OK off on a different tangent for me…as usual, don't own them even though I love to play with them, so please pardon my humble attempts at trying to bring them more to life.

This will be another long – ongoing project, so for those who are enduring my other long and drawn out projects, updates will come as they can. Another dream induced idea – Gods Bless Morpheus.

This is TOTALLY AU, as far as I know these characters do not exist in Marvel universe, other than Logan and the rest of the Marvel crew. I am throwing canon to the wind (comic) anyway, and writing my own version of the past. Reviews are always welcome, but be aware this is completely OFF CANON, so flames about canon WILL be IGNORED.

Chapter 2

Logan leaned against the balustrade, cigar smoke circling his head. He looked down at the girl next to him, her pale face and white lips testament to her lack of sea legs.

"Any better?"

"Yes – I don't feel like I am going to die." She tried to laugh.

"You should go back below – get some rest." He said softly. She gave him a wan half smile and turned to walk below. One of the sailors let out a crude whistle, and Logan glared at the man, who threw his hands up and looked away. Most of the crew were good natured, but things had been getting ugly since the sea sickness had given way, and she was spending more time on deck.

"You know, you are either going to have to make a claim – or fight the men." Daniel said as he walked up.

"She's just a kid."

"Logan, she's a woman, everyone on this ship sees it but you."

"Then you all need your eyes checked."

"Logan – you are going to have to accept that she isn't a child anymore."

"Like hell."

"Why are you doing this? I thought you were going west to your cabin, get some trapping in. Peace and quiet – you said." Daniel leaned on his arms next to Logan, both men looking out to sea.

"I was. I went to check on Charlie Hawkins and landed in this mess."

"Charlie Hawkins…that's the Hawkins girl?"

"Yeah. What of it?"

"Bad mess, that."

"What do you know about it?"

"Mostly what I heard at the pub – the girl insulted Abbott and his whore, so Abbott went after the girl and her father, bad business. I had heard he had some claim over the girl – was taking bids for – well you know."

"Sounds about right, least what they told me. Any idea what she said that pissed him off so badly."

"Well, from what I heard, he took his whore to get some dresses made, your girl was there, the whore made some kind of comment about 'There's the Hawkins girl, if she has any claim to the name, since her mother didn't know who her father was.' – your girl there, she said 'I suppose you would understand that, I don't think any of your children know who their fathers are.' That made Abbott laugh, and he commented that a woman like that was worth the taming, and your girl said 'I wouldn't look at you, much less marry you, John Abbott, if you were the last breathing man on this God forsaken earth.' Well you can figure how Abbott took that. Challenging him is never a good idea.

"Damn – SHIT! That's what started this whole mess." Logan gripped the balustrade.

"Yep – wounded pride all the way around."

"Damn – and I got mixed up in it now – if it weren't for Martha – I would just drop the girl in London and be done."

"Martha? Her mother?"

"Yea…I met her when Mel was just a baby. I'd lost some land to Charlie in a poker game, and offered to loan him the money to start a lumber business. We went partner on it. Made good money, and Martha treated me like a brother – a part of the family. I have watched that girl grow up. I was shocked as hell to see her in long dresses. Anyway – for Martha's memory I'll do this. Charlie has burned his bridges with me…what fucking coward lets his child create this much havoc."

"That's a question I had about the whole mess. My daughter would have been apologizing, the same afternoon – after I tanned her hide."

"I'm goin' below, check on the girl…"

"Girl my eye…." He heard Daniel mutter as he walked to the bulkhead to below decks.

He knocked on the door to her cabin.

"Who is it?" She said, sharply.

"Logan."

"Come in." She said. He opened the door. She was standing at the small table built into the ship's bulkhead, her blouse open, a cool rag pressed to her chest.

"Still sick?" He said as he quickly closed the door. He didn't want any of the sailors to see her in this state of undress.

"Yes. I am sorry, again. I am not a very good sailor."

"Never said you had to be, Kid." He smiled as she shyly buttoned her blouse.

"I think I will lie down, the ship won't stop lurching." She moaned her face still pale.

She stretched out on the bunk and he fastened the keeper net. "Try ta get some sleep, Melbell."

"Logan, I am so sorry about all of this."

"It's done…it's in the past. We just have to go forward. Get some sleep." He pulled the door closed quietly behind him and went back out on deck. He leaned on the bulwark, looking out to sea, watching the blazing sun as it slipped beneath the waves.

"How's your girl?" Daniel asked.

"Not a sailor." He laughed.

"So she is your girl?" He just glared at the ship's master – and then nodded.

"She's my girl – GIRL!"

"As long as I can let the men know she's yours…we won't have any problems. Besides, we have good winds to our backs and should make Portsmouth in another week or so. I am taking a carriage run to London, with men and will escort you and the girl that far. I am meeting Miller, can set you up with passage to Bombay."

"That will be apriciated. I need to get to my bank in London before we deal with passage to Bombay, and see where her uncle's regiment is assigned."

"Are you going to take her to her uncle…or just take her?"

"I'm takin her to her uncle."

"Always did admire your honor, Logan." Daniel grinned at him in the fading dusk. "I ain't sure I'd have the willpower to resist a pretty – girl – like that."

"She's too good for a bastard like me."

"What…you are insane. Men like you are what are making this new world. Any woman would be lucky ta have ya – accident of birth or not."

"No – I don't need a wife. I have too many other complications in my life."

"Like what…you travel the world, makin business deals, you could buy ten of my ship without bleedin, you retire to that cabin of yours ta 'trap' as you say it, when ya get tired, when ya get tired of peace and quiet – I find ya on the dock, waitin ta get movin again. A woman might settle ya down."

"I don't need ta settle down…I'm only thirty-eight, I ain't ready for settlin' down. Settlin' down is for old men."

"Don't I know it…got me a wife and three kids…and I ain't settled yet." Daniel laughed. The two men relaxed and talked about the master's family until the last light was gone, and the stars sprinkled the sky. Logan finally went and gathered his hammock, and strung it in the hold, with the crew.

It was early morning when they reached Portsmouth. Melanie had finally gotten over the seasickness – and spent a part of every day on deck, under his watchful eye. The men stayed a respectful distance, more from Daniel's influence, than from any fear of Logan's wrath. The rest of the voyage had been uneventful.

He went below decks and made sure she had her bag packed. They were going to have to buy new clothes, neither one of them had packed much, and they needed to plan ahead, India would be hot, and the clothes they had were designed for the Canadian climate.

She gave him a small smile, and they headed up on deck, her bag and his saddle bags clutched in one hand. The sailors were kind as they helped Melanie down into the dingy; Daniel was already aboard, waiting on them to go ashore. The short trip in the small boat soon had Melanie green again. Logan schooled himself, not allowing any humor at her expense.

Melanie was so grateful to reach land; he allowed a small smile at her childish behavior. He still couldn't understand why Daniel couldn't see how much of a child she still was. They quickly left the docks and headed to the harbormaster's office. He wanted to send Charles a message that they had made it safely. He was surprised to find a message waiting for him.

"Came in by clipper, yesterday." The clerk at the office said.

It was from Sassy, by hand of the harbormaster.

Mr. Howlett,

I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Mr. Hawkins was killed hours after you left. Mr. Abbott sent men to follow you, rumors say he went himself. He is only a matter of days behind you. Please keep Miss. Hawkins safe. There is nothing here for her to return to, the house was burned to the ground – and Abbott claimed all of Mr. Hawkins' property as settlement for the lawsuit. I am so sorry; please tell Miss Hawkins how sorry I am.

Sassy (by the hand of Harbormaster Frederick.)

He looked at the paper in his hand. They were following, and he didn't have time – didn't even have time to get to London. He looked over at the girl sitting on a bench, waiting on him to take care of business. She was alone – her parents both dead, her only other relative an officer in the Army – in India of all place. He felt a weight settle around his neck. He had no choice; he was going to have to keep her safe. He was responsible for her now.

He walked over and sat down next to her. He tried to think of a way to break it easy, but he couldn't think of any, so he just handed her the letter.

He had to admit he was proud of her, she didn't create a scene, took it stoically. Just nodded, almost as if she expected it, and then handed him back the piece of paper.

"Now what?" She whispered.

"I have some time – let me think." He said softly.

"Logan – he's coming after me. He's not going to let me go."

"Yes he is – or he'll die."

"Logan, no more deaths – too many people have died already over this."

"I couldn't agree more. Just shut up and let me think." She leaned back on the wall of the harbormaster's office. Daniel stepped out, his berthing fees paid for the KatieMarie.

"You two ready to head to London. I need to get some business taken care of here, before I go, if you want to go ahead. I will meet you at the Two Lions."

"Actually – Dan – I need ta ask ya somethin" He stood up and stepped away from Melanie, gripping the master's arm. "Do you know a priest that won't ask a whole lot of questions?"

"Depends on the questions you don't want asked. What's going on?"

"Abbott's already on his way, Charles is dead, and all his property seized."

"Oh HELL! Does the girl know?"

"Yeah."

"So what do you need a priest for?" Logan just glared at him…"ohhhh!"

"It's just till I can get her to India, then I'll file an annulment."

"Sure…YOU are goin ta have a pretty thing like that – and NOT do anything. I've been whoring with ya."

"Mel ain't a whore – and I ain't gonna let this bastard turn her inta one."

"All I'm sayin – things that you plan temporary have a tendency to turn out permanent – and I know your way with women."

"Do you know a priest or not?"

"Yes, but Logan, to stop him from being able to sue for an annulment here, based on breach of promise, you are going to have to consummate it."

"FUCK!"

"Yep." He glared at Daniel.

"Just tell me where to find the priest and how much it will cost me for a fast wedding."

"Father Murphy – and knowing him – if you have time for an explanation, he won't charge – much."

"Where do I find this paragon?"

"St. Michaels."

"Thanks. I think." He turned and walked to where Melanie was still sitting and grabbed her arm.

"Let's go."

"Go – go where?"

"I think I have figured a way out of this – but we need to move."

"Logan, what is going on?"

"We don't have time." He pulled her outside the harbormaster's office and hailed a carriage. "St. Michaels." He told the driver.

"Logan, what is going on?" She asked again, her voice becoming shrill, and her scent full of panic.

"I can only see two ways to solve this, I can kill Abbott, or we can get married. And you said no more killing."

"MARRIED! I thought you didn't want to be married."

"I don't."

"Then why…?"

"Because you are my responsibility – and I don't shirk responsibility."

"You would do that…marry me. Why?"

"I told you."

"Because you are responsible for me?"

"Yes. I am doing this…don't expect me to like it."

"Oh." Her face was stricken.

"Kid, it ain't my life goal to be saddled with a wife and a bunch of kids. I never planned on getting married. You are messing up my plans."

"Oh." Her face paled even more.

"Mel – it isn't you. If I – wanted – ta get – ya know – married, well it would be someone like you – a lady, from a good family. Just this ain't what I wanted –and well you are still a kid and shouldn't be stuck with a man like me."

"What's wrong with you?"

"Nothin – I just never planned on getting married. I don't know the first thing about being a husband – a father – and one usually leads to the other. My parents – well – weren't models by any means, and I don't want any kid of mine living like that."

"Logan, I am not a child."

"Darlin – you are to me."

"I am NOT a child. I am able to consent to this, without parental permission, I am not a child."

"Well you ain't a woman either, but unfortunately you are going to have to be."

"What – what do you mean?"

"This can't be in name only," he said as the cab pulled up in front of the church. "Abbott can fight it, if we don't consummate it."

"Consum…" Her face paled again.

"Can we worry about that later – we need to get married first." He held his hand out to her, to help her from the carriage.

"God help us." She whispered as she stepped down. He paid the driver and asked him to wait.

The good Father was in the rectory behind the church; his housekeeper let them in and guided them to the study.

"This is rather unusual." The red faced Father said.

"We just arrived, and would like to get married as quickly as possible."

"As possible, tell me – is this concerning a child?

"No. It's a family matter."

"I am sorry, but you will have to wait for the bans."

"We can't wait. Miss Hawkins' father was murdered while we were on our way here; the men that killed him are after her. I don't have any legal right to protect her unless she is my wife."

"Well, there are a few other questions I need answered then – how old are you, young lady?

"Eighteen – last February." She said.

"Do you have a legal guardian – after your father?

"My mother's brother – but he is an officer in the British Army and stationed in India. Mr. Howlett was taking me to him when we got the news about my father."

"I see – no other living relatives you could look to?"

"No, Father."

"Well, this definitely falls under unusual circumstances. I happen to have a special license here, you will have to file it at the registrar's office in London – within ten days, or you will have to wait for the bans and another ceremony."

"We are heading straight to London."

"Good, then I suppose, with my housekeeper's assistance we can accomplish the deed."

"Thank you, Father."

He escorted them into the chapel of St. Michaels, the housekeeper following.

They stood quietly at the altar, as the Father droned the Church of England ceremony, Logan didn't pay a great deal of attention. He wanted this done, so that they could get on the road, London was one day away by coach, and he might be able to get them there quicker if he rented a horse and they rode but they would still have to stop for the night midway.

"Mr. Howlett…"

"What – oh, I do."

"Do you Melanie Marie Hawkins take James Logan Howlett to be your lawfully wedded husband …" he allowed his mind to drift again, not even hearing her quiet acceptance.

"Mr. Howlett…do you have a ring?"

"A what?"

"A ring." He looked down at her hand in his; of course they needed a ring. He reached into the fob pocket of his vest and pulled out his watch fob, there attached to the end was his mother's ring. It would have to do. He slipped it on her hand.

"With this ring I thee wed."

He let his mind drift again. Abbott's men wouldn't rest, and if Abbott himself was with them, Logan might be able to end this quickly. He needed to find out where and when they were arriving, and how much time they had.

"Mr. Howlett, you may kiss the bride."

"What, oh…" He dropped a distracted kiss on Melanie's forehead.

The Father and his housekeeper chuckled. They signed the license and he paid the Father for his time. He definitely needed to get to the bank; his cash reserve was getting low.

The cab was still waiting outside.

"Where can we catch the coach to London?" He asked the driver.

"At the Royal Arms, but the last coach left an hour ago - you will have to wait till mornin' govn'er."

"Where can I rent a horse?"

"Stables down on Market Street, but I wouldn't recommend tryin ta ride ta London, been Highwaymen between, the coach has guards ta protect it."

"Then I guess to the Royal Arms, we can get a room for the night and catch the coach in the morning." He handed Melanie up into the cab, and climbed in after her. She was pale, kept twisting her gloved hands in her lap.

"What is it, Mel?" He asked as he folded the license and slipped it into the breast pocket of his jacket.

"I…know you didn't want to do this – I don't want you to be angry with me."

"I am not angry – just have things on my mind."

"Like what?"

"Like things you don't need to worry about." He snapped

"Logan, it's my life in danger – I think I have some right to know what is going on."

"Mel – you are right. We need to get to London, file this license. That will take care of any issues with the legalities. We need to find out when and where Abbott and his men are arriving so we know how much time we have. I need to get to the bank in London – pull some more cash for the reserves. We need to make arrangements for passage to India…" She interrupted him.

"Why do we still need to go to India?"

"Your uncle is still your guardian, technically we have to obtain his blessing and permission – and there is the matter of your mother's dowry which is tied up in your grandfather's estate."

"How did you know about that?"

"Mel, your father and I were partners – business partners. I knew most of his financial business, including the mess with the dowry. That money will be yours – I won't touch it, but you need some security for yourself. Abbott took everything he could of your father's but he can't touch this, so you at least have something."

"But what about you?"

"Mel – I can take care of you, ok – and will, but I want YOU to have something of your own, so you don't HAVE to depend on me. Use it for pin money I don't care – but it should be yours."

"Oh – and you were thinking about all of this during the ceremony."

"Yes. I don't hold with all that religion crap."

"LOGAN!"

"What – I ain't gotten much out of God except heartache and pain, I doubt I will ever see his face, so why should I bother?"

She just bowed her head. "I suppose."

"Mel – we need to eat something – we will get dinner at the inn and then to bed." She blushed furiously.

"The deed has to be done."

She just nodded, looking at her hands in her lap. He knew she was nervous, all girls were. He put his hand over hers.

"It will be alright, I promise." He said softly.

She just nodded. The cab stopped and he climbed out and handed her down. He paid the cabbie and thanked him for his advice.

The proprietress of the inn just smiled when he asked for a room, and grinned even larger when he signed the register 'Mr. and Mrs. Howlett.'

"Newlyweds then – congratulations – would you like dinner in your room?"

"If you don't mind – thank you." He said, picking up Mel's bag and his saddle bags. They only had a few more days, until he could take care of getting them outfitted for India. The woman guided them up the stairs at the back of the common room and to a room on the back of the inn.

"It's away from the common rooms – more privacy." She smiled at Mel's blushing face.

"Thank you." He said as she pulled the door closed behind her. There was a bed against one wall, a table with a washbasin and pitcher of water, a chamber pot next to the bed and a table and two chairs. He set their bags down on the bed, and leaned his head against the poster.

"Mel – are you alright?"

"Yes, Logan – I'm hungry, but dinner should be up soon." She said softly.

"I can set things up – to look like we've – you know. We don't have to do this." She was so young, still so much a child.

"Logan, whatever you think is best, but I don't want Abbott – if he could prove – "

"You are right."

"I am sorry, Logan. I know you don't want to do this." That was the problem. He did. The trip from Halifax had brought a few things to his attention, including the very womanly curves her young body had developed. He had to keep telling himself she was a child, because the moment he let himself see her as anything else – that part of him, the part that kept him alive, kept his senses sharp, kept his mind alert to danger – that part of him would see her as a conquest, something to be claimed.

He pounded his head softly against the poster. She was his – his wife – to do with as he pleased – and God help them both – that part of him could want some rather debauched things. He was going to have to maintain strict control tonight, to keep from hurting her.

A knock on the door distracted him from his thoughts, and a maid brought in two bowls of stew and set them on the table. He slipped a coin into her hand, and told her not to come back for the bowls; he would set them outside the door.

"Mel, I am going to go downstairs and see about the coach, you eat – I will be right back." He closed the door behind him and started down the stairs when he heard a familiar voice. Abbott. DAMN!

He turned and went back to the room.

"Mel – you can eat later" He started unbuttoning his shirt as he threw the bolt on the door.

"What is it?"

"Abbott." Her eyes widened in panic.

"What do we do?"

"What we need to do."

"WHAT!?"

"Mel – if he finds us, after the fact and with the license already signed he can't do anything, legally except sue for breach of promise, and I'd be glad to pay the bastard to get rid of him." He tossed his jacket and shirt across one of the chairs, and sat on the edge of the bed and began unfastening his shoes.

"Logan…you want him to find us – like that?"

"Darlin' – whether he finds us in bed, or with the blood on the sheets, it has to be done, get undressed."

"Blood?"

"Darlin' hasn't anyone told you ANYTHING?" Her fingers were trembling at the buttons of her blouse.

"No." SHIT! He didn't have time to explain – hell he didn't even have time to try to make it nice for her. He dropped his shoes next to the bed and walked to her. He quickly brushed her hands away, unbuttoning her blouse and unfastening her skirt. The ties on her corset were tangled so he turned her back to him – and making sure she couldn't see, slipped a single claw from his hand and sliced the back lacings. The claw was completely out of sight when he turned her around, in nothing but her chemise and drawers.

"They got ta come off, darlin." He said. She blushed as she untied the lacing at the top of her chemise. He grabbed her face with his hands and kissed her, hard – demanding. He picked her up and carried her to the bed. The sound of footsteps drawing closer spurred him on – that and the sight of her exposed breasts – he had know if he ever allowed this his body would demand hers.

He untied the lacings of her drawers and slipped them down her legs, she tried to cover herself with her hands but he gently brushed them away, sliding his body between her legs.

"Darlin' I'm sorry." He whispered as he reached down and unfastened his trousers. He could smell her fear, hear the footsteps getting closer, smell Abbott and at least two others, and his body was already straining to be inside her. He kissed her, and pushed hard and quick, breaching her maidenhead as he swallowed her scream of pain.

"It's done – at least for legalities." He said, his body screaming to complete the act. His voice was harsh, and the salt of her tears did nothing to ease his burning need. He lay there, allowing her body to adjust as long as he could before his own need took over. His own tears joined hers, as her whimpers of pain told him just how much this was hurting her. Finally and fortuitously he reached his climax, just as a loud pounding came at the door.

"HOWLETT!" Abbott shouted. He grunted as he pulled out, and fastened his pants. He wiped her tears from her face gently.

"I'll make it up to you." He said, softly, and then "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT ABBOTT!" He shouted.

"You have my fiancé in there."

"No, I have my wife in here." He said as he opened the door. He knew exactly what Abbott was seeing, Logan with no shirt, half fastened pants, Mel disheveled on the bed, covering herself with a bloodstained coverlet. Logan had made sure the stain was quite visible. The license was safely put away, but he doubted he would need it.

"You want to take this outside." Logan said, as he leaned against the man trying to force his way into the room.

"I will kill you for this – you bastard." Abbott said. "She's mine."

"Prove it, because I can." Abbott glared at him, "And – guess what – you are my witness that the marriage was consummated. Shit for that, huh."

"You had better not ever show your face in Halifax again – Howlett, or I'll kill you and your little whore there."

Logan doubled up his fist and plowed it right into the slimy weasel's face, knocking him back into the two men behind him.

"That's my WIFE. Got it."

"Wife – whore – same thing." Abbott sneered as he shook himself off.

"Sorry you made the trip for nothing. I wish you fair winds back to Halifax." He stood there, fists clenched ready for an attack. Abbott wiped his jaw with his hands, and glared.

"We'll be seein' you…don't think for a minute you won't pay for this. You are just damned lucky you are in England – or I'd kill you where you stand."

Logan just laughed. Abbott and his men backed down the hallway. "I don't care what country I am in – you won't kill me. And Mel's mine – MINE!" He shouted as the men turned and stormed away.

So much for sleep – he'd sleep on the coach. He wasn't going to let them catch him unaware tonight.

He looked back into the room at his bride. She was just going to have to wait. She was his – he had accepted that, she would have to, too. He closed the door, and threw the bolt again, before grabbing a bowl of stew and sitting at the table to eat.

"Logan?"

"Come eat, Mel." He couldn't look at her – guilt wracked him.

"I'm not hungry."

"Mel – you haven't eaten since breakfast – and that was on the ship, get your ass over here and eat." She blanched at his tone. "I ain't goin ta bite, and I ain't goin ta hurt you – ever again! I will make this up to you, I swear, now eat something."

She pulled her under things together and dug in her bag for a dressing robe. She finally came to the table and took the other bowl and started picking at the cooling stew in it.

"It won't always be like that – I promise. I wish I had had more time; it wouldn't have been like that at all. Blame Abbott and his men – I will make it up to you." She just nodded. "You get some sleep after you are finished eating. I am going to stay up – wait for trouble."

"Do you think they will be back?" Her voice trembled.

"I don't know. Abbott's not stupid, and he doesn't want to face English justice where he can't buy it - I THINK he won't be stupid enough to try anything, but I am not going to trust that – or him." She nodded.

"What about…" She blushed.

"I told you – I will make it up to you, but I can't right now – right now I have to think about keeping us alive – making love to a woman is distracting at best – and I don't need to be distracted right now. Get some sleep – I will sleep on the coach." He could still smell fresh blood.

She pushed the bowl back on the table; half finished, and went back to the bed. She pulled a nightgown from the bag and poured some water into the basin. He watched as she stiffly removed her under things, blushing as she did so. He could see the dried blood and fluids on her legs, as she kept her back to him – but the fresh smell of blood was still bothering him. He stood and walked over to her.

"Mel – let me see."

"NO!" She blushed as she covered herself with the gown.

"Mel – I need to know – how badly I hurt you." He said it gently, his hands on hers.

She blushed as she lowered the gown, and his body responded to the site of her, he groaned. She was still bleeding a bit, he hoped it would quit soon. He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand.

"I am sorry." He whispered.

A tear slid from her eye and down her cheek, catching against the knuckle of his hand, and he pulled her roughly against his chest. "Let it go, Darlin' let it go." He held her as she sobbed. She had been through hell today, and it was all his fault. He picked her up and carried her to the bed, and sat down, with her across his lap. He just held her and rocked. He didn't know how long she cried, but the tears and sobs finally subsided to sleepy hiccups. He helped her to stand and slip the gown over her head. He went to the stand and picked up the cloth she had been using and rinsed it before going back to the bed and gently cleaning away the stains from earlier.

He slipped her gown down, covering her naked body, and then tucked her gently into bed. He started to stand when she grabbed his hand.

"Don't go – you are all I have left." She whispered, sleepily.

"I'm not goin anywhere. You need ta get some sleep. We head to London tomorrow, and then on to India."

"Do we have to take a ship?"

"Yes."

"Oh God – I am going to be sick the whole way."

"Now where is your sense of adventure – you did fine after the first couple days, and this is a longer voyage. You will be able to enjoy more. We will make stops along the way, see different countries. It'll be an adventure." He grinned at her.

"God I hate adventure." She grabbed the blanket and pulled it over her head. He laughed.

"You are goin ta have ta get over that, Darlin' I live for adventure – sometimes the only thing keepin me goin is not knowin what's over the next hill. The past is dead – we have only the present and the future."

She peeked out of the blankets. "You are crazy."

"Go to sleep – I'll keep watch tonight. Tomorrow – your education in wifely matters begins." He grinned at her as she moaned and turned her back to him. God help him, the weight around his neck seemed to tighten, cutting off his breath for a second. A wife – responsibility – the things he had avoided for thirty-eight years. He blew out the candle on the table, plunging the room into darkness. He planned on watching all night – no one would get to her – not while he was alive, and to his knowledge and experience – he wasn't going to be easy to kill.