Page 220 of Storm of Bells
‘Why don’t we step inside together?’
A smile spread across my face. I could see itin his eyes. He loved me. He truly loved me. And, much, much moreimportantly: heknewme.
I took his hand and, side by side, we steppedacross the threshold. When we reached the stairs, I grinned up tohim.
‘Nowyou may carry me.’
He cocked his head. ‘I may, may I?’
‘Yes, Sir.’
Without another word, he swept my legs outfrom under me. Snuggling into his hard and yet oh-so-comfortablechest, I let myself be carried up the creaking wooden stairs whilelong, elegant fingers stroked my hair.
‘So…Your quest for equality keeps you frombeing carried over the threshold, but not from being carried up thestairs?’
‘Of course.’ Nodding into his chest, Iconfirmed this rather obvious point. ‘Thresholds are sexist. Stairsaren’t. Besides, my feet are hurting from these darn shoes!’
‘I shall commit your pearls of wisdom tomemory.’
‘Good idea.’ Patting his hand, I snuggledmore tightly against him. ‘You do that.’
With determined strides, he made his way downthe corridor. Soon, we reached the door to our room. For that waswhat it was now:ourroom, inourhouse. As therealization settled deep in my heart, I felt warmth blossom insideme. I had never really had a home. Oh, sure, I had lived at UncleBufford’s place, and, at a few rare and special occasions, he hadactually made me feel welcome. And I had Ella and my friends. Buthaving a place that was undoubtedly and unequivocallymine…
That was something completely and utterly newto me.
Yet now, I had a place. A home.Wehada home.
I heard a creak as Mr Ambrose pushed open thedoor to our room. A few long, slow strides ate up the distance.Gently, almost tenderly, he lowered me onto the bed. Heartpounding, I lay there, gazing up at the tall, chiselled figure ofMr Rikkard Ambrose standing above me.
Reaching down, Mr Ambrose touched myface.
‘Finally…mine!’ His voice was a demand. Anorder. A law of nature.
‘Chauvinistic son of a bachelor!’ I tried tosound indignant. I really tried. Yet somehow I ended up grinninglike a love-struck loon, my eyes shining. ‘Women aren’t anyone’spossessions—and I most certainly don’t belong to you!’
Leaning down towards me, his fists pushedinto the mattress on either side, caging me in. His eyes burnedinto me with cold fire. ‘Indeed?’
‘Yes!’
‘Well, well…’ Smoothly sliding onto the bed,he lowered himself until his face was only inches away from mine.‘Then I’ll have to prove you wrong!’
A StormyNight
Breathless, I gazed upat the towering figure of Mr Rikkard Ambrose above me, that oneword echoing in my head.
‘Mine!’
I expected him to pounce on me, but he tookme completely by surprise when he picked me up from the bedagain.
Huh? What was going on?
Gently, he lifted me and, turning me in theair, placed me on my feet with my back towards him. I tried to turnaround to face him, but he grasped my shoulders, keeping me inplace. What was he doing? What this his way of trying to prove Iwas his? If so, I didn’t think much of it. I—
That was the moment when his fingers touchedthe buttons at the back of my dress.
Oh.
My breathing sped up. This was…not what I hadexpected. I had inspected ferocity. I had expected fire, meltingeverything between us in a violent explosion of need. Instead, hewas gentle. Loving. Everything I had never thought he could be.
