Page 81 of New Storm Rising
“I should hope so,” Mr Ambrose told me, narrowing his eyes infinitesimally. “Do you have any idea how expensive chocolate is out here in the West?”
My grin widened, licking my lips, treasuring the last traces of tasty goodness. “No. But I’m sure you’re going to tell me.
“Fifteen dollars and ninety-nine cents, Mrs Ambrose. Fifteen dollars and ninety-nine cents.”
“Which is totally beyond your budget, considering that, you know, you own a bloody gold mine and all that.”
“That,” Mr Ambrose stated as he folded up the remaining chocolate in its wrapping paper and quickly hid it away, “is completely beside the point.”
“How about another bar?” I enquired, hopefully.
“No.”
“A piece? Just one tiny little piece?”
“No.”
“You’re no fun.”
Before I could blink, Mr Rikkard Ambrose had put aside the chocolate and was on the bed, hovering above me. Idly I noted that, in addition to the chocolate, he had also put aside his hat, cane, bow tie, tailcoat and shirt.
Holy moly, he’s fast!
“Want to bet on that?” he breathed, bending down until his face was only inches away from mine.
I swallowed.
“Since when are you a betting man? I thought you’d never do anything so frivolous as to risk money?”
In an instant, he’d grabbed hold of the back of my head, keeping me steady, unable to escape.
“Who says there’ll be a risk of me losing?”
And his lips came down on mine.
I had thought there was nothing more delicious than chocolate in this world. I had been absolutely, completely sure.
So why, tasting his lips, did I suddenly have doubts?
“Open up for me,” Mr Rikkard Ambrose whispered against my lips. “Let me show you how a real man wins a bet.”
Ah. That’s why.
I opened my mouth—to plead, to protest, I did not know—but before I could get out a single syllable, he took advantage of my parted lips. Ruthlessly. In a blink, my breath was stolen and my will to resist sold to Mr Rikkard Ambrose’s pawn shop. I would not be getting it back any time soon.
“Now…” Mr Ambrose growled, his hands trailing over my collarbone until they reached the top button of my blouse. “I think it’s time formeto get something sweet, don’t you?”
Rrrrrip!
I felt a blissful smile spreading across my face. Interesting? Forget interesting! This was going to be the best bloody honeymoon ever!
***
“So…sey will be giving up se farce any day now, won’t sey?” asked De Ravera.
De La Fuente reached out to pull a watch out of his pocket. The fancy kind, that allowed him to see the date as well as the time of day. It showed that, since last they discussed this subject, three days had already passed.
“Si,” De La Fuente confirmed, nodding hurriedly. “Any day now.”
