New Storm Rising

41. Free

Moaning, I shifted, stretching out my hand to feel the smooth cotton of my pillow with my fingers. Hm...so I was in bed? Well, that fit. I'd had such a weird dream. Mr Rikkard Ambrose had actually promised to take me on a sightseeing tour, right after I'd found out that I was pregnant. Ha! Me, pregnant? That was so incredibly funny I nearly couldn't contain my—

Right then and there, my eyes fell on a bottle on the night stand with a label proclaiming Fizzlewizz Fantastic Fertility Water.

Oh fudge.

Instinctively, my hand shot down to my stomach. Now that I knew, it was quite obvious. There, right there, was a small bulge. And it was not because I was getting fat, thank you very much! Hesitantly, almost tremulously, I stroked my belly once, twice, a third time.

"Hello there, little one," I whispered. "How are you?"

"I am perfectly fine, Mrs Ambrose. Your concern is appreciated."

Jerking upright in bed, I whirled around to glare at the fiend responsible for all of this. Mr Rikkard Ambrose was sitting in an armchair at the window, going through some papers.

"I was not talking to you!"

"Indeed?" He didn't even glance up from his documents.

A long, long moment of silence passed. Lowering my eyes, I gazed down at where my hand still rested on my belly.

"Is...is it really true?"

A pause.

"Yes."

I felt my breath hitch.

"I will really take you on a sightseeing tour."

"You...!" Grabbing the closest pillow, I hurled it straight at Mr Rikkard Ambrose's head—whereupon he promptly reached up and caught it without looking. "I wasn't talking about that, you bloody son of a bachelor!"

"Indeed?"

I reached for another cushion to throw—only to find that there weren't any more. Darn! I would have loved so much to indulge in some senseless, satisfying violence. Now that I couldn't, that left me alone with nothing but my own thoughts.

I swallowed.

"Mr Ambrose?"

"Yes, Mrs Ambrose?"

"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.

Click.

Abruptly, I opened my eyes—only to see the room distinctly devoid of husbands. Only a hint of his warmth was still left on my cheek.