Page 34 of The Duke With the Dragon Tattoo

“I did.” The Rook didn’t look at her. “She is mine.”

“That’s it then. By the powers vested in me by, well,you… I pronounce you pirate captain and wife. Felicitations to you both. You may kiss the bride.”

“You maynotkiss me!” Lorelai protested, though she belatedly noted he made no move to do so. “And I amnotyour bride.” Whirling on Moncrieff, she demanded, “Aren’t you going to ask me ifItakehim? Because I categorically do not.”

Moncrieff laughed as though she’d said somethinghilarious. “The entire world has tried to take the captain, woman, what makes you think you can?”

“This is a ship, where my word is law,” the Rook reminded her. “You are not required to say ‘I do,’ only to do as I say.”

“But—but this wedding isn’t legitimate,” she sputtered. “No country on earth would acknowledge it. You simply cannot marry a woman against her will!”

One dark brow climbed toward his hairline. “Are you saying it was yourwillto wed Sylvester Gooch?”

“Well, of course not, but—”

“Then your argument is null.”

A flash of lightning gilded Moncrieff’s queue with threads of bronze as he nodded sagely. “Women have been marrying against their will for untold centuries. In fact, marriage is usually theworstthing to happen to a woman in one way or another, and yet so many insist on spending their days pursuing a husband like a bloodhound does an escaped convict. Why do you suppose that is?”

“Moncrieff,” the Rook clipped.

“Yes, Captain.”

“Go get drunk. That’s an order.”

“Withpleasure.” He gave them both a halfhearted, two-fingered salute and did an about-face.

They all silently awaited the thunder to finish as though it were a loud and impertinent guest.

“And take Countess Southbourne to her quarters,” the Rook amended.

“Lorelai?” Veronica’s voice wavered, as Moncrieff’s body blocked the women’s access to each other.

“I could getherdrunk,” he offered.

“Don’t you dare touch me.Oof!” Veronica lunged away from the man with such violence, she unwittingly threw herself on the bed.

“Come without a fuss and I won’t have cause to.”

Rolling to the side of the bed, Veronica placed the post between her and the towering pirate. “I won’t leave you alone, Lorelai. Not with him.”

“We couldbothstay,” Moncrieff suggested with a lascivious waggle of his brows. “Why should the bride be the only one to bed a pirate tonight? If you should like to participate in what comes next…”

Veronica blanched.

“Best put her in a cabin with a small porthole,” the Rook suggested with bland indifference. “We wouldn’t want her doing anything… irrational. She’s more valuable to me alive.”

In one deft move, Moncrieff had Veronica’s arms anchored to her sides as he picked up the struggling countess as though she were as limp as a sack of grain. “I know just the one,” he said after blowing the peacock feather of her headdress away from his mouth with a distasteful grimace.

“Lorelai!” The helpless terror in Veronica’s voice called her to action, and Lorelai lunged toward her reaching hand. An iron grip on her shoulder held her back.

Turning to the Rook, she clutched his shirt, searching his face for some semblance of humanity. “Please let her go. She’ll keep your identity secret if I ask her to, I know she will. If it’s me you’re after, you don’t need her.”

Her hopes fell as she found him as cold and remote as ever.

“What’s that charming saying about secrets? Two can keep them if one is dead.”

Moncrieff shut the door behind them with an ominous sound; Veronica’s protestations still tugged at Lorelai’s heart.