James sat in a high wingback chair, lustfully watching his wife sleep. She was so lovely, so angelic just sleeping in a curled postion, shivering in the cold of the ship. He stood up then, briskly walking over to her quaking form. James grabbed the covers from underneath her, covering the voluptuous body of her's which made Jame's suddenly regret hding her form from him. But he knew that it was selfish to make her freeze while he eyed her seductive curves. She murmured somewhat in her sleep and James leaned in closer to hear what she was dreaming.

"Don't please…don't hurt him Beckett…" She fretfully whispered.

James didn't want to hear any more of what she was dreaming, but her voice keep barging into his head.

She shifted somewhat, her face squinting in pain. "James…."

Her voice kept ringing in his ears as he continued to watch her sleep. He couldn't help but watch her, suddenly thinking of Miss. Swann. Why was Brenna so jealous for someone he didn't love? But, in James's heart he did love her. She had been everything to him for so long. He had known Miss. Swann since her childhood and had watched her grow into a beautiful woman. But never had he fallen so fast for someone like Brenna. Her quick wit and beauty stirred his blood every time he looked at her. But, Brenna was still a stranger to him. He had rarely spent any time with Brenna to watch her morph into the extravagant young women all the men wanted to have at their sides.

He had no idea what he wanted anymore. He wanted to have Brenna, to keep her safe from the lingering presence of Lord Beckett, to give her happiness…and even children. But Miss. Swann had been his first love, though she never loved him. Miss. Swann had all the qualities Brenna had, yet was subtle in her rebellious ways. Brenna would strike out against him with full wrath and rage that she was never taught to do.

He laughed silently to himself, enjoying her soft murmurings of his name. She may have hated him while awake, but when she slept she was dreaming about him. James took pride that his wife dreamt about him, which also made him sad. He wished she would just wake up and sit across his lap, surrendering herself to him without any remembrance of her hatred.

James very gently bent back down to her and brushed aside a stray dark curl that lay across her face. He bent down and covered her mouth with his, hoping that she would arouse and grasp onto him, whispering sweet nothings in his ear. But instead of enclosing him in her arms, she shifted her body to face the other side, a look of worry on her dreaming face.

The next day I awoke to see James's sleeping figure in a chair. His uniform was still in tact, his white wig askew on his head. I reluctantly left the bed and swayed over to him, drunk with sleep. I fixed his wig like a dutiful wife and left the office. I rolled onto the deck to see other men in uniforms move about, glancing at me in men's clothes that molded perfectly to my slim body.

I strolled out to the railing and placed my chin in my hand, watching the water pass beneath us. I stifled a yawn, stretching slightly. I heard James open the door suddenly, knowing he was probably worried about where I was. He spotted me instantly, and walked over to me.

"Even in men's clothes, you are ravishing." He complemented me before grasping my chin, making me look at him.

I turned my chin up higher and moved away from him, anger burning in my blood. What makes him think he can almost beat me, plead with me, and then compliment me like this? It was ridiculous and insane to say the least.

"I'm sorry for last night…" He trailed off, not wanting to mention about almost spanking me.

I sighed, moving off into a distance. I said nothing to him, letting him feel the awkward silence between us.

I couldn't bear not talking after a few moments, so I spoke first. "You're a stranger to me James…" I whispered hoarsely, unable to control the tears that trickled down. Bullocks! I was crying again over him…

"As much as I hate to say it, you're a stranger to me as well." He whispered back, watching me intently as my hair whipped everywhere.

"Then why are we married?" I asked him, the tears dropping onto my hair, making it wet.

He sighed and fixed his eyes onto the water, searching for an answer. "Because, my love," he wrapped his arm around my waist, drawing me to him, "we were made for each other. I am your protector and you are my angel."

He caressed my stomach, feeling its flat appeal below the cloth. Remembering that there were other men aboard eagerly watching us, I moved from his grip. I didn't look back at him, knowing there would be hurt that I left his side chiseled on his handsome features. Before I knew it, I had fallen asleep on the bed again, feeling an aching in my heart I couldn't get rid of.