I'M BACK, KINDA. Sorry for such a long, super long, delay. I know this is a really, really, really late update. *Laughs sheepishly*. I made this chapter longer to make up for that (though it's a pretty crap compensation).
Warning: This chapter might have some flaws in it as I didn't really have time to edit.
Enjoy!
Goal: 50 votes and 40 comments
(Gotta decrease my expectations as it's been such a long while).
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We were back in the Ambrose residence in no time, partly because Mr Ambrose had driven us like slaves, and partly because the prospect of good food and comfort in the Ambrose residence was sufficient motivation. Not that I was sure whether we would be allowed to stay, but a girl needs something to look forward to, doesn't she?
Throughout the journey, I was the one helping Samantha for neither of the pea-brained, good for nothing men could do so. Everytime she slowed down, Mr Ambrose would command her to catch up. Even a worm could tell that that wouldn't work.
When Samantha wasn't paying attention, I would pester Mr Ambrose about her, but I was always met by a wall of silence. I admit it, I was curious. I had never met someone like her.
"Finally!" I exclaimed as we neared the front door of the Ambrose estate. I quickened my pace. An image of smoked ham popped up in my head, fuelling me to move even faster.
A feast would be absolutely spiffing. My stomach rumbled in agreement.
The footsteps behind me fell short. I turned around impatiently. "Get a move on!"
Mr Ambrose and Karim stood next to Samantha who was crouching on the ground. Her body trembled so violently that her teeth chattered. She rocked back and forth, gasping.
"What happened?" I demanded and hurried towards them. I glared at my stoic employer. "What did you do?"
"What makes you think I did anything, Mr Linton?" He challenged me with his gaze. "It's not me. It's this place."
"What?"
"I have deduced that the bad memories she associates with this place trigger such panicked responses."
"Then do something about it!"
He glared coldly at me.
"You're her brother, aren't you?"
"Indeed."
I slapped my palm into my face in exasperation. "Move!"
"Pardon?"
"You're pardoned. Now move if you aren't going to help her now!" I pointed at Karim. "You too!"
Karim growled and retreated. As for Mr Ambrose, he didn't take kindly to me commanding him.
"Leave, Mr Linton. Unless you have experience in dealing with such."
"You're the one not doing anything. I can help!"
He looked at me straight in the eyes. "Who said I wasn't doing anything? Do you have experience in dealing with her anxiety?"
I faltered. "Yes..." One eyebrow on Mr Ambrose's perfectly sculpted face twitched. I hurriedly added -- to inject my words with more credibility, "I've been helping her for the past few days."
The last time this happened, Mr Ambrose was the one who dealt with it. You were practically of no help. The snarky voice in my head reminded. I wanted to ignore the bugger but it wasn't entirely wrong.
"Have you?"
"Fine! I don't know! But you better do something quick! She's dying!"
"She is not. Now move!" He waved me away. "She needs space."
I reluctantly stepped back.
"More!"
Scowling, I created ample distance between us.
He crouched down next to his sister. "Sammy," He started.
My jaw dropped. His voice was firm as always, but a kindness that he reserved only for her marked his words. The ice in his voice had thawed slightly. I had heard that tone before when he spoke to Samantha, but it never ceased to appall me. Who knew a slab of granite in human form had the capacity to feel fondness?
Why doesn't he treat me that way too?
I almost slapped myself at that thought. I was his employee! It was a strictly professional relationship between us. I definitely didn't want any mushy gushy treatment from him!
Indeed?
I knocked my palm against my forehead. An Ambrose sounding voice in my head was a sure sign of madness.
Samantha continued rocking and quaking. She didn't show any sign of registering Mr Ambrose's words.
"Sammy." He repeated, firmer this time. I half expected him to grab her shoulders and tell her to stop wasting precious time, but he didn't make a move to touch her.
She let out a whimper of acknowledgement.
"What do you need?"
She couldn't seem to reply between her gasps.
"Nod your head for yes, shake for no. Do you want a hug?"
She nodded without hesitation.
My eyes almost popped out of my head. Was this seriously the same Mr Ambrose who told me that he didn't cuddle?
He inched close to her and tentatively wrapped his long arms around her, not daring to hug too tightly. She buried her head in his shoulder, her emanciated form trembling.
"It's going to be ok Sammy."
I looked over at Karim who managed to look as shocked as I was with a jungle-like beard masking half of his face. Our stone-cold employer was crouching next to his sister while hugging and whispering words of comfort to her. I had to blink a few more times to make sure I wasn't dreaming. It was as surreal as Patsy falling in love with a man.
"Do you need water?"
She nodded infinitesimally. Somehow, he managed to catch her movement.
"Let's go inside. There's water at home." A wave of bitterness washed over his tone at the word 'home'. He wasn't the only one who had an adverse reaction to that word. Samantha's response was more dramatic as she shook her head violently and beat her fist against his chest.
Why did he want to bring her 'home' if they hated it with such a passion? It was a question I had a feeling would be answered soon enough.
I made myself comfortable next to a bush that didn't have too many stray sticks jutting out. This was going to take a while.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"You should eat, my dear." Mrs John -- the woman whom I remembered was accidentally called 'Nanny' by Mr Ambrose -- coaxed Samantha. "You're so thin! You must be hungry."
She looked genuinely worried at Samanth's absolute disinterest in the food. Samantha picked at the stewed potatoes on her plate, eyes glassy and eyebrows drawn taut.
"Not eating isn't healthy. At least try some of it." Mrs John prompted.
"The potatoes are amazing." If you don't want them, I'll take them. I almost added. However I didn't because I could imagine Mr Ambrose's reaction, or the lack of it thereof.
"See? Just one bite. Please, Sammy?" She placed a light hand on Samantha's shoulder. Samantha jerked away, cringing.
"Leave her be."
The housekeeper in charge winced at Mr Ambrose's arctic tone. She lowered her head dumurely. "Yes, Master Ambrose." She retreated sadly and I almost felt bad for her.
Mr Ambrose looked at Samantha. "You should eat."
She just stared at her plate.
The meal continued in awkward silence with only the faint clanking of utensils and the occasional squawks of birds outside audible. Everytime a pesky crow cawed loudly, Samantha would jump. She was more jittery than before.
Mr Ambrose's parents weren't home, according to Mrs John. Thus without a purpose for conversation, none were made. I wasn't complaining because I was pretty sure if they were present, the tension would be a hundred times more palpable.
My knife clanked loudly on my plate as I tried to stab a potato but missed. The moment the sharp sound rang across the quiet dining room, Samantha jerked violently like she'd been stabbed.
I froze.
Oops.
The temperature in the room plummeted as Mr Ambrose's chilling disposition rocketed.
I coughed. "Sorry."
Samantha seemed to shrink into her seat as the meal progressed. As for me, I felt like I was expanding from the sheer amount of food I was shoving down my throat.
I let out a loud burp and this time, Samantha wasn't the only one who jumped.
"Manners, Mr Linton. Manners."
"You can shove your manners up your--"
"Dessert?" Mrs John interrupted.
My ears perked up. That wasn't the word I was looking for, but I didn't really mind. "What's for dessert?"
Mrs John smiled. "Have you heard of solid chocola--"
"Blimey, yes! We'll definitely have dessert."
I tell you, I had never been happier in my life to see a plate of solid chocolate served. The second the plate touched the table, my hand had shot out and grabbed a handful of solid chocolate.
Mrs John smiled at my enthusiasm. "Remember to leave some for the rest!" She reminded before returning to the kitchen.
Leave some for the rest? It was more along the lines of who was the quickest, most voracious chocolate eater.
Mr Ambrose looked disapprovingly at me as I gobbled another one. His expression didn't show it, but the displeasure radiated off him.
I stuck my tongue out at Mr Ambrose and proceeded to pop my fourth chocolate into my mouth.
Heaven. It was pure heaven.
"Mmmmm!" I moaned as a burst of flavours exploded on my tongue. Call me dramatic, but I was almost in tears from sheer pleasure. Not having good food and solid chocolate for the past few weeks -- or basically half of my life in my dear aunt's household -- made the experience all the more enjoyable.
Mr Ambrose's jaw tightened as I groaned again.
"Stop that infernal sound at once!"
"Why?" I asked with my mouth full.
"It is uncouth and annoying, Mr Linton."
"Do I look like I care?" I inserted another one in my mouth and moaned purposefully just to irk him. Karim covered his ears and looked away while Samantha stared blankly at us.
"No. However I do. As your employer, I command you to stop making strange noises."
"It's a Sunday. It's my day off, isn't it? You can't tell me what to do today."
I could almost hear him grind his teeth together. I grinned.
"I shall make as many funny noises as I want and you can do nothing to stop me!"
"This is the Ambrose residence. You're a guest here, Mr Linton, may I remind you that. As a memeber of this household, I demand that you cease any noise making."
I scowled. "Then kick me out. I dare you." To make a statement, I let out the most breathy moan I could muster.
He looked ready to snap.
Wait a second...
"Why does it bother you?" I asked cheekily. The stone cold Ambrose was reacting? That was definitely unusual.
Silence.
"Come on. Don't be shy. Do tell."
He stood up sharply, his body erect and stiff. He turned and walked away more in a hurry than usual.
"Hey wait up!"
I hurried after him, not forgetting to grab a few more solid chocolates before running off. I scurried up the stairs, almost slipping. In contrast, he marched up them without falling and breaking his damned neck.
"Wait you bloody, unreacting bastard! Are you scared?"
He stopped abruptly at the top of the stairs and I almost crashed into him. I grabbed the gold-plated railing -- or it could be made entirely out of gold considering how filthy rich they were -- to steady myself.
Crashing into him isn't all that bad. You'll at least get to feel his hard body against y-- I hastily shut the annoying little voice up.
"Scared?" He turned around and I gulped. His voice was laced with frost and lined with steel. "What gave you that idea, Mr Linton?"
"Oh nothing really, except for the fact that you're running away."
"I wasn't running away."
"Denial I see."
A few months ago, his arctic glare could have frozen me on the spot. Right then, however, I was completely immune to it.
Really? You still freeze when you look into his stormy eyes.
I wasn't scared of him!
Fear? That isn't what I mean. I'm talking about lus--
"Shut up you pesky bugger!"
"Pardon?"
"Not you!"
"Indeed?"
"Yes! I mean no! I don't know!" I glared accusingly at him. "See? You confused me!"
"Silence, Mr Linton."
Out of habit, my mouth snapped shut. Bloody hell! I opened my mouth to retort but he stopped me short. "Return to the dining hall, Mr Linton. That's an order." He turned away.
Silently, I followed him. His finger twitched.
He suddenly said sharply, "I asked you to stop following me."
"Yep."
Silence.
"Then why are you still behind me?"
"Who said I'm following you? I'm just walking, coincidentally on the exact same route as you are." I beamed.
He continued walking. I would have liked to admit that he had given up, but those two words were not in Mr Ambrose's dictionary.
He stopped before a closed oak door at the end of the corridoor.
Without turning around, he stated, "You accused me of being scared."
"Wha-- I mean yes, yes I did."
"Would you like to know the answer to that?" His voice lowered, almost to a whisper.
"Of course!" Mr Amborse answering a question posed by sweet little me? That was a rare thing indeed.
He turned and I felt a lump grow in my throat. He was close, a little too close for comfort.
But you like it, don't you?
"I was scared."
My eyes popped out of their sockets. Not literally of course, but it felt like it. As for my jaw, it clattered noisily to the floor.
"Not of you, no."
I wanted to ask: Then what of? However, I wisely kept my mouth shut.
"But of me -- what I would do."
Without offering an explanation, he pivoted on his heel, threw open the door and walked in.
I snapped out of my stupor. "Wait what? Hey! Explain!" I stomped into the room. "What kind of explanation was that?"
"Do you really want an answer?"
"What do you think?"
"You do."
I clapped. "How incredibly intelligent you are, sir! Your ability to detect nuances is astounding!"
"Respect, Mr Linton. Respect."
"Fine. Tell me the answer, now!" I added with a forced smile, "My dearest sir."
He stared at me.
I stared at him.
We were both silent as we stared some more.
Finally when the silence began to get uncomfortable, he spoke softly, "Have you ever felt an uncontrollable desire to do something?"
"Of course!" Such as when you're being a bastard and I get the uncontrollable urge to slap you.
"Well I don't."
"Oh."
"Except..." His facial muscles twitched in displeasure. I could swear that something resembling a scowl pulled at his lips. "On certain, very rare, occasions."
"What occasions?"
His gaze pierced mine. "When you're with me."
My entire body froze, including my brain.
"Now get out."
I stood stumped at the doorway.
He admitted to have uncontrollable urges around me! Yes, me! Sweet, innocent little me!
It could be the urge to fire you.
"Wha-wha-what?"
"Get out, Mr Linton. I do not like to repeat myself."
An uncontrollable urge to slap him surfaced.
"Elaborate!" I demanded.
"As your employer, I owe you nothing. Now, out."
"May I remind you again, sir, today is a Sunday. Today is a day that you're not my employer and I don't have to listen to you." I simpered sweetly.
"Are you absolutely sure that you want an answer?" His voice dropped and a shiver of anticipation ran down my spine. "It could change many things, Mr Linton. Things I rather not alter."
What was all this mystery bollocks he was sprouting? "Of course I want to know, you wanker-I mean sir!"
He glared icily at me.
"I called you sir, sir." I grinned.
In a blink of an eye, he had closed the distance between us. My breath hitched and I immediately chided myself for letting him get to me.
"You, Mr Linton, make me feel things I swore to never feel."
"Like?"
Way to spoil the moment, Lil.
He shot me a look for interruptimg him. "You make me feel..."
Mr Ambrose at a lost for words? I wished I had a painter by my side to capture his slightly constipated appearance.
Make you feel angry? Frustrated? Like you want me fired and dead?
"Different."
Mr Ambrose was back with his vague monosyllables. I wasn't the least shocked.
"Not in a way an employer would feel towards his secretary."
I nodded, prompting him.
"I don't know what that feeling means."
Mr Ambrose was opening up to me about his emotions! It was a day full of surprises indeed.
"What sensations does that feeling give you? What does it make you want to do?"
He looked straight at me, our gazes locking. "Things society would consider scandalous."
My eyes widened. Maybe he was right... maybe it was better if I never knew. After all, ignorance is a bliss. Despite knowing netter, something in me propelled me to ask softly, "Such as?"
"Grabbing you when you were making odd moaning sounds and... osculating."
"So you weren't actually annoyed or scared of those sounds? You were scared of kissing me?" I sounded calm for someone who was internally screaming and laughing in disbelief.
"Accurate."
"But you don't actually want to kiss me because it'll change our working relationship, possibly for the worse?"
"Indeed."
"And is it too much to speculate that you're too gentlemanly to force yourself on me?"
"I never claimed to be a gentleman. I simply weighed the pros and cons of caving in to temptation and decided that the cons outweigh the pros."
"Oh."
My brain was a cacophony of confusion, not at what he said but what I was feeling.
A man wants to kiss you! He desires you! But yet he doesn't want to because he considers it problematic.
And that was bad. Horrible. Catastrophic! The kissing part at least.
It isn't if you want it too.
I didn't want anything, especially not him!
Or did I?
His eyes drilled into me and I felt a part of my inner feminist crack ever so slightly. I hated man, but...
I knew I should hate him even more for being a chauvanistic bastard who cared not a farthing for anyone but himself. Yet I didn't. Not really, at least.
It had to be something the food that made me take a step closer to him, until our chests almost touched. That was extremely close considering I didn't have much if a chest after all.
"What's so bad about kissing me?" My voice dropped to almost a whisper. "If we took our professionalism, your 'gentlemanliness', and your idiotic sense of superiority and pride out of the equation, would you do it?"
I had to be going mad to be asking such asinine things!
"Yes."
"Then do it."
The way a blizzard brewed in his eyes threw my memory back to a very, very sinful time in Egypt that both of us had later swept under the carpet and refused to acknowledge. The only difference was that we were not in some strange foreign land but in Mr Ambrose's sprawling house and massive bedroom.
Everything else was the same -- the fashion in which I threw all my common sense out of the window and the manner in which his lips melded with mine.
Passion.
Pure, raw passsion.
The passion of fire and ice as they devour each other, fighting for dominance.
He hands wrapped around my waist as his mouth explored mine in a dance of desire. The feminist voice in my head shrieked shrilly but even that faded along with the rest of my normal cognitive functions.
My hands reached for his tailcoat and yanked that off. With frenzied hands, buttons popped off from both our clothes. I wanted him, badly, even though it defied my every belief.
At that point in time, all my pent up frustration were released as I clutched onto him and poured it all into our kiss.
I gasped for air. "You're the most insufferable man I've ever met!" I crashed my lips against his again to prove that point. According to my logic, acts of amour weren't the best way to express my abhorance towards him. But if I followed dear, sweet Ella's mantra of killing people with kindness, I was doing an excellent job of torturing Mr Ambrose.
"And you're the most reckless and disobedient woman I've ever met."
I pulled back and grinned. "But you like that, don't you?"
His scorching kiss was an answer enough.
My hand drifted lower and lower until it reached his belt buckle. I hadn't an inkling on what I was doing but some innate part of me knew exactly what it was commanding my hands to do.
His hands around me stiffened as my fingers teased the buckle. With a swift click, it came loose. I tiptoed and nipped his ear playfully.
"What are you doing, Mr Linton?"
"Mr?" I tsked. "After everything, you still refuse to acknowledge my gender?"
He made a strangled sound at the back of this throat as I slithered my hand up his shirt.
I leaned in, lips touching his ear, and whispered, "Maybe I should teach you a lesson."
His breathing hitched and I smiled. I was melting his resolve and getting him all flustered. I really did deserve a medal for my achievent.
"So what should I start with first?" My hands descended to his nether regions and his whole body tensed. "Maybe here --"
"Rikky! I -- oh goodness me!"
We froze.
Bloody hell!
I turned my head slowly towards the door with a sheepish grin. Mrs Ambrose stood, hand over her mouth with a scandalised expression.
Pulling away from Mr Ambrose, which proved difficult due to his tight grip, I did my best curtsy.
"A pleasure to meet you, Mrs Ambrose."
Saying everything went to horse shit that day would be an understatement.
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Goal: 50 votes and 40 comments
I'll try to go back to my usual updates (On Sundays), but I can't really promise that because my grades aren't satisfactory, I'm undergoing a lot of pressure and school is basically crazy.
I'll try my best though!
Have I told you guys how much I love you all? I'll say it again: I love you all so much. You guys are seriously the best.
Love,
Beth 💗