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‘Look at me!’
The strength of my voice took even me by surprise. Had I ever dared give Mr Rikkard Ambrose an order before? But if I was surprised at my own words, it was nothing compared to the surprise of seeing them obeyed.
Slowly, torturously slowly, his eyes came down from the roof of leaves above and settled on me. And all of a sudden it didn’t matter that, technically, there was a layer of protection between him and me. It didn’t matter that it was only his eyes caressing me, not his hands. I could feel him. Could feel his gaze slide over my tangled, mud-capped hair, down my throat, over my chest and farther down, until…
Under the mud, I felt my skin heat.
My legs moved, as if of their own account, carrying me forward.
‘Do you like what you see, Sir?’
‘No!’
But his eyes kept devouring me, as if I were the key to the vaults of the Bank of England.
I smiled, continuing to advance. My gait had somehow become lithe and predatory, like that of a jungle cat. ‘Liar!’
He took another step backwards. Soon, he’d almost be waist-deep in the water. ‘I’m not lying, Miss- I mean, Mr Linton! I find you repugnant!’
I took another step forward, still smiling.
‘Do you?’
‘Yes, indeed I do! I also find you grisly, grotesque, hideous, horrid, unsightly, appalling, and, and…’
Never before in my life had I seen Mr Rikkard Ambrose struggle for words. Usually, he didn’t need them - especially to insult. Just his icy glare was enough. But the look in his eyes right now was anything but insulting. Any woman who felt this gaze on her could only feel heat and need inside.
‘Beastly?’ I suggested. ‘Foul?’
‘Yes! Exactly!’
I took another step forward. He was almost in reach now. But instead of reaching out for him, I reached out for myself. I ran a hand down my throat and towards an area of my upper body that seemed to hold particular interest for him. His left little finger twitched.
‘And tell me, Sir…why is it that you find me so repugnant? Which part of me-,’ using my other hand, I traced the curve of my hips, ‘-repels you so?’
He cleared his throat.
‘You…you are dirty!’
From underneath, I smirked up at him. ‘I bet you like it dirty.’
‘Mr Linton!’
My hand slid away from my chest, pointing further down. ‘Miss,’ I corrected him. ‘The proof’s right there.’
‘Mr Linton!’
‘Miss. You really are a stubborn man.’
Another step forward brought me within reaching distance. I lifted my hand from where it had been resting and raised it towards Mr Ambrose. He twitched back as if it were an adder. ‘Stop! You, um…you can’t touch this suit! It’s still in mint condition. I won’t have it ruined.’
‘So take it off,’ I purred.
‘I, um…I…’
Bloody hell! Being the seductive siren was fun. Why didn’t more women do this? Seeing Mr Ambrose squirm was just about the most delicious sight of my life. Now, if he would only take off his shirt…
