Page 32 of Storm over the Caribbean
“You…you…!”
“Wastrel? Profligate?”
“No.” Pressing his forehead to mine, he closed his eyes. “You’re my littleifrit.”
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 stressmight, understand why you might wish to live in a home instead of a hotel. But a homeright nextto 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!”
