Silence Breaking

47. Wrapping Things Up

Silence.

Complete, utter, icy silence.

For quite a long time.

Then...

'Miss Linton?'

'Yes?'

'Is that...is that a–'

'Yes.'

His hand snapped shut around the little thing and crushed it.

'Hey!' I protested. 'It took me quite a while to make that!'

On the other hand, I had over thirty more, just in case. Hey, I'm an optimist, all right?

Reaching into the drawer again, I pulled out a replacement and dangled it in front of his face. I could tell he didn't particularly like the view.

'Miss Linton. Do you mean to tell me that before we engage in amorous congress, you wish me to...to...'

'...wrap up your belly-tickler? Yes, that was the idea.'

'Miss Linton!'

'What?' I raised an eyebrow, even though in the dark he probably didn't see it. 'You didn't think that I'd let you get me pregnant and then end up marrying you after all, although I don't really want to, did you?'

Silence.

Silence which, in this case, spoke volumes.

'You did! You bloody son of a bachelor! You were banking on me getting pregnant!'

'Banking has always been one of my favourite occupations.'

I thumped his chest. 'Be serious!'

'I always am, Miss Linton.'

And he was. He absolutely was. Getting me pregnant to get me to marry him – that scheme had Rikkard Ambrose written all over it.

'That's what you were trying to do?' I whispered, something tugging at my heart. 'You were really trying to get me pregnant?'

In the midnight moonlight, he met my eyes without blinking. His gaze was perfectly steady, cool and unashamed.

'Of course. It was a perfect solution for my problem.'

'Your problem?'

'You.'

'Me?'

Reaching out, he cupped my face with a tenderness that made my heart ache. 'You're everything I want. Everything I need. I have to have you. No matter what I have to do, you will be mine.'

A part of me wanted to slap the devious, chauvinistic part of a bachelor – but the problem was, the bigger part of me felt exactly the same about him. I wouldn't be able to survive without him. Besides – if he weren't a devious, chauvinistic son of a bachelor, he wouldn't be Mr Rikkard Ambrose.

Time to take the reins, Lilly!

Through the shadows, I smiled at him. 'So...you want to marry me?'

'I think that by now I have made that abundantly clear, Miss Linton.'

'And there's no other way you'd be with me tonight? No other way I could convince you?'

His face was as solid as bedrock. 'No.'

'Are you sure?'

'Absolutely.'

Reaching out, I cupped him, too – only not his face. I went a little bit lower.

'Ah!'

'Are you really, really sure?'