Page 69 of Storm over the Caribbean
I froze. That tone of voice of his…
My eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why not?”
“Well, because…” He started to chew faster and swallowed again, then fell silent. Apparently, he decided it was bad manners to talk with his mouth full.
Yeah, right!
I stared straight at him, trying to force him to meet my eyes. He wouldn’t.
“Why won’t you let me eat one?”
Silence.
“Mr Ambrose? Give that fruit to me,now!”
More silence. The only answer was his hand tightening around my wrist. I stared at him. What the heck was going on? Why would he—
My eyes widened.
Oh heck no! He wouldn’t, would he?
Yes, a little voice at the back of my mind replied.Yes, he absolutely would.
The little voice’s suspicions were confirmed a moment later when Mr Rikkard Ambrose started to sway. The colour of his face changed ever so slightly, and he stumbled backwards.
“Mr Ambrose? Mr Ambrose!”
I lunged forward—but not in time. He hit the mossy forest floor with a muffled thud. Instantly, he tried to fight against it, to push himself upwards—only to collapse once more, his fingers twitching spasmodically.
“You son of a…!” Kneeling down next to him, I grabbed hold of his wrist, trying to feel his pulse. “You said you knew it was edible!”
He met my eyes and, for once, his were not cold. They were deep as ever, yes. As dark as ever. But at the very bottom of that bottomless pool, I saw it. Love. Self-bloody-sacrifice.
“I…lied,” he croaked.
And his skull hit the ground, his eyes rolling up into his head.
Desperate Measures
“I lied.”My husband’s voice echoed in my mind as I stared down at his unmoving form.“I lied.”
Grabbing him by the shoulders, I shook him.
“Hey! Don’t you black out on me! What do you mean, you lied? You bloody idiot! Why on earth would you—”
His eyelids fluttered open one more time. “Had to make…sure.” With a trembling hand, he reached out until his fingers brushed against my face, then trailed down to my belly. “Couldn’t…risk…”
Then he sagged back, finally unconscious.
“Oh bloody hell, no! Don’t you dare do this to me, Rikkard Ambrose! Do you hear? Don’t you dare!”
He didn’t even twitch.
Damn him! Damn that frigging, bloody son of a bachelor!
Instantly, I knew. I knew what he had done. He had used himself as a human guinea pig! Just randomly picked a fruit from the nearest tree and eaten it, in the hope he wouldn’tbloody die from it!
Stupid, blasted, chauvinistic—
