'Welcome back, Miss Linton.' The cool voice welcomed me the moment I stepped into the entrance hall. 'And where exactly have you been?'
Crap, crap, crap!
My eyes zeroed in on the tall, dark figure standing at the top of the entrance hall staircase. His eyes were glacial and...yes.
His little finger was twitching at double tempo. Yay!
Quickly, I hid the hand that was still holding the revolver behind my back. Behind me, Barb sniffed my hand and chewed on the gun barrel. Down, boy! Down!
'Oh. Um...hello, Sir. Lovely day, isn't it?'
'That, Miss Linton, depends on your definition of "lovely".' Dark eyes blazing, he started stalking down the steps towards me. 'Some people, for instance, might think that the fair weather does not count as much as recent events.'
He knows! He knows! How the heck does he bloody know?
Did I really have to ask? This was the man who, when going out of the country, had his bodyguard shadow me, disguised as a bearded rosebush. Did I really think he'd miss a clandestine meeting with his archenemy?
Well, I was still left with the trusted friend of all delinquents and scallywags: plausible deniability. Carefully, I slipped the revolver into the back of my skirtâhoping to hell I had remembered to put the safety onâand started to retreat.
'Um...it's not what you think. I just...I was just...'
'Don't bother.' His arctic eyes flashed. 'I know everything.'
Crap! He really does know! How? Is he omniscient?
Not that I didn't intend to tell him. Of course I was going to tell him! He was the man of my dreams. The man I loved more than anything else in this world. I wanted to share everything with him.
Eventually.
Once he didn't look like he wanted to eat me alive and spit me out again. And once I'd had a chance to perform a full-body-search for that key of his. Ah, the joys of being blackmailed...
Coming to a stop in front of me, Mr Rikkard Ambrose raised his hand, and jabbed one finger at me.
'I. Know. Everything.'
Crap, crap, crap, craâ
'You've been out with your "friends", picking out wedding dresses. Dresses paid for by my money. Just you wait until I get my hands on you...!'
Oh.
Thank you so much, Dear Lord I don't believe in!
'Yes, exactly!' Beaming, I nodded so hard my head nearly fell off. 'I've been really, really bad. I spent more money in one afternoon than in the last two years combined, and not a penny of it is mine. Would you like to inflict some horrible punishment on me?'
His eyes narrowed infinitesimally. 'Well...yes, but...'
'Excellent, excellent! Let's go upstairs, shall we? And let's close the front door, all right? I'm sure there couldn't possibly be anything interesting outside, and, anyway, I'm sure you'd like to concentrate on punitive measures. What would you like to do? Cut my wages in half? Cut me in half? Let's go do that, shall we?'
Grabbing him by the arm, I started to manoeuvre him towards the stairs, andâ
Thud!
Slowly, mine and Mr Ambrose's gazes dropped to the ground. Wire, with admirably horrendous timing, shoved my skirt aside with his wet nose, revealing the revolver lying on the floor. Mr Ambrose raised his gaze to mine, his ice-cold eyes boring into me.
I shrugged. 'Have you ever tried shopping on the weekend? It's crazy, I tell you! It's best to take precautions.'
'Indeed?'
'Oh yes, indeed.' Bending down to grab my revolver, I kicked the front door shut and grabbed his arm. 'Now let's get upstairs so you can remonstrate with me, shall we?'
And I started dragging him towards the stairs.
'Not that I don't agree you deserve it, Miss Linton, but...you seem strangely eager.'
'Eager? Me? Good God, no. I'm terrified of your righteous anger, can't you tell?' I batted my eyelashes up at him. 'Let's go upstairs, shall we?'
He leaned closer, inspecting me as if I were a heifer available for purchase, and found lacking. 'Something smells rather fishy here, Miss Linton. What secrets have you been hiding from me?'
A shrill girlish giggle came from far above, followed by the clatter of feet running along the manor corridors far too fast to be ladylike. A corner of my mouth curled up.
'You mean apart from inviting those three lovely ladies?'
Please don't ask about the gun. Please don't ask me where I came from. Prostitutes are so much more interesting subjects for a soon-to-be married couple.
With admirable timing, Amy stuck her head out of a door on the upstairs landing.
''ey, Lilly! Da bachelors around 'ere are dissapearin' faster dan mayflies! I know your fellow is off-limits, and now that Cora, the silly goose, is moonin' over a man, I'll 'ave to keep my fingers off dat one, tooâ'
'I ain't moonin'!' Came Cora's protest from somewhere in the background. 'I'm most definitely notâ'
'Oh, shut up about yer rosy little romance, ye! I'm talkin' about somethin' important 'ere! So...where was I...ah, yes! Sex and solicitation! Your fellow is a no-go zone, but...what about da rest of da wedding guests? Are dey fair game?'
Mr Ambrose stiffened. Eyes, flashing, he turned towards Amy, opened his mouth andâ
'By all means,' I called up the stairs. 'Have fun!'
Mr Ambrose's mouth slammed shut again, and he whirled towards me.
'Thanks!' Amy called down. 'Did ye 'ear that, girls? It's open season!'
Another round of giggles erupted. Giggles which came not only from Carol and Jenny, but from at least two more females as well. One sounded suspiciously like Adaira.
Footsteps hurried away, and a door slammed shut.
I cleared my throat. 'Um. Yes. Where were we?'
'You,' he told me, taking a step towards me, 'are going to pay for this.'
'Indeed?'
'After you have gotten rid of those three troublemakers! I won't have my wedding disrupted.'
And your sister corrupted?
Being not entirely suicidal, I didn't say that last part out loud.
'Oh, well, of course.' I nodded. 'That's understandable. We wouldn't want any disruptions.'
'Exactly.'
'So they'll have to stay.'
'What?'
'Well,' I told him with a smile, 'I can't very well have a wedding without my bridesmaids, can I? Especially not my maid of honour.'
'Maid...of...'
Patting him on the back, I left him standing there, his mouth slightly open, and started to dash up the stairs.
'Take your time to digest it, will you? I'll be upstairs.'
I was halfway up the stairs, beforeâ
'Stop! Stay right where you are!'
'Pardon? I didn't hear you.'
'I said stop!'
Running faster, I reached the top landing and dashed down the corridor. Halfway down the passage, I met Amy strolling in the other direction.
'Ah, there ye are! I wanted to ask yeâ'
'Not right now! I'm busy!'
'Busy? What do you mâoh.' She spotted Mr Rikkard Ambrose appearing at the end of the corridor, like a dark angel of vengeance. The widest, most salacious grin I had ever seen on her face spread across her features. And with Amy, that was saying something. 'Ah, I see. Ye've got to keep them on their toes, don't ye? A little chase is just the thing to get the pecker up.'
'What? No, Iâ'
'Would ye like to borrow my bag of...equipment?'
I threw a glance at Mr Rikkard Ambrose's fast approaching figure. Maybe it was just my imagination, but it seemed as though at the word 'equipment', his little finger did a rapid tap-dance against his fist.
'Err...Maybe later.'
'Miss Linton!' Mr Ambrose's voice cut through the air like a razor of ice. 'Come here!'
'Um...have to go now! Bye!'
I dashed farther down the corridor. Behind me, I could hear the measured footsteps of Mr Rikkard Ambrose. Darn! He wasn't even running. He was just marching, but with those damnable long legs of his, he was still catching up fast!
Too bad. I'll guess he'll catch you sooner or later, won't he?
Trying my best not to grin from ear to ear, I dashed around the closest corner.
'Miss Linton! I command you to stop! You cannot be serious about this matter. A wedding is a serious affair and you cannot expect me to condone the presence of these three troublesome, nefariousâ'
Adaira stuck her head into the corridor.
'Is someone talking about me?'
Mr Ambrose's footsteps ceased abruptly. 'No! Go back to your room!'
'Butâ'
'No buts! Go back to your room, lock the door, throw the key out of the window and wait in there until those three females have left!'
Carol and Jenny stuck their heads out of Adaira's room right beside her. 'Which three females?' Jenny enquired. 'Dere ain't any bad apples among yer lady friends, are dere?'
My dear future husband gave an indistinguishable noise, and I decided it might be a good idea to get a head start.
'Adaira! Get out of that room!'
'But I thought you wanted me to stay insiâ'
'Get out, now!'
'Men! You can't make up your mind, can you? Very well...' She gave a sigh, and I heard footsteps. 'Come on, you two, let's go.'
'Not you two!' Mr Ambrose's command cut through the air. 'You stay in there!'
'But that way we ain't able to chat with yer sister!'
'Exactly!' Adaira added. 'They're such nice girls. And they have such interesting stories to tellâ'
That sentence was interrupted by a yelp and a door slamming shut. I didn't need to hear Adaira's following barrage of curses to divine that Mr Ambrose was manhandling his sister to a safe location, out of earshot of Jenny and Carol. I took the opportunity and dashed the rest of the way down the corridor, and straight into our room.
There, I waited.
And waited.
And...
Hard, rapid footsteps came down the corridor. My heart started pounding rapidly against my ribs. He was coming.
Any moment now...
Any moment...
The door flew open. Mr Rikkard Ambrose marched into the room and his arctic gaze swept the chamber, looking for meâin vain.
Did I mention I had been waiting behind the door?
Sliding out from behind my hiding place, I sidled towards himâand pounced! My arms wrapped around his neck and, pulling the startled business magnate down and around, I threw myself at him, claiming his lips and the rest of him as mine.
'You!' The growl against my lips was an accusation and adulation in one. 'You are impossible! Who else would invite three ladies of the night to their wedding?'
I consider the question. 'A reluctant bride in an arranged marriage with a knack for inventive preventive measures?'
'You...!' Grabbing hold of me, he whirled me around until my back was to the roomâand to the bed. Slowly, he started advancing towards me, pushing me back. 'Have you any idea what you have done?'
'Err...invited my friends to my wedding?'
'You,' he whispered, steadily pushing me back farther and father, his eyes glittering, 'have invited three notorious...females to a house filled almost exclusively with unmarried men!'
'Oh. Um. I hadn't viewed the situation from that perspectâ'
Another step towards the bed. 'And let's not forget the few dozen unmarried young ladies whom you also invited, and who would like nothing better than to snatch up one of the aforementioned unmarried men and are prepared to wage war on anyone getting in their way?'
'Ah. Good point. I hadn't really considered that.'
'Not considered that? How could you not consider that? Nothing could be worse than this! This place will be a madhouse!'
I did my best to beam up at him. 'In other words, it'll be the dream home I've always imagined.' I reached up to slide my arms around his neck. 'Isn't this fabulous?'
'That, Miss Linton, would not be the way I would describe the current situation.' Big, fat icicles hung from his voice, threatening to fall and spear anyone who dared walk below them. 'Oh, and one other matter...'
I cleared my throat. 'Y-yes?'
His eyes glittered, and I got the queasy feeling that one of the aforementioned icicles was dangling over my head. Now I knew how that poor old Damocles fellow must have felt.
'Did I mention that most of the aforementioned young men, according to my intelligence on the subject, are for some reason former suitors of a certain young lady I know?' His hand reached up to capture my face, knuckles stroking across my cheek. A threat. A promise. And so much more.
I took another step backâand my heels bumped against the bed. 'You don't say. A certain young lady? Do I know her?'
'Who knows? But one thing is certain.' His eyes blazed with arctic cold. 'I do. Intimately.'
My eyes bored into his, unblinking. 'Not intimately enough.'
And then my hands were in his hair, pulling him roughly towards me, taking what was mine, moulding myself against him. I could feel his stone-hard body stiffen against me.
'What are you doing, Miss Linton?'
'Showing my love for my husband-to-be, of course,' I breathed, slipping my hands into his back pockets. Hm. No keys. Such a pity. I supposed I would have to keep going. 'What else would I be doing?'
He opened his mouth to replyâand I promptly used the opportunity, sealing it with a scorching kiss of the French variety. Vive la France!
'Do you disagree, Sir?' I whispered. 'Do you think you know me intimately enough?'
Tearing himself away, he stared down at me with a ferocity in his eyes that made my bones feel liquid.
'"Enough" is not part of my vocabulary, Miss Linton.'
'Mine neither.' Grabbing him by the lapels, I whirled us around and pushed. And somehow, incredibly, the man who had stood upright all his life even if the whole world crashed down on his shoulders, the man who had fought his way through poverty and exile on his own two feet, fell at the soft push.
I smirked down at him. 'You fell? Just from that little push from me?'
'No.' Reaching up, he cupped my face. 'I didn't fall from you. I fell for you.'
Heat gathered in my belly, spreading all through my body as if my blood were boiling. In a flash, I was up on the bed, until I was face-to-face with him, hovering a few inches above his perfect, chiselled face. Dark, sea-coloured eyes gazed up into mine.
'What are you up to, Miss Linton?'
'Me?' I asked innocently, my fingers sliding down his sides into his coat pockets. 'I'm just expressing my love. Why would I be up to something? What makes you say such a thing?'
'Knowing you.'
Ah. Good point.
'How dare you insinuate such a thing?' I demanded, while insinuating my hand into his inner coat pocket. Still no key. Damn! He glanced down at my arm and, quickly, I pressed a kiss on his throat. Instantly, he stiffened below me, and sucked in a breath. 'Don't you trust me, Sir?'
'No.'
'Smart man.' Grinning, I let my lips wander down, down, farther down over his skin until I finally reached the top button of his shirt. My nimble fingers made short work of it.
'Miss Linton! It is the middle of the day!'
Another button popped open. Another kiss. I felt the muscles of his chest flex under my lips. 'You don't say. I must say, I assumed as much from the big, fiery ball in the sky. Did you know it's called "sun"?'
'People are right down the hall!'
'That didn't stop you last time.'
Silence.
'Oh.' I grinned. 'I see. By "people", you mean "my mother".'
'Mr Linton...!' Two iron-hard hands gripped my shirt, threatening. The meaning was clear. Don't continue. Don't you dare continue with the M-word now!
My grin widened.
'Don't worry. Your mother might be just around the corner, but so are three professional prostitutes. That kind of cancels out the mother factor, don't you think?'
In answer, a noise came out of his mouth that sent an ice-cold shiver down my back. Looking for keys was such a fabulous pastime!
Another button popped open.
Oh yes, fabulous. Especially with all the other stuff you found on the way...
'Miss...Miss Linton!'
'Yes, Sir?'
'Desist! I order...I order you...to...'
I reached the lower pockets on his shirts. For some reason, though, they weren't my prime interest in the moment.
'Don't you remember, Sir?' I pressed a gentle kiss where, a moment ago, his shirt had been, and now there was only him. Hard, implacable, wonderful him. 'I don't have to follow your orders anymore.'
He cracked.
In an instant, hands swept me away. I found myself flat on my back with him hovering above me, his open shirt fluttering in the wind like the sail of aâ
Oh, who the heck cared about the shirt?
He certainly didn't.
In a flash, he had torn the thing off and it sailed into the corner of the room.
'Careful, Sir, careful!' I admonished. 'That's only ten years old and still in mint condiâmmph!'
His lips covered mine, cutting me off, and...oh...
Normally, I hated nothing more than someone trying to shut me up. Freedom of speech was an indispensable right! But this? I could get used to this. Scratch that. I was going to get used to this, and go on strike if I didn't get my regular dose. His hands were everywhere, undoing my laces, pulling aside layer after layer of clothing. And another layer. And another. Darn, someone really needed to simplify ladies' underwear! Meanwhile, my hands were no less busy, sliding down his torso, feeling every hard ridge and valley of his upper body until they arrived at his trousers and slipped into his side pockets to check forâ
He stiffened.
Uh-oh...
In a flash, two strong hands were wrapped around my wrists and tore them out of his ten-year-old mint-condition trousers. A moment later, my arms were pinned to the bed, and his face was inches away from mine. Cold, hard, immeasurably deep eyes stared straight into mine.
'What,' he asked, his voice colder and more deadly than the tip of a deep-frozen bayonet, 'are you doing, Miss Linton?'
'Me?' I blinked up at him innocently. 'Nothing, I, um...I was just...'
Darn, where was a good lie when you needed one?
I cleared my throat. 'Well...I was going to wait to tell you until after...you know. So you'd be in a better mood.'
His gaze didn't flicker away from mine for an instant. 'Do I look as if my mood is going to improve in foreseeable future, Miss Linton?'
'Err...no.'
'I thought as much. Now. What. Were. You. Doing.'
I cleared my throat again. 'Um...do you remember how you said that nothing could be worse than a house full ladies of the night running rampant?'
'Yes?'
'Hold on to that thought. Hold onto it really, really tight.'
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My dear Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen,
Oh dear. Lilly will surely trigger an... 'interesting' reaction, don't you think? ;)
Incidentally, by now I have started working on the draft for the Storm and Silence spin-off! More news and cover reveal coming soon!
Yours Truly
Sir Rob
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GLOSSARY:
Mayfly - A certain species of fly that only lives around one day.
Damocles - An ancient king famous for living with a sword dangling over his head.