New Storm Rising

39. Mrs Ambrose's Method of Information Gathering

It was official: I had completely underestimated Mr Rikkard Ambrose's ability to keep his mouth shut. I spent the rest of the day trying to pry information about his past adventures out of him, and as a result got absolutely nothing whatsoever. Which made me realize an interesting and, in hindsight, glaringly obvious fact: I knew nothing whatsoever about the man I had married.

Zilch.

Nada.

What did he get up to all those years after he ran away from home? Did he have any more friends, fiends and minions I didn't know of? And, most importantly of all, how the heck did he get from homeless runaway to bloody richest business mogul of the entire world?

I decided it was about time I had a lengthy talk with my darling husband. And what was the best kind of talk to have with your husband?

You guessed it. Pillow talk.

"So..."

It was late at night. We had withdrawn to our hotel room, and the lights were turned down to a low, romantic glow, so Mr Ambrose wouldn't have to pay for the extra gas. Sometimes, it was really amazing to have a stingy husband. Slowly, I approached him from behind, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"I've noticed you never really told me about your past adventures, dear."

"Indeed?"

"Oh yes indeed, Sir."

"Hm...well, if that's the case..."

"Yes?"

"...why do you think I would suddenly give in now?"

Dammit! Blasted son of a bachelor!

"Come on! Just a little hint?"

He didn't move an inch. "For what reason would I possibly spill secrets to you that are better left unspoken?"

"Well..." I smiled, sliding my arms around him from behind. "Why don't you turn around and let me show you?"

I felt his shoulders tense. "And what could you possibly show me that could convince me to—"

That was when he turned around.

Just in time to see me slip my blouse from my shoulders.

"Ng!" Mr Ambrose said.

"You know..." Smiling, I stepped forward, trailing a single finger down his chest until it caught on the first button of his shirt. So inconvenient. That would have to go. "I really love how you can express yourself so well without words."

A low rumble issued from Mr Rikkard Ambrose's chest. His eyes were fixed on me with a fierce intensity, as if he wanted nothing more than to devour me alive. No...there was no "as if" about it. The instant his eyes landed on me, he was a predator on the prowl.

A predator that could be lured into my honey trap.

Turning around, I moved towards the bed, taking care to sway my hips with every step. "Now...why don't you tell me some of your past adventures? I do so love hearing about the deeds of a big, strong, man. And if you impress me, who knows..."

"Mrs Ambrose!" The growl that came from behind me sent a delicious shiver down my back. "I am your husband!"

"Indeed you are," I agreed, slipping under the covers and throwing him a seductive glance. "Which means you have to do anything I say, and nobody can do anything about it."

The towering figure wreathed in shadows took a step towards the bed, icy eyes sparkling in the darkness. "I am fairly certain that, by law, it is the husband who is in charge, not the wife."