Page 220 of Storm over the Caribbean
“We’ll still need to give our favourite bristly beard some time. What shall we do in the interim?” Sidling up to him, I batted my eyelashes like an innocent young girl. Or at least an innocent young girl who’d gotten knocked up after getting sex-advice from her prostitute friend. “We could go back home and make sure everything in the nursery is ready. And while we’re at it, we could also inspect the bedroom.” I placed a gentle hand on his arm. “Thoroughly.”
Mr Ambrose stiffened under my touch. His icy eyes fixed themselves upon me. They didn’t heat up. They didn’t fill with the fire of passion. They became even colder, like the eyes of a Siberian tiger on the prowl.
“You,” he squeezed out between clenched teeth, “are a temptress.”
“Guilty as charged.” I grinned up at him, unrepentant. “But then…you like me that way, don’t you?”
“The word, Mrs Ambrose,” he growled as he grabbed hold of the back of my neck, “islove.”
And he slammed his lips down on mine.
Ahh…how nice it was to have my terminology corrected.
“But, unfortunately, now is not the time.”
Wait, what?
Taking a deep breath, he stepped back. I was about to protest, when his words stopped me in my tracks.
“I’ve found a suitable place for the girl.”
A surge of warmth rose in my heart. It was me and my new mama bear instincts that had insisted on bringing the miniature pirate-queen-to-be along. My dear husband had been about as pleased about her presence as he would have been about a kleptomaniac magpie living in his wallet. Yet still, he had brought her along. For my sake. And now he was going the extra mile and finding her a home. An actual, permanent, good home.
He had changed as well, hadn’t he? I had married a good man.
Or rather, an adequate one.
“What are you smirking about, Mrs Ambrose?”
“Me?” I widened my eyes in sweet guilelessness. “Nothing. Nothing at all. Except…”
Standing up on tiptoes, I pressed a long, hard kiss onto his lips. When I broke away, he blinked rapidly, twice.
“What was that for?”
“Nothing.” I repeated and linked my arm with his. “Let’s go get Leah before she hoists a pirate flag atop Empire House, shall we?”
Maybe it was just my imagination, but after those words, Mr Ambrose seemed to walk just a little bit faster than before.
Unlike I had half feared (and half hoped), Leah wasn’t busy turning Empire House into her own personal pirate HQ. Instead, we found her on the top floor, gazing out of a window, cuddled up on a sofa.
Yes, Mr Ambrose owned padded furniture. Withcushions. Shocking, I know.
But right now, there were even more important things to focus on—like the way the little girl was staring out at the city, her eyes as wide as dinner plates. Was she afraid?
What stupid question! Of course she was afraid! She was all alone in a strange city after basically being kidnapped from the life she had known and loved. The fact that what she’d known and loved was shooting and robbing people was beside the point.
I was at her side in three steps.
“Don’t you worry!” I hugged her close. “It’s all right. You’ll be all right. You’ll…huh?”
She wasn’t paying any attention to my words. In fact, she wasn’t even looking at me. From the moment we entered the room, she had been staring avidly at Mr Rikkard Ambrose.
“Y-you own all this?” She gestured at Empire House and the courtyard visible through the window, bustling with office workers and cargo wagons. “Everything?”
Like a mountain king from on high, Mr Rikkard Ambrose gazed down at the little girl. “Indeed.”
“How did you do it?” she demanded. “Where did you steal all that from?Howdid you steal it?”
