Page 189 of New Storm Rising
Let me tell you: Mr Rikkard Ambrose is anamazingstoryteller.
***
Pigeons were curring. Curs were cursing. The merry sounds of a waking New York City were drifting in through the bedroom window. Yawning, I slowly opened my eyes and blinked in the morning sunlight. After a moment or two, a beautiful vista met my eyes.
The skyline of New York?
Ha! To heck with the skyline of New York! I was talking about the abline of Mr Rikkard Ambrose! Unable to resist, I reached out, caressing my dear husband’s anatomy. It didn’t take long, though, for my eyes to travel upward and land on his face, instead.
His beautiful, perfect, peaceful face.
I felt my heart soften.
I had never really seen him like this before. Open. At peace. Vulnerable. Whenever he was awake, he still was the same old stiff, stone-hard, immovable statue that I had first met on that fateful election day. But right now…
Leaning forward, I pressed a gentle kiss on his cheek.
So what if he hadn’t told me much about his past yet? So what if he still held secrets? Whoever and whatever he was, he was my husband. The man I loved. And we had the rest of our lives to discover each other.
Life was good.
***
“Bluuuurgh!”
I really, really, really,reallyhad to stop putting my foot in my mouth.
“Where’s my camel?” I groaned, gripping the rim of the bucket I was hunched over. “A kingdom for my camel!”
“We’re on the third floor, Mrs Ambrose.”
“And there’s an elevator in this place!”
Mr Rikkard Ambrose, unsurprisingly, did not deign to give an answer to that. He didn’t really need to. His silence spoke volumes.
Not that I was in any condition to read them. At the moment, I was far too fascinated with my darling bucket.
“Bleeeargh! Gargh!”
From behind, I felt two strong hands settle on my shoulders. Moments later, an arm slid around me, gently holding me in place.
I felt a small smile tug at my mouth. Maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t so wrong after all about life being good.
“Bluurgh!”
Then again, everything is debatable.
It took roughly another quarter of an hour before my stomach settled down. When it finally did, I came up for air and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe my mouth.
“Are you feeling better?”
I nodded. “I think so.”
Nodding curtly, Mr Ambrose let go and rose to his feet. “Adequate. Then we can order breakfast now.”
I clutched my stomach as I felt it jerk and twitch. “You cruel, cruel man!”
“What could you possibly mean, Mrs Ambrose?”
