Til Debt Do Us Part (Married At Midnight #4)

Chapter 5

Five

Talia

W hen I climb down from the helicopter, holding a hand up to shade my eyes, I stare out at a busy marina. Snow is falling on the ground all around me and I look around at the mass of the ships and the walkways that lead between them. “Where are we?”

I look at Dare and he comes around my side, putting an arm around me as he pulls me down toward the dock before us.

“Prince Edward Island.”

I suck in a breath and look at him, my eyes wide. “We’re in Canada? How…? Don’t we need to prove our identity or something when we are crossing the border?”

I glance down at the icy water as we walk over the planks that hold us a few inches above it. He gives a cold laugh and shakes his head.

“I have people that take care of things like that. Now come on, I want to get settled on the ship.”

I start to ask another question but he glares at me, his hand tightening on my shoulder. “Not here,” he grates out. “We get on board, you can ask all the questions that your heart desires.”

Swallowing thickly, I glance at the natural beauty all around us. There are large mounds that ascend on each side of the Marina, dropping right into the water. The sea itself is placid and calm at the moment, boats that enter and exit the individual bays of the dock do so slowly and create minimal wake.

Dare grabs my hand and hauls me down the dock, heading toward the largest and tallest row of boats. There are only three ships aboard on the dockhe turns down and I look at each of them with no small amount of wonderment. Their gleaming white hulls rise out of the dark water. They don’t have masts like a smaller boat would have. Instead they’re just topped with a white navigation dash above a white plank and a huge tan wooden deck.

Dare doesn’t even seem to think about the size of the boat; he’s too busy dragging me along the dock and right up to the set of stairs leading up to the yacht. A man dressed in a crisp white uniform with white hair and skin like worn leather awaits us as Dare pulls me up the stairs.

Dare nods his head, looking at the man. “Captain Weathers.”

The older man gives him a no nonsense look and avoids making any eye contact with me. Instead, he just looks at Dare and puts his hands behind his back.

“Sir. This ship is ready for you as you requested. But I will remain on board, if you don’t mind. The weather is supposed to turn and I can smell a storm brewing.”

Dare claps the man on the shoulder. “That’s all right, Weathers. We got it.”

Captain Weathers bows his head and shuts his mouth, but I can tell that he wants to press the issue.

Dare just jerks his head toward the dock. “When have I ever needed intervention out on the sea? Trust me. We're not going very far out. I just want complete privacy.”

Captain Weathers slides a glance at me. But he doesn’t say anything further. Instead, he just bows his head one more time and then heads down the stairs. Dare turns to me, cocking a brow.

“Can I trust you to find your way to the main state room downstairs? I’ve had an assistant furnish the state room with a new set of weather appropriate clothing for both of us. I suggest that you go change out of that get up.” He gives my yoga pants and sweatshirt a disdainful look. “You’re the wife of a billionaire, not a fucking fitness instructor.”

I curl my tongue around my front teeth and shoot him a glare. But the idea of being alone for even a few minutes is appealing enough for me to agree.

“How do I get downstairs?” I ask. Glancing around, I try to see the staircase. Dare points to the back of the boat. “Head that way. You can’t miss it. I will get us out on the ocean.”

He turns away, pressing a hidden button near the stairs to draw them up and seal the hull. I roll my eyes and move toward the back of the boat, feeling awkward as I go. Though this ship is large, it is not so big as to keep me from feeling the water rolling beneath the boat. The tide shifts the boat every minute or so and I can feel it deep in my bones.

As I scuttle around the long white wall that makes up the middle deck of the ship, I look out over the water. From here, you can’t see any land or even the mountains. But the ocean itself is an endless blank slate with a ripple running through it like an icy shudder here and there.

When I reach the back of the boat, I turn and see a white set of stairs heading up to the upper deck and beside it, a polished wood set of stairs leads below deck. Clutching at the matching wooden banister, I make my way down, leading heavily on the wall for support. I still feel the water moving somewhere under my feet and it unnerves me. It’s odd to look around at the walnut finish on everything and yet feel that my feet might be carried out from underneath me at any moment.

Once I get down the stairs and walk down a cramped hallway made of solid floor to ceiling wood, I start to try the wooden doors on the right. I find a living room area, a maintenance room full of pipes, two small bedrooms, and another luxurious full bathroom. The final door I try is obviously the biggest state room. I swing the door open and my eyes widen as I take in the panoramic glass paneled view of the water line. Half of my view is above and the other half is nearly pitch black, gazing straight out into the fathomless deep of the ocean.

The room itself has a full king-sized bed and two bedside tables, a dressing table, and a little nook set up with a small circular table and two wicker chairs. All of the finishes in this room are mauve and dark gray and titanium, from the lights by the bed to the titanium drawer pulls on the bedside tables. The bed is covered in a mauve satin comforter and has so many pillows that I can’t help but want to fall into it.

It only takes a minute to find the state room’s hidden closet, tucked away in the back corner. It’s stuffed full of sweaters and jeans. There is not a single strappy silk dress or a pair of Louboutin heels anywhere to be seen.

I pick out a dark gray cotton T-shirt, a heavy blue sweater, and a pair of expensive-looking jeans. I change out of my clothes and hurry into those picked out for me, adding a thick pair of gray wool socks and warm winter boots too. Everything fits perfectly and I have to wonder at the person picking out my wardrobe. They’ve never accidentally stuck the wrong size in with any of my clothes. I appreciate the work that it takes.

When I’m dressed, I head into the bathroom and do a little bit of washing up. I notice that the same face cleanser and moisturizer are here as I found in the lofts back home. Again, the person that stocked these is very good at paying attention to details.

Once I’m finally done, I head into the bedroom and sit down on the bed. I blink and look out the window. The marina is quite a ways behind us and we are steadily moving away from it, the wake of our ship bubbling and snapping behind us. It’s hard to keep my eyes up and away from staring into the darkness below the waterline, but I try my best because it seems like staring into the abyss.

The whole bedroom is warm and cozy as a glove and I lay back on the bed for a minute, just letting myself rest for a second. Beneath me, the waves roll, constantly undulating softly. My eyes shut briefly, or at least they think they do.

But when I open them again, it’s because I hear a sound that pulls me from my light slumber. I push up off the mattress, rubbing sleep from my eyes. The view outside is dark and indicates that it is probably mid afternoon.

I also notice that we are not moving at all anymore. I stand up and go over to the panoramic window, searching for land. From this point of view, I can see nothing but this water.

Now that we are no longer in the marina, wind ripples across the ocean, whipping waves in its wake. I stare at the waves and try not to feel seasick when the ripples I can feel beneath my feet do not match up with the waves I am looking at currently.

“Are you going to stay down here all day?”

I whirl, not expecting to find Dare leaning against the doorway, looking me up and down. I can feel myself flushing although I don’t know exactly why.

I toss my hair, giving Dare an annoyed look. I put my hand onto my hip and shrug my shoulder.

“What is it that you want from me, Dare?”

He pushes off the doorframe and heads into the room, watching my face closely. “Isn’t that obvious?”

I give an exasperated sigh. “Apparently not.”

He starts pulling at his dress shirt, unbuttoning the top few buttons. “I want you to follow through on your promises, darling girl.”

I swallow hard and look at his hand as he unbuttons his shirt slowly, prowling around me. I’m not sure what to expect from him at this moment and I have to admit that he is making me nervous.

“And what is it that you have been promised?”

“Everything, Talia. Everything that a wife is supposed to do.”

Dare turns away from me, pulling his shirt off and dropping it on the bed. Then he pulls off his shoes and strips off his dark pants, leaving him completely naked. He doesn’t bother to hide a single thing, letting me stare at his well muscled ass and his mouthwatering abs as he stretches a little.

Then he pulls the closet open, finding a simple white T-shirt and a pair of dark jeans. He pulls the jeans on and the shirt over his head. I can’t help but notice the fact that it fits against him perfectly, practically molded to emphasize his triceps and well toned chest. My tongue darts out and I lick my lips, feeling a little guilty.

After all, I am suddenly lusting after Dare, the very man I claim to hate. I try to remind myself that despite his good looks and my attraction to him, he is the enemy. He is the very definition of a bad person. Maybe it’s the pregnancy hormones that are coursing through my body that are playing with my mind. I drop my hand to my abdomen, pursing my lips.

As I do, my stomach unexpectedly growls so loudly that Dare hears that. He finishes dressing himself and then turns around, looking me up and down.

“I take it that you’re hungry.” I shrug a shoulder but the truth is that I am famished, though the feeling seems to have come from out of nowhere.

Dare nods to the door. “Come on. We’ll go into the ship’s kitchen. There’s bound to be plenty to eat up there.”

He crosses the room and heads out, never doubting for a moment that I will follow. Unfortunately, he is truly the one in control just now. Out here, where no one can hear me scream or notice if he simply threw me overboard, I am in Dare’s sway.

I follow him around the darkened hallway and up the stairs. He heads around to a small door that is discreetly located behind the staircase to the top floor. He sweeps it open and ushers me into a surprisingly large space with a long walnut dining table and matching set of walnut benches on one side of the room. On the other side is a little galley kitchen and a bar cart. Dare points at the table.

“Sit down,” he says. I step out of the cold and close the door, noticing that there is a great quantity of natural light piercingthrough several cleverly hidden skylights. I sit down at the table, realizing just then that I am a little shaky. I don’t know if it’s from hunger or if it has something to do with the sea itself. But at this moment, I am definitely glad to be seated.

Twin waves of nausea and hunger hit me, one after another. I suck in a deep breath and don’t even know what to do about the intense wave of nausea I feel.

Dare jostles some jars around and then appears before me, setting a tray of fresh made bread, butter, thick slabs of cold roast beef, mini-gherkins, and several other things all lined up in little bowls. He puts my slice of bread on a tiny plate and offers me a butter knife. Then he goes back to the bar cart, getting two cans of soda. He holds them up as I smell the bread, my mouth watering.

“You want ginger ale?”

To my surprise, I answer, “Yeah. That would actually be perfect.”

He returns with two cans of ice cold ginger ale and sets them on the table before taking a seat across from me. He looks at my untouched food with some puzzlement.

“Well? Yes. What are you waiting for?”

I press my lips together and repress any kind of reaction. Instead, I smear a bit of butter on my bread and then add a few of the gherkins to my plate. Dare pops the top on my ginger ale and pushes it towards me as I take a bite of the bread.

I close my eyes, unable to stifle the chorus of groans. The bread is very good, still warm from the oven. When I open my eyes again, I find Dare looking at me with a smirk.

“Is it good?”

I roll my eyes. “I haven’t eaten all day. I don’t think I realized that I was even hungry until about four minutes ago.”

He reaches across the table and pushes the soda can closer to me. “Drink some of this. My mom used to get really seasick and she always swore by this brand.”

I pick up the can, noting that it is an old brand, the label in French instead of the English I was expecting. I bring it to my mouth and take a sip, letting the sweet fizz dissipate before taking a swallow. For a minute, I eat in silence, polishing off the bread and drinking half of the Canada ginger ale. I don’t know what it is, whether it’s just some combination of the food and drink or whether his mom had it right, but I feel my nausea disappear with a puff of smoke.

Dare eats his own piece of bread with a slice of roast beef, watching me all the while.

“So? Was my mom right?”

I shrug and make a face. “Maybe. We’ll see.”

He looks down, busying himself with another slice. While he’s piling butter and what looks like strawberry jam on one end, he asks his question casually. “What the hell is your deal? Why would you run away like that?”

I put my hands on the table, eyeing another slice of bread. “What exactly are you asking? Are you trying to deny that you tricked me and trapped me into this marriage? Or do you just want to know how I found out about it?”

He gives me a sharp look. “I would love to know your source.”

My mouth lifts a little at the corners. “Of course you would. You want to know who ratted you out so you can keep them from telling your secrets in the future. Have I got that correct?”

He sets his knife down a little too hard and glares at me. “I don’t need the sanctimonious bullshit. I want to know who is talking out of school, though.”

I smirk at him and then pull my cell phone out of my back pocket. I fire off a text to let Olivia know that I am okay, then start to turn my phone off. But I power it back on and find the messages. I hand my phone over to Dare, looking like the cat that ate the fucking canary.

I study his face while he reads the text. He’s a much better poker player than I am because he doesn’t flinch or look worried in any way. He just reads the text and then tosses my phone on the table.

“Well?”

“The number is anonymous. It could be anyone. But I have good money on my twin brother. Sounds like him.”

I drag the phone back across the table and put it in my pocket. “I don’t think you can guess that from a couple lines of text.”

He shrugs. “This is actually good. Burn is already working to pry us apart. It means he is worried about the outcome of the inheritance race.”

He shoves another piece of strawberry jam covered bread in his mouth and brushes his hands off.

“Burn isn’t responsible for your actions. He didn’t make you hire someone to scare my Aunt Minnie half to death or come into the restaurant and annoy me. That was you. You did that. I don’t really care about the rest.”

He rolls his eyes. “That’s not really the point.”

“No? What about that whole thing about how we were going to tell each other the truth about everything? Was that a lie too?”

His lips twitch and his eyes dance with something dark and wicked. “You’re only allowed the truth when it’s convenient for me. The sooner you learn that, the better it is for you.”

I pull my arms across my chest, narrowing my eyes on his face. He looks me up and down and chuckles.

“I can’t trust you. I don’t know how I’m supposed to have a child with you when I have to worry that you will do something horrible to me.”

He shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t see what the big deal is. Trust me or don’t. You’re still married to me. You’re still my wife. I’m still going to be a father, whether you like it or not.”

My lips thin. I can’t figure out how to explain to him that there should be trust between us. He makes me so angry when he orders me around and treats me like a little kid asking for special treatment.

Dare spears his hand and stabs the table with one finger. “You seem to be forgetting what our agreement is. This is a marriage of convenience. You are making things extremely messy with your emotions. I’m telling you right now, it’s easier if you just try not to feel as much about anything. I’ve been stuffing my emotions down for many years and I must say that it has given me excellent results.”

“How can you enjoy anything if nothing feels that good to you?” I demand.

My answer seems to catch Dare by surprise and he furrows his brow. “What do you mean? Don’t I seem like I am having a good time?”

I make a noise of aggravation and bang the table with my fists. “This is another problem that we haven’t even talked about. I want more than some petty, shallow relationship. Don’t you want that? Don’t you need someone that you can confide in and rely on? I know I do.”

Dare stands up and takes a swig out of his can of soda. For a second, I think that he isn’t going to answer me. He lifts the tray with all the food from the table and turns toward the galley kitchen. To my surprise, he waits until he is a few steps away and not facing me before he answers my question.

“It’s not essential, no. I learned years ago that if you trust nobody, you won’t ever be disappointed. Maybe you should start thinking about doing the same.”

Then he throws down the tray with a clatter, turning and stalking out of the kitchen. I’m left with his words bouncing around in my head. Trust no one. Life will be less disappointing.

I don’t know if I should feel sorry for him or if his words are more accurate than I could possibly know.