by Robert Thier
Slowly, Mr Rikkard Ambrose rose from behind the table and started to stalk towards me.
‘Why?’ he demanded.
‘Why what?’
‘Don’t play dumb with me, Miss Linton. Why won’t you marry me?’
‘What does it matter? I simply won’t! The reasons are of no importance!’
‘Oh yes, they are! A no is just a problem to be solved. Tell me!’
His command slammed down on me with all the cold force of his voice - the powerful voice of a man who knew how to make men obey.
Well…how fortunate for me that I wasn’t a man, then.
‘No!’
He took another step closer. His eyes roamed my face, searching for clues with perfect attention to detail.
‘You’re afraid.’
Crap!
‘No, I’m not!’
Another step closer. He had almost reached me when suddenly he veered sideways and began to circle me. I felt like a shipment of prized goods being evaluated for purchase, or a company analysed before the big takeover. Well…maybe, to him, I was.
‘What are you afraid of, Miss Linton?’ his whisper came from behind me, cool and in control of everything. In spite of this, no, because of it, it was the most seductive thing I’d ever heard. ‘Just tell me. Problems exist to be solved. Let me solve yours. Marry me.’
‘Marriage is the problem!’ I snapped. ‘I will never marry!’
‘So…’ He appeared in front of me again, his dark eyes glittering with knowledge. Knowledge is Power is Time is Money. His words echoed in my mind as I stared up at him, unable to break his gaze. ‘It’s not marriage to me you object to. It’s marriage on principle.’
Bloody hell, he was quick! Why did I have to fall in love with someone who wasn’t just too smart for his own good, but mine as well?
Hard hands slammed into the chaise longue on either side of me, caging me in. Leaning down, Rikkard Ambrose brought his perfect, chiselled face within a few inches of mine.
‘Marry. Me.’
‘No!’ Quickly, I ducked under his arm and jumped to my feet. Taking a few hasty steps backward, I threw my arms into the air. ‘Why would you want to marry me, anyway?’
His eyes narrowed infinitesimally. ‘Humility? From you?’
‘Ha! You wish!’ My eyes narrowed as well. And not just a bit. ‘I know that I’m fantabulous. I’m just not sure why you would agree. Knowledge is Power is Time is Money, remember? A marriage with me won’t bring you power or money, that’s for sure. And I’ll probably take up lots of your time, particularly at night!’
‘Miss Linton!’
‘That leaves knowledge.’ I took a step forward, one corner of my mouth curving up. ‘Is that it? Would you like to know me, Sir? In every sense of the word?’
The only warning I got was a growl an instant before he pounced on me. His fingers buried themselves in my hair and pulled me helplessly towards him. His mouth hit mine in an explosion of a kiss. A hard kiss. A dominant kiss. It proved every word I’d thought and spoken. And still…I couldn’t stop. We kissed and kissed and kissed until the world was sparkling with imaginary stars and the blood was burning in my veins.
When we finally broke apart, my knees felt weak and I had to cling on to him to remain upright.
‘Why?’ I demanded. ‘Why me?’
His face was a mask of stone and ice. How could he look as cool and composed after a kiss like this?
Easily. By being Rikkard Ambrose.
‘Why?’ I repeated in a whisper.
‘For simple reasons,’ he told me, his voice just as cool and composed as his face. ‘I had always planned to marry at some point in the future. Contrary to my preferences on the matter, I shall not live forever, and I need an heir to my fortune. You seem as capable of producing one as any other woman of marriageable age.’
Why, thank you for the compliment, Sir. You are too kind.
‘Besides,’ a muscle in his throat moved as he swallowed. ‘After what I told you on the bridge…’
He left the sentence hanging in the air.
I promptly grabbed it and rammed it into the ground. ‘You mean the fact that you love me?’
‘Shh!’ He let go of me as if I were on fire. Hurriedly taking a step back, he glanced around to see if anyone was in hearing range. ‘Silence, Miss Linton!’
‘What?’ I blinked. ‘You mean about the fact that you’re in love with me?’
‘I said silence!’ Dear God, was it my imagination, or did Rikkard Ambrose actually look nervous? He did! Rushing to the door, he ripped it open, glanced outside and slammed it shut again. Was he checking for people listening at keyholes? Oh my Lord, this was too good! A grin tugged at the corners of my mouth.
Capping my hands around my mouth, I took a deep, deep breath. ‘Hello? Anyone around? Mr Rikkard Ambrose loves me! He is head over heels in love with me and wants to marry me! Anyone interested? He loooves me! Would anyone like details? No? Good, but I’ll repeat it anyway just in case anyone hasn’t heard yet! He loooommmph!’
A masculine hand slapped down across my mouth.
‘Mmm! Mmmph!’
‘Miss Linton,’ he enquired in a very calm, very controlled voice. ‘Do you know the meaning of the word “discreet”?’
When he carefully removed his hand from my mouth, I told him with a cheeky smile: ‘Yes. It means “separate”.’
Cold fire flashed in his eyes. ‘You…! We’ll be lucky if no one heard you.’
‘Don’t worry,’ I reassured him. ‘The walls of this house are at least as thick as your head.’
Sliding his grip from my mouth to my chin, he turned my head to face him. The cold fire was still burning bright there.
‘I want you. I even…well, you remember what I said on the bridge.’
I batted my eyelashes at him. ‘That you love me?’
‘Do not push me, Miss Linton. Don’t. Use. That. Word.’
His tone was such that, for once, I did as suggested.
‘I want you,’ he repeated. ‘I even…care for you to some extent.’
Some extent my rosy smelling foot!
‘So why not marry me? My offer is the best one you are ever likely to receive.’
Oh, thank you so much for pointing that out. That was really wonderful to hear.
‘It would be useless to deny these facts,’ he told me. ‘Marriage is the logical conclusion. Once we are wed, you will belong to me fully and completely. I will owe you my protection, and you will owe me your love and obedience. It is the perfect agreement. Why will you not consent?’
I gazed up into his cold, calm, unbelievably beautiful face and wondered how a man this intelligent could be so dense.
‘You just listed all the reasons,’ I whispered. ‘There’s more to life than belonging to a man. I will not sign my freedom over to anyone - not even you.’
Especially not you. Because you’re the one person that might be able to make me forget to regret.
His grip tightened. His eyes bored into me with renewed force, trying to subdue me with sheer force of will - and nearly succeeding. ‘Marry me!’
I swallowed. I had to gather all my strength to squeeze out the one syllable that saved my life and chipped a tiny, but very important piece off my heart.
‘No.’
Then, suddenly, a grin curved up one corner of my mouth. ‘There’s always an alternative, you know.’
He blinked. Mr Rikkard Ambrose actually blinked.
‘Alternative?’
‘Yes. We could try living in sin.’
Only on very few occasions had I been privileged enough to see something akin to a facial expression flicker over that stone mask he called his face. Never before had it been as sweet as this one.
‘I beg your pardon, Miss Linton?’
‘You have it,’ I told him generously. ‘So, would you like to take my clothes off now?’
The temperature in the in the room instantly shifted. But did it go up or down, or all over t
he place? I had no idea. His eyes were suddenly burning into mine in an entirely new way, and shivers were shooting up and down my spine. I was hot and cold and everything beyond, all at once. When his hands dug into my arms, pulling me hard against his chest, my breath hitched.
‘Have you lost your mind, Miss Linton?’
‘I don’t know, Sir. Would you like me to check my pockets?’
His sea-coloured gaze devoured my eyes, my face, my entire body. ‘I am a gentleman, Miss Linton. I have done many things in my life - fought, threatened, even killed when it was necessary. But never have I ever taken advantage of a woman.’
One corner of my mouth quirked up. ‘Only because you thought it would be a waste of your precious time.’
‘Well yes, but-’
‘Thought as much.’
His grip tightened even more. For a moment, it became almost painful. Almost. ‘My motivation is not the issue here!’
‘Isn’t it?’ Slowly, I leaned toward him until my breath was skimming over his skin. I felt him stiffen under my hands. ‘There’s no need for promises or lifelong commitments. You want me. I want you, and have given up wondering why. Let’s do this. Right here. Right now.’
‘No. Marry me!’
‘No. Seduce me!’
‘That,’ he ground out between clenched teeth,’ is what you are doing to me, Miss Linton.’
‘Oh? Well… I guess I am.’ I grinned. ‘Is it working?’
‘No!’
‘Too bad.’ Riding up on my tiptoes, I brought my mouth to his throat, skimming my lips over his skin, up to his ear. ‘Are you sure?’
A muscle in his jaw twitched with the effort to remain immobile. I kissed his neck, and his entire body shuddered. ‘I. Am. A. Gentleman.’
‘What,’ I whispered, sliding one hand up to the top button of his tailcoat, ‘if I don’t want you gentle?’
Something snapped. Maybe something in him. Maybe something in both of us. In an instant, I was pushed back against the door, the hard surface heating beneath me. Grabbing my hands, Mr Ambrose slammed them against the wood.
‘These are too dangerous to be allowed to roam free,’ he growled.
Breathing heavily, I gazed up into his mesmerising eyes. ‘I could say the same of you, Sir.’
‘No, you couldn’t.’
‘Oh? Why not?’
‘Because you can’t say anything while I do this,’ he told me, and claimed my mouth with a kiss. My knees buckled. If he hadn’t been holding me upright, I would have fallen flat on my face. This was a kiss unlike any we had shared before. We had kissed with need; we had kissed with passion. We had even - when Mr Ambrose had temporarily taken leave of his senses - kissed with tenderness. But never ever before had he kissed me in a way that sent a message: you’re mine. And it’s only a matter of time before you realise that.
He tore his mouth away and stared at me, a cold ferocity in his face that made me shiver inside.
‘Marry me.’
‘No.’ My eyes were just as fierce as his, and just as full of fiery need. ‘I’m free, and that’s how I’m going to remain! But…’ Stretching up, I leaned into him, running my lips along his collarbone. ‘…that doesn’t mean we can’t finish what we started.’
His hands tightened around my wrists. ‘Don’t! Don’t, I…’
‘Just say yes,’ I whispered. ‘There’s no need for a ceremony. Just you and me, and a few hours that will remain our little secret forever.’
Through my clothes and his, I could feel his heart pounding against me. He wanted this. Wanted me. Badly. I nearly had him. Rising up further, I skimmed my lips over his jaw, towards his mouth, and-
-and suddenly he was gone. I stumbled forward, barely able to keep standing. Blinking through a haze of need, I just saw the ends of his tailcoat disappearing through a door at the other end of the room. Then it slammed shut, leaving me alone.
He had run.
Mr Rikkard I-Can-Vanquish-Anything-Or-Anyone Ambrose had run from me, little nineteen-year-old feminist secretary me. Dear Lord. I wasn’t quite sure whether I should feel angry at him or proud of myself. Panting, I leaned back against the door - just in time to have the doorknob jabbed into my generous derriere.
‘Hello?’ came Lady Samantha’s worried voice from the other side. ‘Hello, is someone in there? Miss Linton? Adaira? The door won’t open! Is it jammed?’
The Announcement
‘Hello?’ The doorknob rattled against my behind. ‘Hello? Is anyone in there?’
I jumped away from the door as if a bear had bitten me in the butt. And, I supposed, in a way it had. As the door opened and Lady Samantha’s motherly, radiant face appeared in the doorway, all I could think was:
OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGodIjustofferedtohaveanintimateaffairwiththissweetlady’sson!I’msogoingtohell!
And I didn’t even believe in hell.
But when Lady Samantha smiled at me and a moment later hugged me close, that sort of made me believe a tiny little bit in heaven.
‘Oh, my dear, I’m so glad you’re back! I hope the Sultana is all right?’
It was good she was still hugging me. That way, she didn’t see my jaw drop open.
‘The…what?’
‘The Sultana, dear! Adaira told me how you had to leave suddenly, because the Sultana of Bakavāsa had arrived in the country for a visit, and you had to be there to greet her, since she was an old friend of your mother’s.’
‘Oh, she did, did she?’
‘I never knew that you moved in such exalted circles, dear.’
‘Neither did I.’
‘Pardon, what did you say?’
‘I said, I’m a little bit shy.’
‘Oh, that’s so adorable.’ She gave me a last hug before letting me go. ‘Look at you! You look all flushed and pretty. Was the journey bracing?’
‘Um…oh yes.’
And so was having my mouth ravished by your son.
‘The Sultana is well, I trust?’
I managed to get a smile on my face. ‘The Sultana of Bakavāsa is as well as she’s ever been.’
‘Oh, I’m so glad to hear that, my dear. I had to admit, I was slightly worried.’
‘Worried?’
‘Yes, I…’ Lady Samantha glanced aside, looking almost too guilty for such a sweet soul. ‘I understood that you had to go greet your mother’s old friend, of course, and I would never have asked you to do differently, but…I really hoped that you wouldn’t be long. I’m so glad you managed to return in time for the Christmas ball.’
‘You are?’
‘Yes.’
She peeked up at me.
‘Has my son come to see you since your return?’
Suddenly, the atmosphere in the room was prickling. I wet my dry lips. Bloody hell, bloody hell, bloody hell, what to say?
‘He came to see me.’
‘I thought perhaps he might. Did he say anything?’
You mean apart from commanding me to elope with him?
‘Not much.’
That much at least was true. His mouth had been otherwise engaged most of the time.
‘Miss Linton…’ Again, Lady Samantha glanced up at me. ‘I hope I’m not being too presumptuous when I say that it would make an old woman very happy to see you dance with my son at the Christmas ball. I couldn’t wish for a better gift.’
My breath caught. Was she hinting…
No.
It couldn’t be.
But still…it sounded very much as if she was giving the two of us her blessing.
Oh Lord! How was I ever supposed to tell this sweet lady that her son had just proposed to me, and I had turned him down? I couldn’t! It was that simple. I could tell Mr Rikkard Ambrose no without a second thought, but not his mother.
‘I’ll save a space on my dance card for him,’ I promised. Among the three dozen other empty places that will probably be there.
Abruptly, Her Ladyship looked up, and in her eyes, I saw her heart bared. A mother’s
heart.
‘And in your heart, Miss Linton? Will you save a space for him there, too?’
The blood drained from my face - then rushed back in a flush of heat. What was wrong with me? I never blushed! Never!
‘W-what do you mean?’
You stuttered! You just stuttered!
She gazed up me with a sweetness that was more deadly than the coldest stare Mr Ambrose had ever given me. ‘I think you know what I mean, Miss Linton.’
Oh crap.
I swallowed.
‘Your son is…very dear to me,’ I managed somehow. Don’t ask me how. ‘I care for him a great deal.’
‘Has he asked you?’
By the tone in her voice I knew she wasn’t talking about reserving a dance at the ball.
‘No,’ I told her, my ears turning red. He just ordered me.
She gazed at me for a moment longer - then seemed to reach some private conclusion, nodded to herself and took my hand, squeezing it gently. ‘I’m really glad you’re back, dear. I have a feeling things are going to work out very well.’
And, with that cryptic statement, she turned around and left the room.
*~*~**~*~*
‘Attention, please, my Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen.’ Lady Samantha picked up a fork and delicately struck it against a wineglass, evoking a pure, serene sound. ‘I have an announcement to make.’
The whole table fell silent.
We were sitting at breakfast - Adaira, her mother, me and all the other guests. The only ones missing were iceberg senior and iceberg junior. I was just thanking God, the fates and any other deities within listening distance for the latter, when the French windows were thrust open and, among a swirl of snow and cold air, Rikkard Ambrose marched into the breakfast parlour. Shutting the French windows behind him, he strode to the table and took the empty seat right opposite me.
Oh crap.
‘Um…well, as I was saying, my announcement…’ Lady Samantha attempted a warm smile. It was no easy feat in the same room as Rikkard Ambrose, whose mere presence seemed to suck up all the warmth in a fifty-yard radius. ‘We’re having the Christmas ball tomorrow evening, on Christmas Eve. Isn’t that wonderful?’