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‘Your table, Sir, Madam.’ With a flourish, the waiter indicated a table right beside the railing, where the view was even more spectacular. Stepping up to the stone balustrade, I could see the lights of the ancient city of Alexandria glowing beneath me. History was thick in the air, an atmosphere that vibrated around us.
‘Do you wish a menu?’ the waiter enquired.
Mr Ambrose nodded. ‘Two please. One each, for me and the lady.’
‘Certainly, Sir. I won’t be a moment.’
He disappeared, and Mr Ambrose stepped up to the table, drawing back a chair. I was still looking at the city, trying to make out the pattern of streets in the glowing lights. When I looked back at the table, Mr Ambrose was still standing there like a statue, holding the chair.
I stood there, watching him.
He stood there, the back of the chair clutched in his hands, his eyes growing darker. I frowned.
What’s the matter with him?
It was only then that I realized.
He’s pulled the chair out for me!
Slowly but surely, a grin spread over my face. This ‘being married’ business might actually be some fun - for a while.
‘The city looks beautiful, doesn’t it?’ I sighed, demonstratively leaning on the balustrade.
‘I wouldn’t know,’ the cool voice of Mr Ambrose drifted to my ears. ‘I cannot see it from where I am standing.’
‘Really? What a pity.’ I sighed again. ‘Why don’t you come over and see?’
His hands twitched around the wood of the chair. ‘I can’t. Wouldn’t you like to sit down, my dear?’
‘No, thank you, Dick. I’m fine where I am for now.’
‘Indeed?’
‘Yes, indeed. The sea is so beautiful in the sunset.’
I could almost feel his cold stare drilling holes in my neck. Acting as if it didn’t bother me in the least, I took out my fan and began to wave it lazily, stirring up a breeze in the hot evening air. When I sneaked a peek at him out of the corner of my eye, he was still standing in exactly the same place, rigid as a column of marble, holding out the chair for me - the vision of a perfect gentleman.
I waved my fan again, just for the fun of it, and thought I heard a low growl from behind me, out of Mr Ambrose’s direction. But maybe I was mistaken.
‘Sir? Madam? Your menus.’
The waiter had returned, holding two leather-bound menus with golden cursive script on the covers. They already looked good enough to eat. Water ran in my mouth at the thought of what the actual food would taste like.
‘What do you say, Dick?’ Graciously wandering over, I gave Mr Ambrose one of my most charming smiles. ‘Should we sit down to eat?’
His dark eyes met mine, and there was the promise of cold-blooded murder in them. ‘I think that would be wise, love.’
‘Oh, all right. If you insist…’ Giving my fan another casual wave, I slowly sank onto the chair he was holding out for me, and he shoved it forward with enough force to squash my stomach against the table. How rude! I had to work hard to suppress a smirk.
‘There! I hope you sit comfortably, my dear?’
‘Why of course.’ Pushing back, I rubbed my aching stomach muscles. ‘Thank you! You are always so concerned about me, Dick, my dear. It’s really touching.’
Folding himself onto the chair opposite me, Mr Ambrose met my gaze with cool, unfathomable eyes. ‘Nothing more than what you deserve, my love.’
Taking a seat, Mr Ambrose held his hand out. The waiter reached out to both of us, wanting to hand one menu to Mr Ambrose and one to me, but Mr Ambrose snatched both away from him.
‘We’ll need a little time to decide,’ he informed the man briskly. ‘Come back in a quarter of an hour.’
