Page 12 of Her Wedding Night

I open my mouth to scream for help, but a big, hard hand clamps over my lips before a sound can escape.

CHAPTER 8

GABRIEL

I yank Lucy against my chest, pinning her between my body and my arm. Her small breasts mash against my forearm, soft and warm, and the way I’ve got her up against me, my cock is less than an inch from finding its way between her ass cheeks.

Jesus Christ, she feels good. Smells good, too. I inhale a life-giving lungful as she fights my tight hold, but she’s just a little slip of a thing and I’m a trained special warfare operator freshly fuelled by the scent of wildflowers and honey.

I knew she’d smell like honey. My cock thickens even further, straining at the limits of my pants now. Fuck. Fuck.

“Shhh,” I whisper in her ear. “I won’t hurt you.”

She kicks me in the kneecap.

I grin through the deserved pain. “Love your energy, you vicious little bunny, but I need you to calm down. I’m going to take my hand away from your mouth, and you’re not going to scream, okay?”

I can feel her pulse going a mile a minute. She doesn’t nod, but when I slide my fingers off her soft lips, she’s quiet.

Maybe she correctly decided that the morons one deck below wouldn’t be able to help her, anyway.

I let her go completely and step back.

She whirls around and shoves her hands at my chest. “Who the fuck are you?”

“It doesn’t matter. We don’t have a lot of time. Those boys…they aren’t stable. I will keep you safe, but I don’t want to hurt them if I don’t have to. So you should know?—”

“Did you kill him?” She’s pointing at the captain.

I bend over and check his pulse. “Nope.” Then I drag him across the bridge and kick open his cabin door, propping him against it. “He’s just going to sleep for a bit.”

“What did you give him?”

“GHB, probably.”

“Probably?” She looks horrified. I get an overwhelming craving to kiss her. Just stop what I’m fucking doing, fuck everything that’s happening around us, and kiss her innocent little face. Her good, sweet mouth, which would never think of casually using a central nervous system depressant to gain the upper hand in a situation.

Which is too bad, because I need her to do exactly that.

I show her the vial. “I found it in one of the cabins below. Don’t drink anything anyone gives you down there.”

She rolls her eyes at me. “I know better than that.”

I raise an eyebrow.

She makes a face. “I know better than to get on this boat, too. Is that what you want to say, you whacko? Or do you have more dad advice for me before you get back to attempted murder?”

I gape at her.

She gasps and claps her hand over her mouth. “Nevermind,” she mumbles from behind her fingers. “I didn’t mean that.”

Slowly, I lean back against the captain’s chair and cross my arms over my chest. “Which part didn’t you mean?”

Her eyes go wide and she lets out an audible whimper.

“Lucy,” I say softly. “It’s okay. I’m not a threat to you. Or anyone else on this boat, unless they hurt you.”

She drops her hand and looks at the captain. “He didn’t hurt me,” she whispers, swivelling back to glare at me. “And you know my name.”

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