Whispered Music (London Fairy Tales #2)(14)

With a growl, he turned on his heel and marched back into the captain's quarters. “Get up!”

Isabelle’s eyes fluttered open, a look of confusion passing over her features.

“I said get up!” Dominique yelled. “Make haste, we arrive within the hour and still have a grueling journey ahead of us.”

Isabelle nodded solemnly and pulled the sheet tighter around her body.

Must she be such a prude? After all, hadn’t his hands spent the better part of the night running up and down her curves? Thirsty for her touch, hungry for her lips, he pulled his gaze away. Such torture to constantly want something he could not have. His hands clenched at his sides. “I’ll await you on deck. It matters not if your hair is arranged, nor if your dress is beautiful. Wear something comfortable and be quick about it.”

With that he slammed the door behind him, waiting a good five minutes before he was able to speak to anyone without wanting to bark or rip their heads off. Just being in the same room with his wife was becoming difficult. The sooner they got to his castle, the better, for at least in the castle he could lock her off in her own wing while he spent the remainder of his days writing music and ignoring the hammering of his heart and pounding of blood whenever the woman was in his presence.

****

Isabelle kept her eyes focused on the door that Dominique had just escaped through. What the devil was wrong with him? His eyes held anger, pain, but most surprising was guilt.

Perhaps he was having second thoughts about treating her like a common prostitute. Though, to be fair he didn’t take advantage of his owning of her the night previous, though she hated herself for wanting him to.

Slowly, she moved out of bed and dressed for the day. Whatever horrors this morn held for her, it could not be worse than what she had already experienced at the man's hands.

The sun shone brightly, reflecting off the dark blue ocean. Isabelle inhaled the salty scent of the water. The ship moaned and creaked as it moved toward the docks ahead. Men scurried about trying to ready the ship for arrival. Dominique was nowhere to be seen. Isabelle fought the edge of disappointment creeping around her heart. Why did she care where her husband was? He had made it perfectly clear that they were to have the type of marriage that the ton boasted of. An arrangement where he offered his protection and nothing else save a roof over her head, a cold bed, and no love.

She shivered, remembering the way his wicked hands smoothly caressed her body. If only he would have taken off his gloves; then again it seemed even his gloves, his clothes, his hair, everything he wore was as a shield. A cage surrounded his heart and his black soul. And she wondered if he had ever let anyone in.

“Shall we stop at Madame Buchens’ house?” a hoarse male voice asked. Isabelle walked around the corner of the ship and hid behind some boxes. Dominique stood with a few men, a rare smile plastered across his face.

She had to fight to keep from gasping in outrage. Visit a house of ill repute? “We will not have time,” Dominique answered. “Though it is a pity, wouldn’t you agree, lads?”

They chuckled in unison. An elderly sailor spoke up. “The pity is that you won’t allow us to visit the Madame without you, sire. Would be kind of ya to let us have our pick of the best whores rather than take them all fer yerself!”

The sailor smiled, revealing missing teeth, and nudged his friend next to him. “After all, a night with the great prince is a prize indeed. Last time, my girl wouldn’t stop talkin’ about him and the way he brings pleasure to a woman.”

Dominique rolled his eyes and looked away as the rest of the sailors chuckled amongst themselves. “Fine then, you gents may stay an extra night before bringing in the cargo, but only one night.”

“And will ya be joining us, sire?” the same sailor asked.

“I have a wife now.” Dominique answered, though he seemed to be irritated with having to say it. “Though I’m loath to admit it.” He chuckled and threw a pouch of money to the men. “Enjoy yourselves, since you know that I cannot.”

Blind rage poured through Isabelle. She had thought him sensitive last night, not wanting to take the one thing she had. Instead it was as if he never wanted her in the first place. Could she truly not bring him pleasure? Because of her innocence and looks? He hadn’t said as much, but she figured he found her quite unappealing to leave her alone the night previous. Well, she wasn’t one to allow everyone to suffer, and if this would put him in a more amiable mood, why not? Perhaps she could use this weakness of his as a way to coerce him into letting her return to her family, or better yet, annul the marriage!

With a huff, she walked out of hiding and into the group of men. Dominique’s features hardened, the sailors around her hushed. “Why husband, if you have such a relentless appetite, why not stay with the men? After all, it seems the whores wait for your arrival with bated breath, we wouldn’t want any of them dying of asphyxiation.”

Dominique’s cold eyes pierced through her. “Excuse us, lads, my wife is in need of being taught a lesson about spying.”

The sailors averted their gazes and scattered about as Dominique took purposeful steps toward Isabelle. Frightened, she stepped back only to come into contact with a flat, hard surface against her backside. Stuck, she looked down instead of into the rage-filled eyes of the beast.

“Look at me,” he ordered.