Page 195 of New Storm Rising
“What…what do I do now?”
“Now?” Rising to his feet, Mr Rikkard Ambrose put his documents aside and strode over to me. “Now there’s only one thing we can do.”
Tentatively, I glanced up to where he was towering over me. “Yes?”
He fixed his deep, dark eyes on me and, reaching out, gently touched my cheek. “Go on our sightseeing tour.”
Where is another pillow when you need one?
But before I could find anything else to throw at him, I felt his hand clasp mine and pull. In a blink, I was up and in his arms as he held me gently.
“Get dressed. We’re on our honeymoon, are we not?” Leaning forward, he caressed my cheek. Closing my eyes, I leaned into his touch. “It’s time we start acting like it.”
Heck! First he makes me want to strangle him, and then…
Then he suddenly pulls something like this.
The caress of his fingers abruptly disappeared.
Click.
I opened my eyes—only to see the room distinctly devoid of husbands. The hint of warmth on my cheek was the only thing he had left behind.
“Hurry up and dress,” his cool, commanding voice came from out in the corridor. “Time waits for no man!”
For the first time since I’d received yesterday’s shock, my lips curled up into a smile. “Well, it’s lucky that I’m a woman, then!” I shouted back. “And as long as we’re trading quotes, how about ‘Patience is a virtue’?”
The only answer I received was silence.
I grinned. Yay! Victory!
Ten minutes later I was dressed and on my way down the stairs. Mr Rikkard Ambrose, oh wonder of wonders, was actually waiting for me in the lobby. Not reading through documents. Not counting money. Just…waiting.
“Shall we?” Gazing right into my eyes, he extended his arm.
I took a deep breath, then linked my arm with his. “We shall.”
And, together we strode out onto the busy New York street.
“So, where do we go first?” I enquired eagerly. “A five-star restaurant? A theatre on Broadway? An art exhibition?”
“No.” Pointing ahead, he shook his head. “We’re in New York, are we not? To truly take in the jewel that is this incredible city, one should visit its most marvellous architectural wonders such as the High Bridge, the Trinity Church—”[41]
“—and the many other places that can be entered without paying entrance fees?”
Half-turning to look into my eyes, he reached out to cup my face. “Mrs Ambrose…a true man measures his worth in strength and love, not money.”
“You are really amazingly talented at spouting stuff that makes you being stingy seem romantic, you know that, don’t you?”
“Naturally. I am talented at everything. Now let’s go, shall we?”
His grip on my hand tightened, and together, we started strolling away from our hotel. Thus, our tour through the Big Apple began. We wandered down the busy streets, enjoyed all the cheap yet delicious food from dozens of vendors, climbed onto the tallest buildings to feel the wind in our faces, and last, but not least, took a rowing boat out onto the ocean. Cuddled together, we sat in the creaking little boat, gazing at the deep blue ocean glittering in the sunlight.
“So,” I asked, snuggling up more closely against him, “what now?”
He cocked his head. “Is it not obvious, Mrs Ambrose?”
I blinked. “Obvious?”
