool gaze. “I know how much he earns per month. Trust me, there is no need to be. Now…dinner?”
“Lead on, Sir.”
Dinner was scrumptious—and that was coming from a woman who could enjoy the eye candy that was Mr Rikkard Ambrose. I had never enjoyed any food so much in my life. Granted, considering the usual fare in my aunt and uncle’s house, that wasn’t really saying much, but still. It was wonderful.
Which brought to mind a question.
Slumped back in my chair, I slowly opened one of my lazy eyelids in an attempt to overcome my post-banquet drowsiness and peered at Mr Rikkard Ambrose.
“Why?”
He cocked his head. “Why what?”
I gestured at the luxurious room, the crystal chandelier, the table filled with the remains of various delicacies. “This house. The dinner. Everything. This isn’t like you. So…why?”
For a moment, there was silence. Then…
“A last meal for the condemned.”
I blinked. “Pardon?”
“A last meal for the condemned. Or did you forget already what we have planned for tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow? What are you talking abou—” My eyes suddenly widened. “Oh.”
“‘Oh’ is correct, Mrs Ambrose.”
“Crap, crap, crap! How could I have forgotten?”
“I am unaware.”
I was such a bloody idiot! With all that had happened, I’d completely forgotten about that !
First my day back at work, then the rather interesting bath, and well…
suffice it to say, our plans for tomorrow had completely slipped my mind.
Now that I wasn’t in the bath being, ehem…
“distracted” by Mr Ambrose anymore, my anxiety set in with a vengeance.
Tomorrow would be the day. The day I had tried to avoid as long as I could. The day that could no longer be delayed. The day of my doom.
I swallowed.
“Um…do you think we could leave the city? I know this charming little village by the coast where—”
“No.”
“But why? We could—”
“Because a certain lady told me to, and I quote, ‘under no circumstances let me weasel my way out of it’.”
Damn! I did tell him that, didn’t I?
Me and my big mouth!
“Um…I was wondering…”
“Yes, Mrs Ambrose?”
“Back at your country manor, you have suits of armour, don’t you?” I tried my best to not sound too hopeful. I failed miserably. “Could you lend me one?”
“No.”
“But—”
“Not unless you can find a suit of armour for pregnant female knights.”
Dammit! Why does he always have to be right?
“Well, if that is it…” Rising from his seat, Mr Ambrose stepped forward and extended his hand towards me. “Time for bed.”
“Um…can’t we stay up a little longer?”
After all, the longer you stay up at night, the longer it would take for the morning to come. This was a universal law of time I had discovered while waiting for Father Christmas as a five-year-old. 3
“No.” In a blink, he had crossed the distance between us and captured one of my hands in his. Deep, dark, sea-coloured eyes bored into mine, full of promise for the night to come. “Bed. Now .”
Then again…going to bed early didn’t necessarily have to mean sleeping. Judging by the look on my husband’s face, I wouldn’t get much shuteye tonight.
“Very well. Let’s go, Mr Am—”
A squeak escaped my mouth as he snatched me up and carried me off towards the bed chamber. I clung on tightly to him, shutting out any and all thoughts of tomorrow. If my doom was approaching anyway, I might as well enjoy my last night, right?
***
Bright and early next morning, we stepped out of the palace-for-rent that was the Emerald Meadow Racetrack Hotel & Casino and moved towards the carriage that awaited us. That is, Mr Ambrose moved towards the carriage, while dragging me behind him.
“Do we really have to go? I don’t think I’m feeling very well. I might vomit any moment!”
“The carriage has open windows.”
“I, um…think I just remembered I left something at home. I should go back and fetch it before—”
“Our entire luggage is still waiting at Empire House.”
Oh, crap! What the heck am I supposed to do if even my fibbing skills fail me?
The last thing I saw before I was dragged into the coach was the broad grin on Karim’s face.
“You’re the bodyguard,” I reminded him. “If I’m in danger, it’s your duty to defend me.”
His grin instantly disappeared, replaced by a horrified expression.
“Karim?” Mr Ambrose called out. “Drive.”
“Um… Sahib , I just remembered I forgot something back in my room. Could I go and—”
“Drive. Now .”
All too soon, we arrived in front of a familiar house.
I had visited here quite often in my pre-marriage days, and yet now, as I climbed out of the carriage, I was dreading every step forward.
Nonetheless, I finally arrived in front of the door.
Before I could stop him, Mr Rikkard Ambrose raised his hand and knocked.
“Couldn’t you have waited a little longer?” I hissed.
He cocked his head. “And waste time?”
“Rrrgh! You’re infuriating!”
“And you are too excitable.” Half-turning towards me, he cocked his head. “It is not as if you are the only one who might have to face…unpleasant consequences here. In fact, it is most likely I whom this will be most hazardous for.”
“But you’re made from rock!” I shot back my perfectly logical counter-argument. “You’ll be fine! You—”
Right then, the door swung open, revealing the stoic form of a butler. “Ah. Mr and Mrs Ambrose, I presume? Please come in, you are expected.”
His gaze swivelled down to the bulge of my belly.
“Well…at least most of you.”
And he vanished, apparently very eager to not be present when his employer arrived. I could not blame him either.
We stepped after him into the entryway. Before I even had a chance to slip out of my overcoat or pull out my revolver to defend myself from the coming danger, the door at the other end of the room burst open, and several figures rushed inside. Ella, Edmund, Flora, Eve and…
“Finally!” Patsy exclaimed. “You’re back! And…you…”
Her voice trailed off as she stared at me. Or, more precisely, my abdominal region.
“Surprise!” I gave her my best and brightest smile. “I’m pregnant!”