Page 39 of Wed to the Devil

“Something for motion sickness.”

She lifts her hand as if to scoop up the pills, but hesitates. “Is it safe for the baby?”

My lips twitch. “Yes. I checked the last time we were on the yacht. It is perfectly safe.”

She swallows, eyeing the pills for a moment longer. Then she takes a sip of the water and swallows the pills.

I take a seat beside her on the bed, watching her expression carefully. She catches my examination and arches a brow.

“What are you expecting me to do?”

Shrugging a shoulder, I lean closer and brush a fiery lock of her hair away from her face. A tiny frown creases her brow as she watches me as closely. Like I’m a predator, and if she turns her back, I might pounce at any second.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

Her face shows her confusion. “Like what?”

“Like I’m a lion and you’re the human who has made the mistake of thinking you can tame me. I’m not going to bite, Talia.”

She starts to say something, a quick retort. But then her body goes rigid. She lies down and closes her eyes. I notice that she still looks withdrawn and pale as a ghost.

Her lips are clamped together, her expression tense. I brush another lock of her hair away from her face and wait.

After several minutes, the bout of nausea passes. Talia opens her eyes, exhaling.

“At least I didn’t throw up that time,” she grouses.

“No.”

Her lips thin. “Why are you still here? I thought you would have returned to captaining the ship by now.”

All she gets from me in exchange for her remark is a vague shoulder shrug. “And yet, here I am.”

She blinks, stifling a yawn. “Where are we going?”

“The destination is not the point. We are just sailing for the sake of the journey. And I know that we’ll be left alone here. There are definitely no vagrants here, sharpening their knives and waiting for people that look like us to cross their paths.”

“Vagrants.” She releases a soft snort. “No one is targetingme. People that look like you, maybe.”

I narrow my eyes and cross my arms, leaning back. “I don’t think so, darling girl. You’re my wife now. You wear my ring. You dress like you have money. You blend in with the upper class so well that the boundaries disappear completely.”

Talia’s eyebrows rise. She runs her hand over the hair on the pillow beside her head. “You think so?”

I nod.

She yawns. “That’s good, coming from you. You’re a snob.”

“I’m discerning,” I fire back. “And you agreed to marry me over my twin. So who between us is the pickiest one?”

She blinks several times, her eyelids growing heavy. “Not sure.”

I lean over, pulling the comforter up around her body. Talia’s eyes flutter open and her lips curve into a smile. She turns over on her side, her hand seeking out mine on top of the covers.

“I’m tired,” she admits.

“Just relax.” I begin to rub slow circles into her back using my free hand. “I’ll take a sleeping wife over a sick wife any damn day.”

She closes her eyes, gripping my hand. I start to move away, but she clutches my hand harder and whines.