In the Eye of the Storm (Storm and Silence 2)

Maybe, suggested a nasty little voice in my head, because he had phrased it just in that way - a way that almost sounded like a real proposal.

No! That couldn’t be the reason! Definitely not! Because that would mean I really wanted to… that I would have said yes if he asked-

No, no, no! Absolutely not!

‘Adequate.’ With a cool nod, Mr Ambrose stepped back again, the pseudo-romantic tension in the air bursting like a bubble, leaving me reeling. ‘Then we can get to the details of our disguise.’

‘D-details?’

‘Yes.’

Blast him! How did he manage to keep his voice so businesslike when mine felt like breaking any moment?

I cleared my throat. ‘Details like what, Sir?’

‘Like names and forms of address, of course. It is extremely unlikely, for instance, that a married couple would have enough sense to address one another by their surnames. And I doubt very much the female could be so well mannered as to address her husband as “Sir”.’ Reaching up, he stroked his chin for a moment - a gesture of contemplation I had never seen before. Was there a slight crease between his eyebrows? But… he never moved his facial muscles! What titanic struggle had to be taking place inside him?

I waited, my anticipation rising. Finally, he growled and jerked his head in annoyance. He looked as if he had just received news that he had to part with a thousand pounds on the spot.

‘There seems to be no way around it. For the duration of our stay in Egypt, I give you temporary leave to address me by my first name, Miss Linton.’

I blinked at him. This was what had been causing his emotional turmoil? ‘How… how very gracious of you.’

‘Yes, I know. Married people really ought to have better manners. First names. Bah!’

‘Yes - terrible! You might get the idea that they actually liked each other.’ No reaction. Not for the first time I noticed that Mr Rikkard Ambrose was impervious to sarcasm.

‘Probably using my first name won’t even be enough,’ he added sourly. ‘Newlyweds are notoriously uncourteous and informal. You had better use an abbreviated form to give an appropriate impression of conjugal familiarity.’ He considered the matter for a moment. ‘“Rick” would be an acceptable choice.’

I thought about it for a moment, rolling the name around my tongue. Then, suddenly, an idea came to me, and a grin spread over my face. ‘I’m sure there are other abbreviations for your lovely name. How about “Dick”?’

He gave me a glare that sent shivers down my back. But my smile only widened. Inside, I was rolling on the floor with laughter, gasping for air. Ha! Payback time!

‘It’s “Rick”, Miss Linton! No discussion!’

‘Just as you say,… Dick.’

His glare cooled another dozen degrees. ‘I’m your employer, Miss Linton! You are obligated to follow my orders!’

In return for his ferocious glare, I gave him back a cheerful smile. ‘Apparently, you’re not my employer. You’re my husband now, Dick. Haven’t you heard?’ My eyes were dancing. Good God, why had I been worried about this just a moment ago? This was brilliant! ‘Wives lovingly tease their husbands all the time. It’s their job. They also complain, argue and never shut up when they’re supposed to. It’s all part of the wonderful tapestry of married life.’

He took a deep breath. For a moment, I saw his little finger twitching - but then, in a movement so imperceptible you’d need a microscope to be sure it was there, one corner of his mouth lifted.

Dear God… What… That couldn’t be a sm—

He moved before I could finish the thought. Suddenly, he was right in front of me, his ice-heart energy crackling in the air around me. His dark eyes were burning. ‘Glad to see you’re embracing your role so thoroughly, Wife.’

‘Th-thank you.’

Damn the stutter! That didn’t come out nearly as sarcastically as it was supposed to! I stared up into his eyes, and he stared back, implacable, cold and very, very determined.

‘Do you know,’ he murmured, slowly leaning towards me, ‘what else is part of married life?’ I started to back away, but he moved with me, coming ever closer.

‘No. What are you talking about?’

He ignored my question, moving closer still. Blast, he was just a few inches away now - close enough for me to feel the heat of his skin and the freezing, calculating ice of his gaze, mingling in one irresistible maelstrom. Too close! Far too close!

‘Do you know,’ he breathed ‘what a married couple does all the time? Especially newlyweds, who have just found each other and are still discovering all the enticing possibilities?’