"This does not mean you will be accompanying me into danger, understood? Wherever we are going, I will find a nice hotel room with three locks on the door and you. Will. Stay. There."

I nodded most obediently and demurely, like a proper wife should. "Of course, Dicky Darling. Just as you say, Dicky Darling."

My words probably would have come across as more sincere if I hadn't been relaxing on a deck chair, sipping a drink through a straw. This was the life!

I glanced over to where Mr Rikkard Ambrose was lying on another deck chair which I'd practically had to force him onto.

"You know...relaxing works better if you don't clench your butt and keep your back straight as a rod."

He cocked his head. "Who, pray, said I wished to relax?"

Good point.

"So, where are we heading first?"

He sent me an icy glare. Ah, so apparently he wasn't in the mood to talk about this.

"Or, if you don't want to talk about that, we could chat instead about why your father, whom you've had nothing to do with for over a decade, is suddenly after you," I happily suggested. "And why he's sending you letters that contain words such as 'heir', 'duty' and 'marriage'. Sounds like a very interesting subject."

Apparently, that was the right thing to say to make him talkative.

"Caribbean," he stated, his voice cool. "We're heading to the Caribbean."

"Oh, I approve!" I nodded firmly. "Summer, sun and sandy beaches."

He cast a glance at me. Surely it was only my imagination it seemed rather displeased?

"This. Is. Not. A. Holiday."

"Oh, I know that!" I told him, since it was clearly obvious. "If it were a holiday, you wouldn't be here."

That got me another of those icy looks of his. I didn't really let it bother me, though. Judging by the way his eyes were raking my body, he couldn't be too angry with me.

But then his gaze suddenly changed and his eyes met mine, something ominous flickering deep within them.

"Pirates."

That one word of his made me shut up immediately. Some people might romanticize pirates, but I was married to the man who was the world's biggest target for pirate raids, and who very much did not appreciate the fact. Some of the reports I had read were rather...disturbing.

Suddenly, his overprotective behaviour earlier made much more sense. If he intended to go pirate hunting, taking his pregnant wife along for the ride was probably pretty much the last thing he wanted to do.

Not that that would discourage me.

"During the last few months," he explained, "my vessels travelling on trade routes through the Caribbean have fallen victim to an increasing number of pirate attacks. Slowly but surely, I am being driven out of the area, and my competition is taking over."

Glancing over the railing, I inspected the two heavily armed ships that had been accompanying our yacht ever since we left the harbour.

"So...that's why they are here?"

"Indeed."

"Still..." My brow furrowed in doubt. I wasn't an expert on pirates, but I was fairly certain that the more dangerous specimens could not be taken down with two ships alone. Fend off one or two raiding ships? Sure. Take on an entire fleet? No way! "Going to hunt pirates? Just the two of us? I know Karim is on the other ship, but you didn't even bring any men except the sailors. Not that I don't appreciate your confidence in my spiffing gunslinging skills, but this seems a bit risky."

"Not exactly. You see, while my trade ships suffer from pirate attacks, the vessels of my competitors seem to suffer from no such misfortune."

"Ah." I nodded in understanding. Suddenly, it made a lot more sense that Mr Rikkard Ambrose, a man with a fleet of hundreds of ships at his command, would send me out to charter ships from someone else.

"Ah indeed, Mrs Ambrose." His eyes darkened, sending a chill down my back. "Add to that the fact that, ever since the United States Navy has grown due to the Mexican–American War, they are supposed to have nearly eradicated piracy in the area..."

I nodded again. "I smell something fishy, as the man with a fish up his nose said to the fishmonger."

"Superfluously flowery phrasing aside, you are correct, Mrs Ambrose."

"So..." I glanced at the heavily armed ships again. "Those are not there for the pirate hunt, but just to protect us until we reach our goal, I gather. What then?"

"We'll take a little trip to one of the main islands. Stay quiet. Keep our ears to the ground. After all..." Something dark and icy glittered in my dear husband's eyes. "All men need to eat. Even pirates. Once we find out where those scum get their supplies from, we can follow them to their hideout and then..."

His hand clenched into a fist.

Did I ever mention how sexy my husband is while plotting the downfall of his enemies?

Luckily, he has lots of those.

Just then, something occurred to me. My eyes narrowed.

"And that plan just so happens to allow you to safely stash me away in a high-security hotel while you and some hired muscle go gallivanting around looking for pirates. How very coincidental, isn't it?"

He didn't look at me, instead choosing to focus on the business documents in his hands. "I have no idea what you could possibly mean, Mrs Ambrose."

"I'm sure you don't."

I scrutinized the expression on his face closely. Not an easy thing to do, but after years of experience, I had learned to read things that weren't there.

"You obviously intend to lock me up in some safe place. Putting aside for the moment whether or not I'll let you—you have everything planned out. You intend to deposit me in a secure location, then gather intel, gather your forces and crush the pirates in one blow. There's no reason to think that plan won't work. So..." I narrowed my eyes at him. "Why is it you still look as if you're expecting some disaster to strike us any moment?"

"I am not quite certain. Everything should be fine. Everything should go perfectly. And yet..." Eyes narrowing infinitesimally, he scanned the deck of the ship. "I can't help feeling like there is something I have missed."

"Mr Rikkard Ambrose, scared by a mere feeling?" I put a hand on my heart. "Oh goodness gracious! What is the world coming to?"

Leaning forward, my dear husband speared me with an icy glare. "I couldn't say. But I have a good idea what you will be coming to once we reach our destination. And a bedroom."

"Oh dear." Instead of retreating, I leaned forward until we almost met in the middle. "Is that a threat, Mr Ambrose, Sir?"

"Not a threat, Mrs Ambrose. A promise."

He held my gaze for a moment longer—then forced himself to turn away and resumed scanning the ship. I frowned.

"Still worried?"

He glanced at my belly.

"Always, Mrs Ambrose. Always."

"Don't fret." Reaching out, I patted his shoulder. "I'm sure everything will be all right."

That was when, in the distance, a bolt of lightning flashed, and thunder rumbled, announcing the approaching storm.

I glanced at Mr Ambrose, who was glowering at me with fierce intensity.

"Um...oops?"

***

"Oh boy. That's quite the view." Biting my lip in worry, I gazed out of the porthole at the raging waves outside the yacht—the yacht which, right now, was wildly swaying from side to side. And the storm wasn't even truly here yet. That much was clear from the towering clouds of darkness in the distance.

Was this what Mr Rikkard Ambrose had been worried about?

If so, there might be more to male intuition than I'd thought.

"Don't worry." A familiar pair of arms slid around from behind me, encircling me protectively. "Do you think my men would have let you rent this ship if it were not perfectly safe? I may not always be watching you. But I will always make sure you are safe."

I could have pushed him away. I could have told him that I didn't need his protection. Except right now, I didn't really feel like it. Instead, I placed a hand on top of his, where it rested over my bulging belly, and leaned back against him.

"I know."

Like that, we stood there for some time, basking in each other's warmth, watching the storm roll by outside. After a while, the swaying of the ship started to feel almost soothing.

That feeling ended abruptly when I heard a slamming sound from above, and Mr Ambrose abruptly went stiff behind me. And not in the fun way.

"What was that?" I demanded.

"I don't know." Releasing his hold on me, Mr Ambrose stepped back. "I told all the sailors to lower the sails and hunker down below decks. Nobody should be up there."

I frowned. "What does that mean?"

"That means that I am going to see what's going on."

"What? No! Are you crazy?"

"No more than usual, Mrs Ambrose. Psychiatrists are expensive." And before I could get another word out, he was out of the door.

"That blasted son of...!"

I started to go after him—but then hesitated, glancing down at my belly. With the storm only halfway here, it wasn't really dangerous for him up there. Not for me, either, technically. But if I were to slip and fall...

Muttering a curse, I punched a wall. That son of a bachelor's anti-feminist propaganda was finally getting to me! I was going to give him an earful when he got back!

But I had hardly finished that thought when footsteps came thundering along the corridor outside. A moment later, the door burst open and Mr Rikkard Ambrose strode into the cabin. The look on his face froze me in place. His expression was just as rigid and unmoving as ever, but his eyes...

His eyes were burning with cold fire.

"What—"

"We have a saboteur," he cut me off abruptly. "Someone cut the ropes securing the lifeboats and threw them overboard!"

I felt a chill going down my spine.

"But...we're in the middle of a bloody storm! That's insane!"

"Exactly." Grabbing a belt stocked with ammunition, Mr Ambrose slung it around his waist, then grabbed his cane and revolver. "So we'd better put an end to it. Now." Striding out into the corridor, he slammed his cane against the wall, hard. "Men! To me!"

An instant later, sailors started rushing towards him from all directions. I had to admit, he had his employees well-trained.

Not that this included me, of course.

"What is it, Sir?" The captain came striding down the corridor, pistol at the ready.

"Saboteur," was Mr Rikkard Ambrose's curt answer. "Search."

The grim sailor nodded. "Splitting up?"

"Yes. You take those five starboard. You," he pointed at the first mate, "take another five to the port side. I will check further below deck."

"Aye aye, Sir!"

"Aye aye, Sir!"

The two men and their assigned groups marched off immediately and, with a curt gesture at the remaining sailors, my husband did the same. I followed right on his heels.

"Did you not hear me just now, Mrs Ambrose?" he demanded without turning around or stopping. "There is a saboteur on board."

"Yes?"

"Saboteurs are dangerous!"

"I know. That's why I'm coming along."

"Perhaps you don't understand, Mrs Ambrose! It is not only your own safety I'm concerned with! In your condition—"

"Oh, but I do understand. I understand perfectly." Placing a hand on his arm, I squeezed it gently. "The safest place on this ship is right beside you."

I felt him stiffen. "Mrs Ambrose...Lillian, I—"

"Shh!" I abruptly cut him off. My grip on his arm tightened.

"What—"

"Listen! Can't you hear it?"

He fell silent. I had to admit, it wasn't easy to hear anything above the howling and roaring of the storm. But...

Thud! Thud! Thud!

There! Distant, muted, but it was definitely there!

"It's coming from ahead and to the left," I murmured, close to his ear.

He nodded. With a silent gesture at his men, Mr Ambrose proceeded down the corridor. The closer we got, the clearer the sound became. Along with the sound, it also became clear what exactly it was.

"What the...!" My eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets. "Is that a—?"

"Yes, Mrs Ambrose." Eyes narrowing infinitesimally, Mr Ambrose sped up his pace. "It is."

By now, he was almost running. And still, he somehow managed to keep his steps silent and unnoticeable. Only when he reached the very end of the corridor did he slow down, edging slowly towards the very last door.

The door from behind which repeated thuds continued to echo.

Without a moment of hesitation, Mr Ambrose pulled his leg back and...

Crash!

The door slammed open, revealing a small and dingy hold, with some bundles and crates stacked up against one wall. Yet, right then, I didn't particularly care about the cargo. What was of significantly larger importance was the spot where the outer hull of the yacht had nearly been reduced to splinters, and where a man was standing with a manic glint in his eyes and an axe in his hands.

"Stop!" In a blink, Mr Ambrose's revolver was up, pointing straight at the man with wild hair and even wilder eyes, who stood there, the axe high above his head. "Don't. Move."

The man froze—for just a moment. Then, panting heavily, he raised the axe even higher. "I...I have to."

"Are you insane? If you do this, you will die alongside us!"

"I..." Swallowing, the saboteur stared straight into the barrel of my husband's gun. Then his gaze slowly slid over towards me, resting on my swollen belly with a torn, almost longing gaze.

"They have my family."

His words had barely registered with me before he moved.

"No!" Mr Ambrose's revolver flashed. But the axe was already moving.

Crack!

The sound of splintering wood was ear-splitting, somehow even drowning out the gunshot. An instant later, the world exploded into a chaotic kaleidoscope of green, brown, and deep, dark, blue. So much blue. I heard the sound of rushing water, and then...

Darkness.

------------------------------------

My dear Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen,

And the plot thickens! What do you think, are my cliffhanger skills still up to par?

Yours Truly

Sir Rob