Chapter Thirteen

James hadn’t exaggerated. She could barely walk the next morning. Every step was a reminder of him pounding into her with the craze of a wild animal. It throbbed with an intensity she could barely fathom.

But Christ if she didn’t love every second of it, and fuck if she didn’t want to do it again. Just as soon as her vagina stopped feeling like she’d spent the whole day riding bareback on an elephant. No amount of ice in the world was going to help that swelling go down.

She climbed out of the shower, using both sides of the narrow stall to ease herself onto the mat. Her thigh muscles trembled with the effort. Her pelvis bone whimpered.

She almost whimpered.

But there was no time to stay curled up in bed and wait for her body to realign itself. It was dawn, and James had shaken her awake with only a quiet, time to get up. He’d been gone before she could tell him she didn’t want to get up, that she’d barely slept.

Nevertheless, she hadn’t been able to return to sleep. She’d lain there for a full ten minutes before realizing she was wide awake. Then she’d made the mistake of getting up.

The pain had nearly been enough to force her back into bed. But she’d grabbed a pair of sweats and a t-shirt from the chest and waddled her way into the bathroom, hoping a hot shower would loosen the muscles.

It hadn’t.

She’d just finished dressing when James entered the room. He found her standing in the doorway between the washroom and the bedroom, hands braced on the frames, not moving.

“What?”

She stared at him, kind of hating him for the throbbing in her cooch, while simultaneously wanting to jump him all over again. The conflicting emotions were no help at all with the frustration she couldn’t shake off.

“You broke my vagina.”

James blinked. “What?”

“It’s broken,” she stated very clearly. “I’m sure of it.”

“Your vagina?” he clarified.

“Yes!” she snapped. “Christ.”

In that moment, Captain James Crow proved himself a very wise man. He discreetly cleared his throat and kept a tight lid on the grin she just knew he was suppressing, because it was all over his eyes — a glint of pride and smug arrogance.

He rubbed a hand over his mouth and jaw. Then used the tips of the four fingers on that same hand to tap his bottom lip.

“Are you sore?” She looked him over, searching for signs that he was in even a tiny measure of pain.

“My back hurts a little,” he confessed.

Bastard.

“Hey.” He caught her elbow when she started for the bed. “What if I told you you could have a hot bath tonight?”

Cora’s eyes narrowed warily. “I’m listening.”

“First you have to do something.”

He took her hand and led her from the room. They passed a couple of men headed in the opposite direction. Neither glanced at her, or said a word. But they inclined their heads to James.

“Where’s Nicholas?” she asked.

“At the bridge.”

She frowned. “Which bridge?”

“The ship bridge. The control room,” he explained.

That only served to confuse her further. “But we’re not moving.”

“The ship needs to be monitored twenty-four hours of the day, even ported.”

“Are we going to the bridge?”

She didn’t think so. They seemed to be going deeper into the ship, opposed to the edges. Her theory proved corrected when she caught sight of the familiar sign to the officer’s lounge. Then the door itself. 

There was a man inside. An older man with downy white hair trimmed short and kind brown eyes. He was dressed entirely in black and a white collar was tucked beneath the crisp turndown of his lapel. He sat on the sofa with a tattered prayer book in his lap, and a patient expression.

He smiled and rose when James walked in, showing off a single dimple on the left side.

“This is Cora,” James said, propelling her closer.

“Hello,” she said quietly.

He offered her his hand. “It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you, Cora. I’ve heard a great deal about you.”

Not sure how to respond to that, she offered him a small smile.

“Reverend Marcus is going to marry us,” said James.

She realized she should have realized that. It was part of their agreement, after all. She had accepted his non-proposal. But she hadn’t realized how quickly he wanted to get it done. Although, she probably should have.

“I see,” she whispered, struggling around the breath lodged in her throat. “Now?”

Both men nodded.

But only Reverend Marcus seemed concerned. “Are you all right with that?”

She didn’t need to look at James to know her answer, even if it was a lie. “Yes, of course.” She even managed a bigger smile.

Be his wife.

Be his wife.

That was the agreement, yet nothing had ever felt more wrong. Being his bedmate, being his lover, his fuck toy, being his whore, had been so simple, thrilling even. She had no hesitation, no doubts.

But his wife...

“Cora?”

The Reverend had asked her something. He was watching her with concern and patience.

She flushed. “I’m sorry. What?”

“I asked if you wanted to change.”

She’d only been given the one dress that James had torn to shreds, and she doubted he had another.

“No, this is fine.”

Marriage had always been something Cora had expected to share with Elise. There was supposed to be tears, and champagne, and dresses. It was supposed to be months of planning and turmoil. It was supposed to be with the man she couldn’t get enough of.

It was supposed to be the happiest day of her fucking life.

She wasn’t supposed to want to cry.

But she was wrapped in sweats, a baggy shirt, and no shoes. What little makeup she’d applied the night she’d been scrubbed away with her shower. Her hair, having gone several states of wet and dry without a brush had become frayed, tangled, and brittle. Her skin was pale and dry from days at sea and lack of sun. She was quite possibly the ugliest bride to ever walk the aisle.

What was worse, her mother was nowhere in sight. Her father hadn’t given her away, and Deidra wasn’t there to throw her an incredibly inappropriate bachelorette party.

She was alone and trapped.

But she stood when Reverend Marcus asked her to.

She faced James like she was supposed to.

She answered with conviction when the damning question was asked of her, and she signed the paper joining her forever to the man who had no qualms about taking her life.

It was only when he declared they seal the union with a kiss that neither she nor James moved. Protocol seemed to have failed them both.

But he came to his senses first.

He hooked a finger into the loose material of her shirt hem and tugged her to him. The unexpected pull sent her straight into his chest where his arms came around her, where his hand burrowed under the weight of her hair to cradle the back of her neck. She was entirely at his mercy as he bowed her to his body.

Then he kissed her, his and her eyes still open, both daring the other to close first. Their lips melded in an angry dance of wills and unrepressed passion. That was the thing they never seemed to lack between them—passion, desire, a deep, unquenching thirst to fuck relentlessly. It was all there, roaring like an inferno of undiluted lust. It was almost enough.

Why wasn’t it enough?

He released her mouth with a final nip of teeth. His hold remained resolute and unyielding around her as their breaths tangled together in rapid pants. It was the kind of hold that vibrated with possessive energy.

“I have something for you in my quarters.”

The words took several seconds to process properly through her mind. Once it did, she pulled out of his hold and made her way a bit gingerly to the door on weakened knees. Nicholas waited for her just outside the door and the feel of his constant presence prickled the annoyance she’d been fighting back every time he escorted her from one part of the ship to the other.

While she’d gathered it was for her protection and he was only following orders, she still couldn’t help feel like his time was being wasted because of her.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than follow me around?” she demanded as he led her to James’s cabin.

“Captain’s orders.”

Cora shook her head. “You’re his second, aren’t you? Shouldn’t you be doing more important things?”

Nicholas seemed unfazed by her venom. “The Captain wants me to protect you. That is my only priority.”

“And why is that?” She stopped and rounded on him. “I kept my promise. I won’t run. I’m his stupid wife now.”

She realized how that sounded after the words left her, but she didn’t back down. She was stupid. Probably the stupidest person on the planet. Marrying a complete stranger was usually reserved for drunken vacationers in Las Vegas, but it was made worse by all the real reason tying her to him.

The reason she had to be compliant.

Obedient.

As if it wasn’t bad enough that she was being forced to spend her life with a man who hated her, but she was neck deep in a world she’d avoided her entire life. Adding the continuous threat on her parent’s lives, all she wanted to do was huddle in a corner and cry.

Instead, she stood in a dank corridor, glowering at the only person she could yell at without getting spanked.

“Stop following me!” she snapped, horrified when her voice broke and tears welled.

Nicholas said nothing. He did nothing. He stood big and mute while she gulped for breath and fought not to fall apart.

“I can get there on my own,” she finished weakly.

Leaving him there, she made her way down the familiar halls and doors in the direction of James’s cabin. Nicholas followed, but at a far, discreet distance she could almost pretend wasn’t happening.

She locked herself up in the room and slumped against the door. She shut her eyes and let herself slide down to the floor.

She was married, and not to a man she loved, or even a man she semi liked.

She was married to the enemy.

A man who could melt her with a touch and freeze her with a glance.

A man who couldn’t be bothered with what happened to her.

She married her kidnapper.

Her captor, and there was nothing she could do about it.

He owned her.

The twist and turns of her new life reminded her of a board game she used to play with her parents on Sundays during family time. It was an elaborate maze of ladders and snakes, and being forced to maneuver around the reptiles to safety without falling down the ladders. Her life was now a series of trap floors and cobras. One false move and her whole world could be ripped out from under her.

But that didn’t mean she needed to accept it. Marrying James was the only way to protect her parents. She didn’t regret that. She’d sacrifice everything for them, her body, her future, her life. None of it mattered if they weren’t in it.

If keeping James close meant marrying him, fucking him, submitting to him, she’d happily do it all. Plus, what better place to be than inside the enemy’s circle?

Semi comforted by her new purpose, Cora rose from the floor and went in search of whatever James had for her. Whatever it was, it hadn’t been there before they left, which meant Nicholas, or one of the other men had placed them there while their captain was tying the knot.

They were clothes, all laid out across the bed in a neat row.

A cashmere sweater in a soft beige, buttery soft jeans, a coat in an off white, and white, lacy undergarments. Next to them, a hairbrush and her makeup bag. On the floor, next to the cot, a pair of gorgeous knee high boots in soft, black leather. Everything was her size and the perfect tones to compliment her coloring. She couldn’t have chosen better if she’d gone shopping for herself.

The door opened behind her and James emerged. He looked from her to the clothes she hadn’t touched and hesitated.

“Something wrong?”

She turned away with a shake of her head. “They’re nice. Thank you.”

“Cora.”

The compulsion overrode her original desire to keep the question in her head to herself. The single murmur of her name in that tone left no room for anything, but her absolute honesty. She wasn’t sure what it was, or how he did it, but the word left her without a shred of consent.

“Why?” She bit her lip as if that might stop the rest, only they were already on the heels of the first. “Why did you marry me?” She faced the blurry outline of him. “I already agreed to sleep with you. I agreed to stay. I don’t...” Her breath caught in the knot in her chest. “I don’t understand.”

He closed the door.

“It wasn’t enough,” he replied with a hint of remorse she refused to believe wasn’t her imagination.

“I didn’t want to get married.”

“I know.”

“Not like that.”

He nodded slowly. “I know.”

His quiet patience was doing nothing to smother the emotions welling up inside her, threatening to spill over. She would have preferred his rage, his annoyance, his indifference. Not this. She couldn’t handle this.

“Then why did you do this to me?” Her voice broke. “How could you hate me so much that you would deprive me...?”

“This wasn’t my plan,” he told her with just a hint of stress that mirrored in his eyes. “I never wanted you here.”

“Then take me back!” she cried. A tear slipped. Then another. A cascade of never ending pain. “Take me home, James.”

“No.”

Heart drumming wildly between her ears, Cora spun and snatched the first thing she could get her hands on. The sweater was hurled at him. Then the jeans. The hairbrush was about to follow but her arms were restrained. Her body was crushed. She was pulled into his chest.

“Enough,” he murmured into her temple.

Breathing hard, she stood rigid in the confines. Her back heaved beneath the scalding touch of his palms.

“I hate you,” she choked into his collarbone. “I hate you for doing this to me, for taking everything I care about away. I will never forgive you.”

“I’m already going to hell, sweetheart. Your forgiveness can’t save me now.”

She pulled out of his arms. He let her go. He watched her try and decide what to say without saying a word.

“What now?” She wiped at her cheeks with the backs of her hands. “I wait in the bedroom for whenever you decide you need a fuck?”

His head cocked to one side. “It doesn’t have to be the bedroom.”

Fury clashed with her resolve to be rational.

“I won’t just sit and wait around for you. I have a job. I have a business. I gave you everything now let me go home.”

“You’re never going back, Cora.”

Those five little words were like a fist in the chest. She felt the impact rattle through her entire body.

She staggered back a step.

“What?”

“This is it.” He threw out his arms to the sides, indicating the cabin. “This is home now.”

The world flickered between color and gray. Sound rose and muted. Everything seemed to be fracturing, shattering, falling apart. She couldn’t even hear the rest of his words as a howl of agony ripped through her skull, deafening her.

It was only after her feet had flown off the ground that she realized the scream was coming from her. By then, she was on him, fists flying, nails clawing. She was a deranged, rabid animal.

“You promised! You promised to take me home!”

There was barely any use of strength on his part when he restrained her. He grabbed one wrist, twisted her around and pinned both arms in an X across her chest.

“Enough!” His snarl broke through her madness, but barely.

“Let go of me!”

She threw back her head like her uncle had taught her and got him in the mouth. His roar was overshadowed by her bellow as she tore free.

Without waiting, she bolted. The door flew open under her hand and she was tearing through the corridors. Her feet up the stairs she now knew led to the deck. She burst through the door and kept running.

Someone shouted after her.

Maybe her name.

Maybe to stop.

But that wasn’t happening.

She could see the stairs off the ship.

She could see the docks.

She could see the main road with cars going in either direction.

She just needed to get to one.

Someone grabbed the back of her shirt. The sound of tearing filled the air and was swallowed by her scream.

She spun, arms swinging. She caught James in the face with an open palm. The smack wasn’t nearly as satisfying, or as hard as the first time she’d hit him, but it sparked the fury already rolling across his eyes.

His hold tightened on her arms. The pain had her crying out.

Without saying a word, he bent down and scooped her up over one shoulder. The world spun in a blur of dull gray. Then there was nothing but his back and the wide strides of his feet as he carried her back. The bouncing going down the stairs knocked the wind and the fight out of her. Each bump forced his shoulder up into her sternum.

But it wasn’t entirely that reason she hung limp. It was the realization that she would never leave that room. That ship. Those four walls would forever be her prison, and he would always bring her back.

The moment he dropped her on the bed, Cora burst into tears. The wall containing the last week of her life crumbled down around her and it all just came rushing out in a flood of agony. Every sob tore through her in waves of acid. Each splash burned away a little more of the person she was until she was sure there would be nothing left.

“I never promised to take you home.”

Wheezing for breath, Cora raised her face from her cupped palms and glowered at him. “Last night. You said you would soon.”

He stood clear across the room with his arms folded, fury blazing over his features.

“No, I said you could see your parents soon.” He waited for that to sink in before continuing. “You’re my wife, Cora. You live where I live. That’s how marriage works.”

He had said that, she realized with a sickening jolt. She’d been the one to think taking her to her parents was the same as taking her home. She’d been the idiot.

“What about my bar, my apartment?” She bunched the hem of her shirt and wiped her eyes. “What about my life? Am I supposed to give up everything?”

“We’ll figure it out, but for now...”

He stalked to her in three wide strides and grabbed her wrist. She was yanked to her feet and made to stand there as he took her spot.

“What—?”

Without a word, he whipped down her pants to her ankles, ignored her sputter of protest, and jerked her over his knees. She barely had time to throw out her hands to keep her face from smacking the carpet.

“James!”

The first smack stole her breath away. Her cry caught in her chest and burst out with the second. Both blazed white hot across her left ass cheek. The sting had her flailing, struggling.

“Every time you struggle, I’ll add five more,” he warned.

She went still.

The third one landed on her right cheek. Her body twitched despite her protest. Her fingers curled into the carpet. The knuckles blazed white behind the new swell of tears.

The fourth hit her right cheek again.

Cora sobbed. Her leg muscles convulsed as the need to rub the stings rippled through her body.

The fifth one met her left cheek.

The spot was gently rubbed a moment later, soothing the burn.

“Those were for throwing your clothes and striking me ... again,” he said calmly.

Five more hard thwacks met each cheek. By the third one, Cora was openly weeping. Her entire body felt as though it were on fire, her head was hot with blood, and her inability to soothe the sharp tingles only intensified her frustration.

But the worst was the humiliation. She was a grown woman bent bare ass over a man’s knee ... getting spanked. There couldn’t possibly be a worse way to get punished.

The fifth one ended soundly on her right cheek.

Once again, he rubbed the spot gently when it was over.

“Those were for running out in the cold, not listening, and hitting me ... again.”

Gingerly, he lowered her down on her knees between the V of his legs. He brushed back locks of hair and took her chin in his fingers.

He no longer looked angry, she noted, as he wiped her cheeks.

“Okay?”

She wanted to stare at him incredulously and tell him, no, of course she wasn’t all right. He’d just spanked her like a damn five year old.

But her head bobbed with a will of its own.

He leaned in and kissed her softly on the mouth. “Good girl,” he murmured, pulling back. “Now, take off your clothes and get on the bed.”

Her ass was tingling, her vagina still hurt, a normal person would have refused. But she shed her clothes and climbed into the space behind him.

The bed jolted when he rose and went to the desk. A condom was unearthed. Then he returned, removing his own clothes with every step.

He was gentle. The completely opposite of the previous night. Every angled thrust was fluid and mindful, matching the tender strokes of his lips moving over hers.

Cora came with a soft gasp, almost a sigh against the side of his neck. Her fingers tightened in his hair as her hips rose to meet his.

“I will never be your white knight, Cora,” he whispered when it was over and they lay in a tangle of lax limbs. “But I will be your villain. I will be your monster. I will build for you, destroy for you. I will kill for you. I will protect you, but I’m not capable of love. No monster is.”

Cora shut her eyes. His words echoed through her, a desperate little promise that skirted the length of her spine, right along with his trailing fingers. Each blunt tip walked the path of her torso, tickling and scratching from nape to crack. He alternated between callused skin and tattered nail, leaving her lost in each sensation with acute awareness.

“What about your other women?”

The trailing of his fingers stopped at the center of her back.

“Other women?”

Cora raised her face from its snug place at the hollow of his throat. “You don’t honestly think I believe you, or anyone on this ship, can correctly coordinate a woman’s wardrobe, do you?”

His lashes dropped to half-masts with his quiet hum of understanding. The fingers that had been marking paths along her skin lifted and skimmed the curve of her cheek. It swept back a lock of hair and tucked it behind her ear.

“There are no other women.” He traced the bow of her mouth when it opened with her denial. “I asked Mable — August’s wife. She’s a manager at a clothing boutique.”

“And she just happened to know my size perfectly?”

“I sent her photos, she guessed the rest.”

“What photos?”

His smile was beautiful, a dazzling sight to behold. She couldn’t remember ever seeing it that full.

“I have several in my personal collection.”

Cora blinked. “You have a personal collection ... you know what, I don’t want to know. How?”

“I sent her the money. She sent the clothes. It was all very legal.”

“Except where you apparently have nude pictures of me,” she grumbled.

“Mostly legal then,” he murmured softly. “But those I keep only for me.”

A hot rush enveloped her, stealing her breath and making her painfully aware of his scent swirling and shackling her to the spot, restraining her to the bed.

“You ... you shouldn’t have any,” she breathed.

“But I wanted them,” he stated it so easily, as if they were discussing a mere candy bar he’d been craving, and it was said in that same even whisper that flowed through her like warm honey. “So, I took them.”

“How would you even have pictures like that?”

His lips curved darkly. “I am very good at what I do. You know that.”

She swallowed audibly at the dirty innuendo. “That doesn’t explain how you...” She couldn’t seem to be able to catch her breath. His proximity was fucking with her head. His scent was toying with her senses. He needed to move away from her. “Have you been following me?”

His gaze pivoted away from her eyes and lowered to her mouth. “What do you think?”

Something about that confession had her memory swirling back to that last night, right after she’d left the club and those boys who had cornered her. None of it had seemed connected, yet, thinking on it while he followed the path of her mouth with his eyes, there was no missing it.

“It was you. That night outside the club, you were the one in the shadows, the one who gave me my gun back.”

“You looked so fuckable in that dress.”

The low, guttural confession washed over her with the intensity of plunging into a vat of boiling water. It tore away flesh and bone, leaving her vulnerable and exposed before the animal destroying her with just his eyes.

“The other women,” she whispered, needing to bring the conversation back to its original topic.

“There are no other women,” he repeated.

“Here—”

“Anywhere.” His gaze bore into hers, unwavering. “There is no one.”

She told herself she was only relieved because having another woman when he was married to her was disrespectful. It had nothing to do with anything else.

“But speaking of other people.” He clipped her chin between his thumb and bent index finger and tilted her face to his. His grin was gone, replaced by something that sent a different shiver through her, a colder one. “This is not an open marriage. I’m possessive of what’s mine, and I have an entire ocean at my disposal to make things disappear. You are mine. Only mine. And only I will have you. Do you understand?”

“Jealous?” she braved, feeling oddly bolder than she should.

“I don’t believe in jealousy, sweetheart. I know what belongs to me, and I know what I’m prepared to do to keep it.”

Trembling uncontrollably with something far older, far more primal than fear or lust, Cora gulped. She could feel herself sinking into the silky folds of his warning, could feel it gliding around her full of dark promise, a promise that should have been appalling, except the thought of being his, only his stirred something deep inside her she couldn’t name. But it made her feel perversely wanted, needed ... desired. It made her knees weak and her belly froth hot. Her core blazed with renewed insistency for him to prove it. To claim her. To make her fully his.

“I can hit a bull’s eye from fifty feet,” she whispered. “I know how to dispose of a body without leaving any trace I was ever there. And I know an assassin. I am a jealous woman. I don’t like other women touching things that belong to me. Unconventional marriage or not, you might want to remember that.”

His hand cupped the back of her skull and pulled her to him with a sharp tug that nearly sent her sprawling across his chest. The first gasp had barely left her when he threaded his fingers through her hair and tugged, just hard enough to unroot several strands and send a shower of unadulterated ecstasy scattering down her spine. It yanked on the invisible strings attached to every pleasure point in her entire body until she could have sworn she almost came.

“This is either going to be the best thing that’s ever happened to us.” His snarl burned against her mouth, it left marks as though each word were a stamp. “Or it’s going to destroy us both.” With a kiss that was more punishing than romantic, he released her head and hooked her around the middle. His eyes seemingly glowed in the dim light as he drew her to him and tucked her against his chest. “We have a few hours. Get some rest.”

Cora woke to someone hissing her name and stabbing her in the shoulder. The unwarranted assault pried open her eyelids. She squinted through groggy eyes at the shadow looming over her.

“James?”

The blurry outline was too skinny. It kept swaying and dodging, making Cora’s head hurt.

“Get up!” it hissed.

The voice was female, and angry.

Cora blinked and struggled to sit up. “What—?”

Slowly, the face came into view. Dominating green eyes radiated from a beautiful, familiar face. Dark hair swung around thin shoulders clad in shiny leather. But it was the face, the wonderful, amazing face.

“Deidra?”

She was dreaming. She had to be. There was no other explanation for how her mom’s bodyguard would be on the ship.

“Hey baby girl, we gotta go. Come on.”

Disorientation had Cora’s brain one step behind reality. For a moment, she couldn’t decide which was real and which was the dream, Deidra standing before her, or getting kidnapped by pirates. She realized it was all real with just one glance around the room.

“James.”

She swung her head over her shoulder, half expecting him to be lying next to her, a bullet wound gushing up blood.

But the space behind her lay empty and cold when she slid her hand across it.

“Where’s James?”

“That really doesn’t matter right now,” Deidra muttered. “We need to get you off this ship.”

It hit her then, her thoughts finally catching up to the situation.

“Are you rescuing me?”

Deidra stared. “No, I’m reenacting the nutcracker. Get the fuck up!”

Sheets clasped securely around her, Cora struggled to her feet. “How did you get here? How did you find me?”

“I will explain all that later. Right now, we need to go.”

Cora staggered back a step when the other woman reached for her. “No, I can’t leave.”

“What?” Deidra hissed, careful to keep her voice down. “Are you crazy? Look, whatever he told you, whatever he promised, or threatened, it’s bullshit. I’ll deal with him once I get you in the car.”

Cora shook her head. “I don’t want to go.”

Deidra recoiled as if Cora had cursed. “Don’t ... are you serious?”

“I want to stay.”

“That’s the Stockholm syndrome talking. I’ll beat it out of you later. Get moving or I swear, I’ll knock your ass out and drag you.”

“D, I want to stay,” she repeated. “I want to.”

Deidra opened her mouth.

“You heard her. She’s not going.”

James appeared in the open doorway, dressed and looking unconcerned by the fact that an assassin was onboard his ship.

“Captain.” Deidra unholstered her gun from the pouch strapped to her thigh. “You fucked up. Using your phone ... sloppy.”

James folded his arms. “Yet it took you...” he checked his watch. “Six hours to get here.”

A muscle flexed in Deidra’s jaw. “I was in New Mexico, following a lead on her.”

“Who do you think planted that lead?”

“Do you two know each other?” Cora cut in, looking from one to the other.

“We’ve met once.”

“Twice,” Deidra snapped.

“Twice,” James relented with a shrug. “Briefly.”

Cora’s fingers tightened in the sheets. “Did you two—?”

“No!” both shouted on unison.

“I liberated some cargo from one ... pardon me, two of Ms. Donavan’s clients with her on guard duty.”

Cora remembered that. It had been a few years ago, but Deidra had been furious for weeks about getting her shipment stolen out from under her nose.

“That was you?”

Deidra’s gun jerked up and aimed for James’s face. “Well, fortunately for me, this is going to be the last time our paths cross, Captain. I’m taking the girl and we’re leaving.”

“I can’t let you do that.”

Deidra’s smirk was cold, blood thirsty. Challenging. “Stop me.”

“D, wait!” Cora scurried around her friend and placed herself between the two. “Don’t shoot him.”

“Why?” The question ripped through clenched teeth and a murderous glare. “Give me one good reason.”

Cora hesitated, just a second. “He’s my husband.”

Deidra’s arms went from rigid and prepared for the jolt of gun recoil to limp.

“What did you say?”

“He’s—”

“No, I heard you.” Deidra cut in. “Are you serious? He kidnapped you.”

Cora nodded. “He did.”

“He’s an asshole!”

Cora nodded again. “Yeah, he is.”

“Why would you marry him?”

“Because I told her to.” James stepped forward. His bulk moved into Cora’s path, blocking her from Deidra. “Now get that fucking gun off her.”

Both Cora and Deidra blinked at the snarled request. Neither had noticed the weapon Deidra still had aimed at the middle of Cora’s chest. But it was quickly lowered. As an afterthought, she holstered it.

“She’s still coming with me,” Deidra declared. “De Marco knows where she is. He’ll send every guy he has until she does, so—”

Cora scrambled out from behind James. “Dad knows where I am?”

Deidra’s cool gaze shifted from her to James, a narrowed look of amusement darkening them. “You didn’t tell her?”

“She’s my prisoner, I don’t have to tell her anything,” James stated simply.

“But you talked to my dad?” Cora rounded on him. “When?”

“He made a deal to meet him this afternoon,” Deidra volunteered, with just a hint of arrogance.

“Which we’re going to be late for if you don’t get dressed,” he told Cora.

Cora remained frozen beneath the slip of sheet swaddled around her. She stared at the man towering over her, and making no sense of his actions. But she did understand why he’d bought her new clothes and why he’d told her they still had a few hours before taking that nap. Was it supposed to be a surprise?

No. James wasn’t capable of that.

But what other reasoning was there?

“We’re seeing my parents?”

His answer was an unexpected flick of his gaze to her mouth. They lingered there a full heartbeat, long enough to make her lips tingle and part slightly.

“I promised you soon, didn’t I? Get dressed, sweetheart,” he murmured, before turning on his heels and leaving her alone with Deidra.

“Are we going to see my parents?” She spun to the woman, hope a tight knot in her chest.

“That’s the plan.”

That was all the assurance she needed to stumble to the bundle of clothes someone — most likely James — had folded and placed on the desk. The sheets were dropped without hesitation and she reached for the garments.

“Jesus!”

Cora jolted at the cold prod of Deidra’s fingers on her shoulder blade, nudging her forward.

“Are those ... handprints?”

She turned her head over one shoulder to find her friend gawking at her ass. Cora hadn’t had a chance to admire James’s handiwork from earlier, but she twisted her neck down now to see what had the other woman’s eyes bulging and her jaw unhinged.

The pale skin was a fierce pink with long, visible finger prints spanning towards her hips. There was no mistaking them for what they were, and no way to deny it.

“It’s nothing.”

“Looks like you got your ass tanned,” Deidra muttered.

If only she knew how spot on that was.

Jesus, she still couldn’t believe he’d spanked her. She had no idea how she was supposed to accept that, or act. It seemed like the most insane thing in the world, yet her ass tingled at the memory, a prickle that sent little electric ripples up her spine.

She dressed quickly.

The outfit fit beautifully. It complimented all her features and clung comfortably to her skin. Plus, it was nice getting out of James’s worn, shapeless attire and feeling like a woman again, opposed to a prisoner of war.

“How did you find me?” she asked while in the process of brushing out the knots in her hair.

One shoulder propped against the doorframe of the bathroom, Deidra rolled her eyes. “Not fucking easily. Been halfway around the world ... twice, looking for you. I was on my way back from New Mexico when your dad called to say douchebag called him about you.”

Cora paused and glanced back. “James called my dad?”

“Last night, apparently. Gave De Marco his name and everything like he wanted to get caught.” She crossed her arms. “He’s clearly lost his touch.”

“Or he wanted to get caught,” Cora murmured.

Deidra shrugged dismissively. “Still stupid. I would have been here sooner, then maybe I could have stopped you from making the stupidest decision of your life.”

“It’s not ... okay, it was mildly stupid. I’m not exactly thrilled about it myself.”

She returned to facing the mirror and the beehive she almost had contained.

“Then let’s get out of here.” Deidra stepped into the tiny cubical of a bathroom. “I can take all of them. We’ll be home within the hour.”

Cora shook her head, and winced when the brush caught a thick knot. “I made a promise.”

Deidra growled low in her throat. “This isn’t one of those promises you take seriously, Cor.”

Her arm dropped and she met her friend’s furious glower in the mirror. “I’ve never broken my word, D. I’m not going to start now.”

“You and your fucking word!”

“It’s all a man has. My dad told me that. He’d understand.”

Deidra scoffed. “I highly doubt that, not on this. Besides, you’re not a man.”

She shot the woman a dry frown. “Exactly, which makes keeping my promise all the more important.”

Deidra shook her head and took a step back. “You’re fucking crazy. I don’t even ... like, what’s the matter with you right now? This isn’t the Cora I know. Did he brainwash you? Because I know a guy who can reverse that shit. What does he have on you?”

“Nothing!” She slapped the brush down, no longer capable of winning the war with her hair. “But we made an agreement and so long as I hold my end...”

“What?” Deidra straightened, almost took a step forward. “So long as you hold your end what? Is he blackmailing you? Threatening you? I can put a bullet in his head and solve that right now.”

She spun to her friend, eyes flashing. “No! You’re not going to hurt him!”

Deidra blinked. Perfectly tattooed eyebrows lifted.

“Are ... are you in love with him?”

Cora recoiled. “What? No! of course not. He kidnapped me.”

Long, slender arms folded. A hip thrust out with a glorious display of disbelief.

“Were you here just now?”

“I told you, we have an agreement.”

“Uh huh.”

“Stop it!” She turned away with the pretense of rifling through her makeup bag. “He’s insufferable, if you must know. He’s arrogant and demanding, and outright infuriating. Half the time, I have to restrain myself from stabbing him with something. He drives me crazy. And!” She grabbed a clump of her hair. “He cut my hair! That in itself, any other time, would deserve death, but I have this under control.”

She finished her hair and makeup without another word from the other woman. She donned the boots. The coat was tossed over one arm as she made her way to the door with Deidra right on her heels. Nicholas was absent from his post. James had replaced him keeping up the wall. The change was surprisingly pleasant.

“Decided to stalk me yourself?” she offered, joining him in the corridor.

He straightened off the wall and took her coat. “I never stopped.”

She slipped her arms through when he held it open. “Are we going now?”

He glanced sideways at her, answering without opening his mouth, and the excitement she’d been suppressing for most of the hour came rushing back.

She was going to see her parents. It had only been a week, but the gaping hole their absence had left inside her seemed so infinite, spanning years rather than days. She didn’t know whether to laugh hysterically or cry uncontrollably. She settled on fisting her fingers inside her coat pockets and maintaining control until she actually saw her parents. Until then, James could change his mind. Things could go wrong. Any number of things could happen. That was a chunk of hope she couldn’t lose if her parents weren’t at the end of that meet.

“Cora’s driving with me,” Deidra took Cora’s elbow the moment they hit the docks together.

James took her other arm and tugged her free. “No, she’s not.”

“It’s okay,” Cora cut in when Deidra’s jaw clenched. “We’re all going to the same place, right? Maybe you could come with us.”

The suggestion was met with a repulsed glower from her friend, and a frown from James. But Deidra seemed to think of something and jutted out her chin.

“You know what?” She smirked. “I’d love to.”

Waiting for neither of them, she marched to where Nicholas stood next to a parked town car and yanked open the side passenger seat. She climbed in and shut the door behind her.

James looked down at Cora, his expression a full, angry volume of his displeasure.

“She’s family,” Cora reasoned.

His fingers found her chin. The pinch was remarkably gentle when he lifted her face to his. He kissed her once. Hard.

“You’re going to have to start paying back all these special favors, sweetheart. They’re piling up.”

He left her standing there with a head full of fog and an odd tingling in her fingers. She shut her eyes and swayed as all the sensations in her entire body slowly seeped back from that single kiss alone. She was still trembling when she ambled after him.

The back door was opened and he motioned her in, but it wasn’t as simple as that. Her ass still smarted and her vagina still throbbed, and the tight denim wasn’t helping.

“Need help?”

He didn’t even bother concealing the self-righteous glint turning up the corners of his mouth.

“No!” she muttered tersely, struggling between gripping the top of the door and the top of Deidra’s headrest. “Stop smirking.”

He didn’t, but she ignored it as she finally squeezed herself into the seat with only minimal grimacing.

The drive was done in silence, eerie when there were four, fully grown adults crammed in the car and miles of highway. It spanned the length of her entire city in a direction she’d never taken.

They left towering skyscrapers for the flatlands of the outskirts and endless wilderness. She watched one hour slip into two, into two and a half on the dashboard. It was only when the three hour mark finally loomed into sight that she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Where are they?”

“Patience,” James murmured.

It was on the tip of her tongue to point out that she had been patient ... for a week and three hours, when she caught sight of the back end of her father’s parked Lincoln just up the road. She only knew it was his, because Bruno stood tall and handsome next to the trunk. His dark shades concealed his eyes, but she could feel them watching as the town car drew closer.

Deidra turned in her seat. “Let me talk—”

Any thoughts of listening vanished the moment the back door of the Lincoln swung open and Giovanni emerged.

All sounds dissolved behind the erratic clapping of her heart.

Her senses numbed.

Her world shuddered.

She couldn’t breathe.

He unfolded himself into the late afternoon, a stunning sight in his dark suit and firm expression. Large hands twisted the buttons on his coat into their proper holes. Dark eyes squinted in their direction for just a moment before his head turned to the dark interior of his Lincoln. His lips moved.

A pale arm poked out. It braced on the open door, and was stopped with a shake of his head. But the owner of the arm wasn’t having it.

Elise pushed out despite her husband’s protests and turned to the approaching vehicle, ignoring Giovanni’s hand trying to force her back in.

The sight of her mother was the breaking point for Cora.

It was past the limits of her control.

It snapped the final tether restraining her.

“Cora!”

James’s shout never registered.

Never even made struck a chord.

It meant nothing to her.

Nothing compared to the sight of her parents.

She shoved the door open, moving car be damned.

Nicholas slammed on the breaks, pitching them forward, but Cora was already out, already running, running faster than she’d ever run in her life. Thirty feet stretched into hundreds, but she pumped like her life depended on it.

The crack of her feet had Elise turning, had her gaze landing on Cora. Hazel eyes widened. Her mouth moved, forming Cora’s name. Even Giovanni’s hold wasn’t strong enough to stop her when she tore free and ran.

They collided halfway between the two cars. Cora was already sobbing, heaving wails that sounded inhuman even to her own ears. Elise clutched her, hands fisting into hair, fabric, wherever she could reach.

“Okay, baby, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” Her voice choked against Cora’s shoulder. “You’re home. You’re safe.”

“I’m sorry.”

Elise shook her head, fingers skimming through Cora’s hair. “No, you have nothing to be sorry about, do you understand?”

Then why did it feel like she had everything to be sorry for? Like the pain she’d caused her parents, would continue to cause them was her fault? Why did it feel like she’d brought all this on them?

Elise pulled back first. Her warm fingers took Cora’s face in hand.

“You okay?” Elise brushed back wet strands off Cora’s cheek, red rimmed eyes searching. “Are you hurt?”

But there was no time to answer. The figure behind Elise’s shoulder drew Cora’s attention. The modicum of control she’d managed to pull around herself crumbled. It shattered in glittery shards to nothing.

Giovanni offered her a small smile that might have been comforting if his eyes weren’t bright, if his jaw wasn’t tense.

“Daddy.”

He caught her when she threw herself at him. Both arms wound around her middle and practically lifted her off the ground. His face burrowed into the side of her neck and inhaled deep. His familiar scent of spices and rich wood encircled her, a comforting blanket she could have clung to forever.

“My sweet girl,” he breathed, voice muffled by her shoulder, but thick with emotion. “I was so worried.” He stamped a kiss into the side of her head and pulled back to take her tear stained cheeks between his hands. He searched her face, his thumbs gently wiping the moisture. “Okay?”

She nodded, the motion jerky and erratic with the force of her uncontrollable tremors. “I’m okay.”

He pressed another kiss to her forehead. “Get in the car, baby.”

But the interrupting scuffle behind her brought the rest of the world back into focus. It reminded her of all the things she’d forgotten at the sight of her parents.

James, Nicholas, and Deidra joined the group. Neither man seemed to be in a hurry as they approached, like it was an everyday kind of afternoon, but Cora could sense the tension stiffening Nicholas’s muscles.

The man was coiled like a snake.

He stopped a few feet behind James, eyes fixed on Bruno, who was doing the same from behind Giovanni.

It was a Mexican standoff without the pistols.

But the only party that mattered, the only one who held her focus, her fascination, was James. The silver pools of his gaze bore into her with every graceful stride, like they were the only two on that whole stretch of highway and his only purpose was reaching her.

Only, he never made it to her.

Never even made it close.

Bruno moved when Giovanni did, shadowing his employer until both stood between James and Cora.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t shoot you where you stand, Captain.”

James lingered in his answer, still too focused on her, too intense in his stare. It was just long enough to make Cora’s stomach seize and her heart pick up pace.

“James...”

His name was no more than a subtle, pleading movement of her lips, but it reverted his reluctant attention from her to her father with a disinterest, an annoyance that would have gotten a lesser man shot.

“Shoot me.”

Not a flicker, not a shift in his features.

He was cold.

Indifferent.

Arrogant.

Inconvenienced.

“James!”

No one paid her any attention.

How could they when Giovanni had unearthed a gun from the inside pocket of his coat and had it leveled with James’s face.

“No!”

Cora moved to put herself between the two.

Elise grabbed her before she could even take a step.

“You don’t think I will,” the cool statement washed over the crowd with the same intensity as the barbed air around them. “I wouldn’t put money on that.”

Those beautiful, gray eyes narrowed. They slid away, drifted to the woods around them with a nonchalance of someone admiring the view, someone who didn’t have a Colt aimed at their head. 

“Have you ever been out this far before?”

Even Cora blinked at the question. But James was still speaking.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Quiet. Empty.”

“Are you crazy?”

James’s features softened into an actual smile. He chuckled.

“Sometimes, yes.”

He was going to get himself shot. Cora could feel it.

“Dad—”

“Quiet, sweetheart.” The command was given by James without a single glance in her direction. “This’ll be over in a minute.”

Giovanni nodded slowly. “Yes, it will be, because I’m going to kill you and hang your dead body from Main Street as a warning to all other fuckheads who think they can come near my family.”

“I have eight men in the woods,” James interrupted evenly. “You have six, plus your man there,” he nodded in Bruno’s direction. “And Ms. Donavon, who I’m assuming would take your side.”

“Damn straight,” Deidra muttered.

“That gives us both an even eight,” James continued. “Not including you and me. With fire power like that, Cora and your wife wouldn’t make it to safety fast enough. No one would. Now, I’ve promised Cora that I wouldn’t hurt you. I would really appreciate your help keeping that promise.”

Cora’s chest muscles tightened, a faint flutter that didn’t last as James pressed on.

“Here’s how this is going to go, you’ve seen your daughter. You’ve seen she’s unharmed. You’re going to invite me to dinner, just the four of us, where we are going to discuss Cora’s continued survival and our future together.”

“You have some nerve—”

“What I have, Mr. De Marco, is full control over this situation,” James cut in sharply. Cold steel glinted in his eyes, a warning as frigid and brittle as an arctic squall. It lashed over the crowd with serrated tips. “There isn’t a move you can make that I haven’t already utilized, analyzed, and countered. We will have dinner and you will listen to what I have to say or this will be the very last time you see your daughter.”

Cora shuddered.

No one noticed.

“Dinner sounds nice,” Elise cut in, speaking up for the first time. “I can call Jerome and let him know there will be one more—”

“No.” While dismissive, James’s tone was gentler when addressing her mother. “I’ve taken it upon myself to book us a table at Raj.” His gaze slanted sideways towards Cora. “Cora’s favorites.”

How he knew that was beyond her. But then again, he seemed to know everything there was to know about her. She wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about that, especially considering she knew next to nothing about him.

“Very well.” Giovanni returned the gun to its place inside his coat. “You can follow us there.”

“Cora will be riding with me,” said James smoothly, before her father could usher them to the car.

“Absolutely not!”

James met Giovanni’s furious glower with a patient one of his own, never wavering, never so much as batting an eyelash.

“My wife will be riding with me,” he repeated slower, pronouncing each word carefully.

For a full, tense moment, no one moved. It seemed to take that long for the full impact of his announcement to set in; Cora wasn’t sure she’d ever seen her parent’s look so stunned.

“That’s one of those things we can discuss over dinner.” James stated, putting his palm out towards Cora. “Come.”

She hesitated for just a second, a second where she debated whether or not to try and explain the situation.  But her hand had already slipped itself into the devil’s palm without her consent.

No one moved to stop them as James turned and started for the car. Nicholas waited until they’d crossed ten steps before pivoting on his heels and following. The others remained where they were, their confusion and concern a heavy blanket smothering the chill.

At the car, James opened the passenger’s side door for her and let her slide in. He closed it behind her and turned to his first mate. They exchanged words Cora couldn’t hear, but from the look of outrage on Nicholas’s face, whatever it was, hadn’t been part of the plan.

“What is it?” she asked when only James got in behind the wheel.

“Nothing.” He slammed his door closed. “Seatbelt.”

Cora reached for the safety harness and dragged it over her lap.

“Where’s Nicholas going?”

The man was jogging down the slight incline and trudging into the woods.

“He’s going to catch a ride back to the ship with the other men.”

She wanted to ask what other men. She couldn’t see any. But he’d already stuffed the key into the ignition and was starting the car.

Cora got one final glimpse of her parents climbing into the back of the Lincoln before they were doing a U-turn in the middle of the road and turning back towards the city.

“I wish you’d let me explain,” she murmured, slumping in her seat. “I don’t like leaving them like that. I could have eased them into it.”

“I don’t need to ease them into anything.” He shot his rearview mirror a quick glance. “They don’t deserve anything from me, especially not your father. The only reason you’re here at all is because I allowed it. I could have met with your father alone and he would never have seen you. But I allowed it for you.”

Cora peered at his side profile, the deep angles of his beautiful face, the firm set of his mouth, the hard furrow of his brows. She couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for him to be that close to the man he thought hurt his sister. He was certainly hiding it well, even if his anger was suffocating the air in the car.

“Thank you,” she whispered, wanting to reach out and touch the tension in his shoulders, but knowing it wouldn’t be welcomed.

He flicked her with a quick peek from the corner of his eye. “Don’t thank me. Do not mistake my indulging you for weakness, or kindness, Cora. These are debts that you will be paying back in whatever manner I wish.”

She nodded, having already accepted that. “I know, but it doesn’t mean I can’t thank you.”

He said nothing for a long stretch of time. Trees and road blurred past them in a rush, carrying them further and further away from her family. It took all her restraint not to look back, knowing she couldn’t handle not seeing them in the rear window.

“Are we really going to have dinner at Raj?” she asked after a moment of silence.

“Yes.”

“I like Raj,” she murmured, needing to fill the silence he seemed to relish in.

“I know.”

Why was it so hard to get him to talk? Why couldn’t he just say something? His sullen existence was painful to endure.

“You’re not going to goad my father into shooting you again, are you?”

“I didn’t goad him this time. He drew the gun.”

“Yes, but you didn’t have to urge him to shoot you.” Her voice rose with every word as the anxiety of that moment returned to hit her. “What if he had? What if he’d shot you in the face? You can’t come back from that.”

“Would you have really cared?”

Cora blinked. “Of course I would have. I may not like you, but it doesn’t mean I want you dead.”

He hummed quietly. “That is almost sweet.”

Cora rolled her eyes. “You seem to have this death wish—”

“It’s not a wish,” he cut in. “It’s a fact of life in my world. Do you honestly think that was the first time I’ve been threatened with a gun?”

No. She supposed it wouldn’t be.

“But telling him to shoot you...”

“I knew he wouldn’t.”

“No, you didn’t!” she snapped. “You couldn’t possibly. He’s my father and even I was terrified...” she broke off to compose herself and lower the high shrill in her voice. “You’re not allowed to be shot in front of me.”

His head turned briefly, one eyebrow raised. “Get shot, but not in front of you. Is that the new agreement?”

“Well, I don’t want you to get shot at all, but since you seem so hell bent on it.” She blew out a lungful of air and turned towards the window. “Just don’t be stupid like that again in front of me.”

“Speaking of stupid, if you ever put yourself between me and a gun again, I will put you over my knee and spank you until you can’t walk for a week, do you understand?”

Cora pursed her lips when her ass cheeks actually tingled at the threat. “Well, you don’t get guns pointed at you while I’m around and I won’t get in the way.”

He barked a steely laugh. “No, this isn’t a negotiation. Stay the hell out of the path of all bullets meant for me. I won’t tell you again.”

There was no arguing with him. He’d made up his mind.

“Fine.”