“I’m going to go get you a few things for tomorrow,” Deklan says.  He stands up and goes to the dresser for his keys.

“It’s two in the morning,” I say as I glance at the clock on the nightstand.

“There’s a twenty-four hour place at the end of the block.  They should at least have a few things you’ll need.  I’ll be back soon.”

In a flash, he’s gone from the bedroom.  I hear the front door open and close again as he leaves, and I sit on the edge of the bed, alone.

I narrow my eyes at the bedroom doorway, trying to comprehend Deklan’s words and actions, and I don’t know how I should react.  Is he really going to the corner store to get me supplies, or is it a ruse?  He wouldn’t take the time to set up such a ruse if he’s just going to kill me, would he?

Maybe he wants me compliant.  Maybe he wants to catch me off guard just to make it easier on him.  He probably just doesn’t want me crying and whining on our wedding night.  He wants me calm until he’s ready to kill me.

But everything he said, and the way he said it, sounded completely true.  He has no reason to lie to me at this point, and going out to buy stuff would be a total waste of time and effort.  Money, too.  Based on the sparse nature of his apartment, Deklan obviously doesn’t live like the Foleys do.

He’s not going to kill me.

I let the thought sink in for a moment as I rub at my left wrist.  I remember his fingers there, rubbing my skin in the same circular motion.  Just the thought of his hand on me brings a moment of peace deep inside of me.

Why did he do that?  Is he so observant that he remembered me rubbing my wrist yesterday when Sean was announcing the change of plans?  Does he realize that sort of touch calms me?

I wrap my arms around myself and try to rethink everything I assumed since the moment Deklan kissed me in front of the justice of the peace.  If half of what he told me is true, maybe this will work out better than I expected.

I’m still lost in thought when Deklan returns with a plastic shopping bag.  I take the bag and look through it.  He’s done a decent job of finding me the necessities though the only clothing is a three-pack of store-brand, bikini underwear and a pair of white socks.  At least I will finally get to brush my teeth.

“Sorry I couldn’t get any real clothes,” Deklan says.  “We can go get your things later or even go shopping if you want.”

I stare at him as my mind plays with the idea of Deklan taking me to a mall and buying me clothing and makeup.  The image of him holding up dresses for me to try on doesn’t suit him.  Maybe he’d wait outside the dressing room, guarding me with his watchful eyes.

“Why are you doing this?”  I can’t quite swallow past the lump in my throat.

“Doing what?”

“Getting this stuff.  Talking about shopping.  Being nice to me.”

Deklan takes a half step backward and stares at me.

“You said you needed that stuff.”

I stare back at him.  He looks genuinely confused, and his expression mirrors my own.  Everything that has happened over the last day is just too much, and the pressure behind my eyes is threatening to give way.

“Kera, what is it?”

“Nothing,” I say.  “Sorry, I’m just a little tired.”

I take the plastic bag from the corner store and return to the bathroom to brush my teeth.  The simple act calms me slightly.  I check myself in the mirror one last time before returning to the bedroom.

Deklan is standing near the dresser.  His feet are bare, and his dress shirt is draped over a chair along with his belt.  I can see the sharp outline of his back muscles through his white T-shirt.  He looks me over as I enter the room.  His eyes darken, and he quickly wets his lips.

“Maybe you should just go to bed.”

I glance over at the monstrosity covered in pillows and blankets.  If I were to get into it now, which side would I be on?

“I mean to sleep,” Deklan says, clarifying.  “You said you were tired.  I could even stay on the couch if you want.”

“No.”  There’s no point in prolonging this any longer.  “This is our wedding night, after all.”

Our wedding night.

I swallow hard.

“We don’t have to, Kera.  Not unless you’re ready.”

“You said you were Catholic.”

“I am.”

“Well, marriage doesn’t even count until...until it’s consummated.”

“I’m Catholic,” Deklan says, “not living in the fourteenth century.”

“It still doesn’t count,” I say again.  “The marriage can still be annulled.  I bet Sean will ask, too.  Would you lie to him?”

“No.”  Deklan shakes his head slowly.  “My loyalty is with the Foley family.  I would not lie to him or go against him in any way.”

“Then we should do this.”

“I can refrain from answering for a while,” Deklan says.  “I don’t have to lie to him to protect you.  I could just keep my phone off.  Problem solved.”

“I wouldn’t want to put you in that position.”

He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly.  His gaze drops for a second as he takes in the sheer white lingerie I’m wearing.  My skin tingles and a shiver runs down my spine.  No one has ever looked at me in such a way, and I can only assume the look on his face is pure lust.  He quickly looks back to my eyes.

“Are you sure,” he asks, “or are you still worrying that Sean will find out?”

“I’m sure.”

He looks at me doubtfully.  He clenches his fingers slightly, and I wonder what he’s thinking.  Is he imagining his hands on me?  Is he thinking about laying me down on that gigantic bed and making me his wife in that final, undeniable way?  The image runs through my head, and my thighs clench.

Deklan presses his lips together and starts to shake his head.  He’s going to refuse, and I suddenly don’t want that to happen.

“Really,” I say quickly, hoping to sound more convincing, “I’m sure.  Please.  I…I want to.”

Deklan glances away and closes his eyes for a moment.  His body goes tense.  I don’t understand his frustrated look.

“Come here,” he says softly as he reaches toward me.

He takes my hand and leads me over to the bed.  We both sit at the end, and he turns to look at me.  I can’t meet his eyes, so I look at my hands instead.  He won’t have any of that, though.  He places his hand under my chin and turns me to look at him.

“You know what I am…what I do.”  It’s a statement, not a question.  I don’t know the specifics of the job, but the image of Deklan holding a gun to my father’s head flashes through my mind.  I nod quickly, and Deklan’s eyes soften slightly.  “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Deklan stares into my eyes with intensity, his pupils dilated.  I have no idea how to respond to his statement; I don’t even know what he means.  He won’t hurt me right this second?  He won’t hurt me when he fucks me?  Or does he actually mean he’s going to be merciful and wait to kill me in my sleep so I won’t feel anything?

“I know you’re scared,” he says.

“I’m not.”  I don’t even sound convincing to myself.

“I know you are,” he says again.  He releases my chin and sighs.  “You have every right to be scared.  This whole situation is…is…fucked up.”

I can’t argue with the sentiment.

“But I’m not going to hurt you.”

I nod though I’m still not sure I believe it.  Deklan looks back at me.

“Stand up,” he says as he takes my hand in his and pulls lightly.

I do as he asks, and he pulls me around until I’m standing in front of him.  With him sitting on the bed and me standing, we are just about at eye level.  He watches me as he reaches to his waistline and pulls off the plain white T-shirt, and I’m staring at his naked chest.

Every muscle is outlined.  He’s got an eight-pack for abs instead of the usual six.  His shoulders and arms are huge.  They look like they could crush a man without any effort at all.  There’s a long, thin scar near his shoulder.

I look back to his face, and his blue eyes have a softer look about them.  For the first time, I find myself really looking at him.  His cheekbones are high, his jaw strong, and his nose perfectly straight.  His dark hair is cut short, nearly military style, and contrasts sharply with his skin.  The calm displayed in his eyes has changed his appearance completely, and I feel some of my fear slip away.

I watch as he drops his gaze from my face to my body, feeling heat rise to my skin as he looks down to my feet and then back to my eyes.

“You’re a beautiful girl,” he says, and I glance away, embarrassed by his words.  Deklan reaches up and touches my shoulder before slowly tracing his fingers down my arm and gripping my hand until I look back at him.

He takes my hand and places it on his chest, right above his heart, never taking his eyes off mine.  I take in a long breath, wondering why my heart is beating so quickly.  He doesn’t speak.  He just holds my hand against his skin until I move my thumb back and forth, running it along the curve of his pectoral, and a shiver courses through my body.

He’s so warm.  I can’t believe how soft his skin is, considering the hard, external appearance he’s displayed before.  I can feel his heart beating under my palm, and my head swims.

Deklan reaches up to my hips and steadies me.  I didn’t even realize I was swaying.  He moves his hands up and down my sides, and I tense.

“Relax,” he says quietly.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

“You can do whatever you want, as far as I’m concerned.”

“But…what am I supposed to do?”

He smiles gently.

“Touch me,” he says.

“Where?”

“Anywhere.”

The reality of what we are about to do floods my brain.  I’m so nervous I can barely stand.  My hands are shaking as I copy his earlier motion, and trace his shoulder and arm with a single finger.  When he doesn’t move, I run back up his arm with my whole hand, stopping at his bicep.  He flexes, and I push back against the firm muscle.

“How much can you bench press?”  I know almost nothing about weightlifting, but it sounds like the kind of question someone might ask a body builder.

“Four hundred or so,” Deklan responds with a slight shrug, “if I have a spotter.”

I nod as if I know what he’s talking about, but I have no clue what a “spotter” is.  Four hundred pounds is a lot.

Deklan stands, and my hands fall from his shoulders as he towers over me.  He reaches down and releases the button on his pants and then lowers the zipper.  As his pants fall to the floor, I notice scarring on his lower leg, but it’s not a thin line like the one on his shoulder.  His skin looks mottled, like the kind of scar left from a burn.  As I try to be subtle about looking at the scars, Deklan hooks his thumbs into the waistline of his boxer-briefs, slowly pulls them down, and my eyes go wide.

I don’t know if it’s huge; I have no basis for comparison.  It looks big, jutting out from his body like a tentacle attached to a bizarre underwater alien in a monster movie.

It also looks…weird.

From the pictures I remember from health classes, I’m expecting a ridge and a bulbous tip at the end, but there isn’t one.  Instead, his whole shaft runs smoothly together, all the way to the end.

“I was never cut.”  Deklan’s voice startles me from my ogling.

“Cut?”

“Circumcised.”

“Oh.”  I don’t know how else to respond.  I know from my online classes that some men have a foreskin and some do not, but apparently, I’ve only seen pictures of men without one.

I realize I’m still staring at it and quickly look away.  I hear Deklan chuckle softly, and I wonder what is so funny.

“You’re laughing at me.”  I sound like a petulant child, and I don’t care.  This is all bad enough as it is.  I don’t need him mocking me as well.

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“You’re just…young,” Deklan says.  “It’s not what I’m used to.”

I consider asking just what sort of woman he is used to but think better of it.  I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know the answer.

“It’s all right.”  Deklan takes my face in his hands.  “Touch it.  Feel it.  Do whatever is going to make you more comfortable with this.”

My heart beats faster.  I’m not sure I want to touch it, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to touch it.  Should I caress it softly or grip it hard?  My inexperience is leading to panic, and I can’t even bring myself to move.

“You really don’t want to do this.”

“Yes, I do.”  I want it over with.  I want it done—completed.

Consummated.

I also just want it.  I want to feel his hands on me.  I want to know what it’s like to have something like that inside of me.  I want him on top of me, looking down at me with that lust-filled stare.  I shiver at the thought, and my breath catches audibly in my throat.

Deklan suddenly takes a step away from me.

“I can’t do this,” he says.  “I’m not a rapist.  I’m not going to do this.”

My stomach drops with his words, and I’m suddenly aware of the chill in the room as he backs away from me, denying me the heat of his body as his words chill my bones.

“Maybe this is all a big mistake.”