by Dawn Brower
She snorted. “Please don’t. I’d rather not get married today—or any day.”
Damian’s thought process mirrored hers. A wedding was not something he’d foreseen or even wanted. He still couldn’t figure out why Paolo of Captain Blythe thought it would hurt them. Well, besides the fact neither one of them wished to enter into a union of any sort. As much as it pained him to admit it though, the captain had a valid point. Pearla was indeed ruined, and while he’d not intended it, his presence was a direct result of it. He had to help repair the damage. A wedding was the only option they had left to them.
“Too bad. You’re going to get married whether you like it or not.” The captain growled. “Now prepare to become blissfully wed.”
“I decline.” Pearla replied, her tone dripping with disdain. “I think I will return to those wonderful accommodations you have prepared for us.”
Pearla turned to head below deck. Damian grabbed her wrist and held her in place. “Don’t push your luck, cara.”
A bad feeling festered in his gut. Damian didn’t want to find out what would happen if they didn’t go along with the captain—and Paolo’s—reprehensible plans. A marriage could be undone, but dead was dead. You didn’t come back from that. Pearla must be made to see reason. Their marriage would benefit her. They didn’t have to act on it, but for appearances sake it would help her. One day they could find a way to dissolve it and move on with their lives. For now though, it had to happen if they would have any future at all.
“Let me go.” She yanked at her wrist. “I’m not marrying you, and they can’t make me.”
Damian stared down at her and considered his options. They didn’t have many.
“But I can,” the captain interjected.
“How?” Pearla asked mulishly.
“It’s simple. Either you marry him or you die?”
Pearla folded her arms across her chest and glared at the captain. “Kill me then. I will not bend to any man’s will.”
Damian groaned. “Don’t give the man permission to end your life. Would it be so bad to marry me?”
He knew he wasn’t a duke, but surely being tied to him couldn’t be all bad. He could provide for her and give her a life she was accustomed to. There were plenty of woman who’d found him attractive. Pearla wasn’t immune to his charms. She’d fallen willingly into his arms not too long ago. Her moans told him a different story than her current objections. Why was she putting up such a bloody fight over a wedding?
“Yes.” She didn’t even turn to look at him. Her gaze was unwavering as she shot daggers at the captain. “I made up my mind; I will never marry. One humiliation in my lifetime was quite enough.”
“If you don’t value your life, perhaps you value his.” The captain nodded to one of his men standing next to Damian.
“What do you…” Pearla gasped as one of the men held her arms at her side. “This is outrageous. What could us marrying have to do with you or your despicable boss?”
“It matters not. He wished to see it done, and it’s my job to see it through.” The captain replied, his voice harsh. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it. In time, you will understand everything.”
One guy held Damian and the other held a knife at his throat. “Say the word, Captain, and I’ll slit his throat.”
Pearla gulped, her face whitening as she stared at Damian.
“Don’t worry about me, cara. Do what you feel is best.”
“You expect me to watch them kill you?” Her lips trembled. “What kind of person do you think I am?”
Damian didn’t want her to feel responsible for him. He’d prefer not to die, but he didn’t want to see her hurt any further. What Noah had done…Was unavoidable. He didn’t know his wife still lived. That didn’t erase the pain Pearla felt because of it.
“If you don’t want to get married, we won’t,” Damian said firmly. Even if he believed it would be for the best. He’d never forced a woman to do anything she was unwilling to do. He wasn’t about to start because a mad man held a knife at his throat.
The captain walked over to stand in front of them. “The little lady still seems to be reluctant. Perhaps something worse than death would persuade her to go along with the ceremony.”
Pearla’s gaze flew to the captain. “What do you mean?”
“I can arrange for my men to each have a turn with you. They’ve been itching to see what it’s like to have a go between your lily white thighs. One word from me, and it will happen. I’ll even force Conte Leone to watch.”
Damian didn’t think Pearla could get any whiter—he’d been wrong. With his fists clenched tight against his sides, he took a deep calming breath. The captain needed someone to break his face in more than one spot. Death would improve his disposition.
“I will decline your generous offer to watch your men debauch Miss Montgomery.” Heat fused through his face. “Go ahead with your wedding. I think you’ve made our positions quite clear.”
“You’re both willing?” Captain Blythe asked. “I want to make sure we all understand what is at stake.”
“We understand,” Pearla muttered.
“Get on with it, man. I would like to return to the pleasant cabin you have been keeping us in.” Damian’s voice reverberated with barely contained fury.
This day was not one he’d soon forget. After all, it wasn’t every day a wedding was forced upon him. He wanted it over with. When he was free, he’d enact his revenge. Now wasn’t the time to see it through.
The captain laughed. “In a hurry to enjoy your wedding night? Say no more.” He winked. “I know how much you’ve been looking forward to this. I will keep things simple.”
What nonsense was the captain spouting now? Looking forward to his wedding night? He almost acted as if they’d planned this farce of a wedding together.
“Are you ready to become a wife?” He turned to Pearla.
She remained mute. A puzzled expression filled her face. “What has Damian been looking forward to?”
“Don’t listen to him, cara.” Damian shook his head. “He’s clearly inebriated or has lost his mind.”
Whatever game they were playing had taken a different turn. Damian was as confused as Pearla was. He just wanted to be done with them all.
“Oh, you know what I’m referring to conte.” He shielded his mouth with his hand, and in a loud whisper said, “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”
Damian scrubbed his hand over his face. “Can we move on? I’m not even going to pretend I understand what you’re doing.”
“Never let it be said I won’t help a friend in need.” The captain laughed, and gazed at Pearla. “Do you take Conte Leone as your husband?”
Right. Friend. He rolled his eyes, and waited for Pearla to answer the captain. Damian took a deep breath. If she didn’t agree to the wedding, he didn’t know what he would do. He couldn’t watch the crew violate her. She had to say yes. It was the only answer that was acceptable. He understood her reservations. Honestly, he did, but in light of their choices, she had to let them go. They had no choice.
“It’s a simple yes or no Miss Montgomery, or would you like to revisit the other options?” the captain asked.
“No.”
“No, you won’t marry him?”
She shook her head. “I don’t need to go over what will happen if I don’t marry him.”
Damian let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. For a minute there he thought he’d become witness to a tragedy. Thank God she’d come to her senses.
“Then let’s begin again. Release the conte so he can stand beside his bride.”
The captain motioned to the man holding the knife to Damian’s throat. He stepped next to Pearla and brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. Her skin was cold against his warmth.
“It’ll be all right. I promise,” he whispered.
Pearla shook her head, shifting her gaze away from his. It broke his heart in two. They c
ould have had something. He saw it clearly now. If they’d been allowed to explore what was happening with them without interference, their life would have taken a different direction. Now he didn’t think she’d ever be able to trust in him—in the blossoming desire building between them.
“Isn’t he sweet, Miss Montgomery?” The captain laughed. “See, he will be a devoted husband. You won’t have to worry for anything.”
“Please, keep your opinions to yourself. I’ve agreed to this farce of a wedding. Let’s not add anymore.” Damian glared at the captain. “I’ve had enough of your drivel for a lifetime.”
“Since you’re in a hurry, we will continue.” The captain turned toward Pearla and asked. “Will you take Conte Leone as your husband?”
“I will.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
Time stood still as Damian stared down at his soon-to-be wife. Her gaze met his. It was filled with resignation and a tinge of defeat. Her mouth fell with a hint of sadness. He vowed to find a way to erase all her pain. The breeze blew her blonde hair around her shoulders. He reached over and brushed one of the curls with his hand. There were worse fates than to be tied to a beautiful woman. They’d figure out what it all meant later.
“Good. Now, Conte. Do you take Pearla as your wife?”
Damian closed his eyes and realized he actually did want to marry her. It shouldn’t have gone this way, but this was a gift in a time of total bleakness. Sadly, it would take time to get his bride around to his way of thinking.
“I will.” His voice was clear, concise, and full of conviction.
“Then, by the power granted to me as captain of this vessel, before God and these witnesses, I now declare you man and wife. I’d say you may kiss the bride, but I don’t think that’s a good idea at the moment. I don’t want to get the boys all randy by watching you claim your woman.” He nodded to the men holding the two of them in place. “Escort the Conte and Contessa to their room.”
A rumble of thunder boomed overhead. Damian’s gaze shot upward as a torrential downpour descended from the sky. He cursed. The look of the clouds above him told him they’d better prepare for a hell of a storm. The sooner they got below deck the better. He hoped Captain Blythe and his crew were prepared to battle the sea and sky.
The men pushed them down the ramp leading toward their cabin. When they reached the room Damian went in willingly, Pearla close behind him. The door shut with a thud, the key turning in the lock.
There was little light in the room. Damian could barely make out Pearla’s silhouette in the darkness. The sounds of her crying devastated him. He made his way to her side and pulled her into his arms.
“Sshhh, cara.” He soothed her with tenderness. “It’s going to be all right. I promise.”
Her fists beat against his chest as her quiet weeping turned to howling. “No, it won’t. It will never be right ever again. We. Are. Married. How are you not as angry as I am?”
At first he had been. He didn’t like being forced to do anything against his will. Now…it seemed right. He knew it would take time and gentle coaxing to convince her it was for the best. Luckily, he was a patient man. He would woo her, and one day maybe they could have a real marriage. For now, they had bigger problems. The largest being how they were going to escape from the ship. They had to be nearing land soon. With the storm raging above them, it couldn’t happen soon enough.
“I fail to see why you are so upset.” He shrugged. “Marriage isn’t a fatal wound.”
Her chin tilted up. Probably in defiance. His wife was a stubborn chit.
“No, it is much worse than that. It is a lifetime of torture.” She pushed back on his chest to get out of his embrace. “I didn’t want this.”
Damian sighed. “Cara, we were both forced into this marriage. The difference between you and me is I’m willing to let it go and move forward. You keep harping on what can’t be undone.”
“This night can never be undone, but our marriage can. I will see to it as soon as I escape this hell ship.” Pearla seethed. “If you think you are getting a wedding night, you are sadly mistaken.”
He shook his head. “I never asked for one.”
“Good because you will never touch me again.” Her teeth chattered as she shivered.
The ship swayed violently, causing her to tumble forward, landing squarely in his arms. Damian’s mouth twitched into a smile. He sent up a silent thanks to the storm for forcing her to be where he needed her. Her safety was his priority, especially now that they were wed. The rain splattering loudly against the ship told him the storm was in full force. They should bunker down for the night to ride it out. If she were to stay by his side, it would make his job much easier, as well as help keep her warm. Her body shook inside his arms. “We’re going to die tonight, aren’t we?”
“No, we have too much to live for. We should remove some of this wet clothing and get warm under the blankets.” He motioned to her. “Come, cara, let’s take cover on the bunk.”
“I told you, I am not letting you make love to me.” Her voice was full of scorn. “I will not be your wife in truth.”
“You are my wife in truth.” He frowned. “But to ease your fears, I will not make any demands of you. I don’t want you in my bed out of obligation.” He rather liked it when the women he bedded enjoyed it as much as he did. He looked forward to experiencing desire with her. She may have been willing to marry Noah and provide him an heir for a sense of duty, but Damian wanted more from a wife. Especially one he never expected to have.
Damian hoped to ease her fears. He spoke the truth. When—and there would be a when—he made love to Pearla, she would be a willing participant. He did not force himself on reluctant women. He didn’t need to. There were more than enough women who desired to join him in his bed. It should irk him that the only woman he now desired didn’t want him, but he never backed down from a challenge. Everything his pretty little wife did was exactly that. They would live a very interesting life together, provided they got the chance to live it.
“I mean it.” She reminded him. “I will not lay with you.”
Damian smirked. She might believe what she was spouting off, but he knew it wouldn’t take much to change her mind. His wife had conveniently forgotten how she’d gotten lost in his kiss previously.
“This whole situation is far from proper.” She nodded. “But you’re right. We’ll catch our death if we stay in wet clothing.”
“True” His mood lightened. “But not everything is out of our control. Whether or not we enjoy each other is totally up to us. If you don’t want to know what it is like to feel true pleasure, then that is your choice.”
Pearla turned her back to him. “As long as we understand each other. Please unlace my dress.”
He moved behind her, and kissed her shoulder. “When you’re ready all you have to do is say the word. For now, we will only seek the warmth our bodies need to survive.”
Damian slowly undid her laces, leaving them gaping open. She slid the dress off letting it pool into a pile on the floor, her delectable body only covered by a thin chemise. He stood rooted in one spot, clenching his fists against his side as he fought his desire. He’d promised he wouldn’t act on his impulses, and he intended to keep his word. Pearla picked up her dress and draped it over a chair. She turned toward him. Her gaze met his and she gasped. The sun had fallen and they had almost no light, but the desire in her eyes was a flame that called to him. He must resist.
“Are you going to remove your wet clothing?”
Damian groaned. He was doomed to fail. “Yes,” he croaked. He quickly removed his wet clothes, leaving his underclothes on, and set him near hers to dry. Each movement designed to keep his hands from seeking her delectable body.
“I’m getting chilly. I think you’re correct. We need to seek warmth before we freeze.” Pearla rubbed her shoulders.
Damian closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He could do this.
“Come. Let’s get com
fortable. The storm might last for hours, even days.”
He led her to the bed and sat down. She remained quiet, but sat down beside him. Damian’s lips tilted into a half-smile. He’d given her something to think about. The kiss they’d shared had been more than pleasant. Perhaps he should remind her—no he would respect her wishes. If she wanted to kiss him, he wouldn’t stop her though.
“I will know pleasure one day.” She blurted. “It just won’t be with you.”
The hell it won’t. “If you say so cara.”
“I do. You will never know any kind of pleasure with me.” Her voice was firm.
The shipped rocked violently causing them to fall backward on the bed. Pearla crawled on top of him and hid her head against his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her hugging her tight.
“What were you saying?”
“This isn’t delight at being in your arms, you oaf.” She muttered against his chest. “This is me fearing for my life.”
He laughed. “Where I am sitting, this is the greatest pleasure a man could ever have. I get to hold my wife and comfort her.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
“I make no promises, cara.”
If he got his way, they’d be spending many nights in the exact position they were in—only with far less clothing. Not that they were wearing much now. There was still enough preventing him from having her naked in his arms. Damian groaned. His wife had no clue where his mind was wandering. It was for the best. If she knew, she’d move away from him, and that would defeat his purposes. One day she would willingly fall into his arms. It was one promise to himself he intended to keep.
“Oh, be quiet, Damian. I like you much better when you don’t open your mouth.”
He chuckled lightly. “Settle in and get comfortable. I have a feeling this storm is going to last all night.”
Damian wanted to tell her he could do a lot of things with his mouth she’d enjoy quite a bit, but he knew when to hedge his bets. This was not an argument he would win at that moment. For now, he’d gladly settle for holding her in his arms throughout the night.
