Page 15 of Wed to the Devil

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.

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