Somewhere on St. Thomas: A Somewhere Series Romance (21 page)

“I’m sorry, Ruby. I know this is scary and hard for you to go through alone. I’m glad we spent the night together—aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” His kindness melted my defenses. Remembering how tender he’d been with me last night reminded me I had a lot more of that in store. “I just wish you were here now. And I didn’t know you were a Third.”

“Old stuff that doesn’t matter, and it’s bad luck to see the bride in her outfit before the wedding,” he teased. “Besides, I’m neck-deep in details, trying to get everything ready for the ceremony and shipping out.”

“I’m sorry. I feel useless.” I sat on the bed and bit my cuticle, a bad habit when I was worried.

“There’s really nothing you can do or need to do but be ready to go on time. We’re sailing out on the tide. And don’t talk to any reporters.”

“I don’t get why they are interested in us.”

“I’ll explain everything later. After the ceremony.”

“You aren’t a criminal or something, are you?” I laughed weakly.

“No. I promise you it’s nothing to worry about. Just be ready, okay? Can you do that for me?”

I was the one who sighed. “It feels wrong doing this all by myself. But at least there’s a cord to pull the zipper on the dress up. I can’t promise it’s going to fit, though.”

“It’ll fit. Just remember I love you, Ruby, and we’re doing this because we love each other and want to be together.” There was a note in his voice as if he were reassuring himself as well as me, and I frowned, looking down at the play of light on the star ruby on my finger and thinking of all the unanswered questions.

“I guess.”

He laughed. “Just be ready at ten.” He hung up.

I looked at the clock. It was nine. That gave me an hour to get into the dress, assuming it fit, get some makeup on, and figure out what to do about my hair.

At least I didn’t have to wash or blow-dry it. Even now it floated around me, loose and silky from Rafe’s ministrations of the night before.

“Onward, Ruby Day Michaels,” I said aloud. “Hammer down that coffee and get ready for your wedding.”

Chapter 19

I stood on the deck of the
Creamy Maid
, clutching Rafe’s hand. The dress was on, and I knew from my endless checking in the mirror that it couldn’t have fit better if it had been designed for me. I could see admiration in the eyes of the cluster of the
Maid
’s staff that had gathered with us,

I’d messed with my hair for a few minutes and then just decided to leave it down, tying the ivory satin ribbon that had been used to pull up the zipper around my head. The brisk wind of the day before was mercifully absent. I sneaked a peek at Rafe, resplendent in a tux. The sailors wore dazzling whites, and the ship gleamed and brass glittered as if freshly washed.

In spite of all that, I felt the loss of my family and any female friends keenly, and looked down at Rafe’s hand, clutched in both of mine, for reassurance. Why did everything have to be such a rush?

Oh yeah. We want to have sex, and Rafe won’t do it without being married.

Rafe’s friend who had a license to perform weddings, Captain Jock Huskins, situated us in front of him with gentle instructional murmurings. He was an imposing figure in dress whites with a lot of gold braid on them.

“Our ceremony today is to witness the marriage of Rafael Leland McCallum the Third to Ruby Day Michaels, this twenty-seventh day of May, 1989.” Captain Huskins sent a glance around the properly somber group of the
Maid
’s staff. I hung on to Rafe’s hand, unable to look up or at him because I could feel tears of emotion welling in my eyes and getting ready to pop out the way they did. I breathed shallowly so as not to sob.

“Do you, Rafe McCallum, take Ruby to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, until death do you part?”

“I do,” Rafe said, and gave my hand a powerful squeeze. I looked up, and sure enough the tears popped out. He lifted a hand and wiped them away with the ball of his thumb, leaning down to kiss me gently. I drew a deep shuddering breath and felt stronger.

Huskins cleared his throat and said, “Do you, Ruby Day Michaels, take Rafe to be your husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, until death do you part?”

Somewhere off in the distance I could hear the approaching thunder of a helicopter, but now my eyes were fixed on Rafe’s, green drowning in his blue. “I do,” I said, and it came out clear and strong.

“You may exchange the rings.”

I felt my stomach drop. I had no ring for Rafe! I started to look around wildly, and he squeezed my hands again as one of the sailors approached. He was holding the little silver music box Rafe had mailed me, and he opened it beside me. The sweet tinkling music lifted into the air as he opened it, and I saw a heavy gold band inside, battered and old-looking, along with a slim woman’s band.

Rafe slid the plain band onto my finger above the ruby and whispered in my ear, “These were my parents’ rings.”

“Oh. Where are they?” I asked, feeling terrible for yet another thing I hadn’t asked him about.

He just shook his head, avoiding my eyes, and I picked up the heavy masculine band and slid it over the thick knuckle of his finger, surprised to see how well it fit and feeling sad his father wasn’t here to see what a magnificent son he had.

“I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

There was some restrained applause from the sailors as Rafe swept me in for a good, hard smack full of promises. I heard and felt the thrum of the engines starting.

Huskins all but ran to the side to climb down to his tender, yelling, “Good luck!” as he did so. I could still hear the thrumming of the helicopter, and now Rafe circled my shoulders, glancing toward the helicopter.

“Let’s get under the canopy.” Our company moved deep into the shadow of the bridge. “Let’s get underway.” The crew dispersed like a well-oiled machine, and I stood in my dress, feeling ridiculous.

“Let me take you down to the cabin and you can change if you like,” Rafe said. There was a frown line between his dark brows. “I want you to be comfortable.”

“Are you coming down soon?”

“Of course. I just have to make sure we’re on our way and on course.”

I felt rattled and unsettled and generally like I wanted to work up to a major temper tantrum as he hustled me below to the luxurious cabin in the bow of the yacht.

“Where are we going?” The boat had begun to cleave the waves with a rolling sensation, and I thanked God I’d never been a seasick type or I’d be in hell right now, trapped down here.

“First leg of our honeymoon.”

That told me a whole lot of nothing. I bit my lip and tried not to cry or yell at him as he shut the door firmly behind me and hustled off to do whatever he needed to do. I knew he’d be back, and I could let him have it then. In fact, I had the rest of my life to fight with him.

That thought was going to take some getting used to.

I had taken the ribbon that pulled up the zipper off to tie around my head, so now I couldn’t get the zipper down. After some ineffectual contortions, I gave up and crawled onto the large, tidy, triangular bed dressed in bright navy bedding and built into the bow of the boat. I looked out the row of portholes on either side of the bow.

They were placed about five feet above the surface of the water and just a foot above the bed’s surface, so I could lie on my side and look out.

It was beautiful outside. The boat purred through the waves, rising and falling with a rhythm like breathing. I loved the alternating blue-green of the sea with the purity of the sky. I would see an occasional gull, or a cormorant, and then, suddenly and magically, the portholes filled with dolphins, leaping and surfing the bow wave, just feet away from me.

Their silver bodies flashed and leaped, and I even saw one look at me, its smile totally contented, as if everything was right with the world.

“Rafe! Rafe! Oh my God!” I shrieked. I am not quiet when I shriek, and I wasn’t surprised to hear the thunder of footsteps on the ladder and hear the door whack open.

I turned over to face him. “Dolphins, Rafe! Dolphins!” I felt my face fill with happiness.

I have always loved dolphins. They are everywhere in Saint Thomas, those emissaries of playful joy, and they’d always seemed to like me, too. I’d swum with them in Magen’s Bay more times than I could count, and that they’d appear now brought more reassurance to me than anything else could have.

If I had a spirit animal, it was the dolphin.

The high color of alarm ebbed out of Rafe’s face, and he looked out the window, a grin breaking over his face.

“Well, damn,” he said. “Haven’t seen any since we got into Boston. Nice escort.” He shut the door, turned the lock. “It’s time to be with my bride, anyway. They can figure out anything else that needs figuring out.”

He yanked at his tie, but it refused to come undone. I hefted up my frothing skirts and crawled to the end of the bed. “Let me help you.” I reached up and tugged the tie, undid the stiff collar. “I don’t know why you decided to go all formal with these clothes,” I said, gesturing to his tux and my dress. “It was just us.”

His blue eyes smoldered. “I didn’t want you to feel slighted. You deserve the best. And we’ll use them again, for the ceremony on Saint Thomas.”

I shrugged. “I would have been fine in shorts and a T-shirt.”

“I wanted to see you in a dress,” Rafe said. “And what’s under it. I have fantasized about this for so long. You have no idea.”

Now my cheeks heated up. “Oh.” I had no words, since I was the latecomer to this rapidly coordinated party. “Well, I tried to get the dress off, but I can’t get the zipper down.” I gestured.

“Let me help.”

I turned my back and watched the dolphins playfully leaping, entranced, as Rafe slid the zipper down, kissing the knobs of my spine as they were revealed.

He stopped with an intake of breath at the narrow ruffled strap of the G-string curving up my butt and over the top of my hips.

“You bought that,” I said a little irritably, to hide how nervous I was.

“So I did,” he said. And the zipper continued all the way down to the top of my ass, and he peeled the dress forward and helped me take my arms out of the long, tight sleeves.

“We should hang it up,” I fussed. He didn’t answer, just swung me around, stood me up, and lifted the whole rustling garment away from my body so that it fell with a shushing noise and a gush of warm air around my feet, and left me standing there in the ivory underwear set he’d picked out.

His eyes looked glazed as he stood there staring at me. I took the ribbon off my forehead and shook out the mane of my hair so it covered me like a cape, and I struck a sassy pose.

“What?”

“I can’t believe this moment is actually happening,” Rafe said. “You, in front of me. Looking like this. Wearing this. About to be mine. And just to make it really over-the-top, there are dolphins jumping in the background.”

“I expect bluebirds of happiness to start flapping around our heads any minute now,” I said, and he laughed, and I did, too, and stepped forward to undo the black buttons of his shirt, tugging the shirt’s tail out of the black slacks.

“But before we get too far with beginning official married life, I have some questions,” I said, my hands coming to rest on his shirtfront.

Rafe rolled his eyes. “Of course you do. It so happens I knew you would. I have champagne to help this go better.” He busied himself at the silver bucket on the tidy sideboard. I felt chilly in the fancy underwear, so I unzipped my battered suitcase and put on my fuzzy yellow terry-cloth robe. The dolphins had moved on, I saw to my regret.

Rafe turned, holding two bubbling flutes, and broke into a grin at the sight of me. “God, you’re adorable.”

“Good thing you think so. You’re a lot more likely to see me in this robe than in the sexy underwear.”

“I’m pretty sure my favorite outfit for you is nothing at all,” he said, handing me the glass. “To us.”

“To us.”

The champagne was tickly and tart, and I smacked my lips. “Another acquired taste I think I can acquire. So, questions. Who the heck are you, Rafe, that we’re hightailing it out of the harbor with helicopters after us and reporters are trying to get pictures of me in my sweats at the Ramada Inn?”

He took a long sip of his champagne, belched a little, and looked at me in appeal over the rim. “I think I’d like to do the deflowering thing first. I’m not sure this is going to put you in the mood.”

“Oh God. Are you an ax murderer who did in his first wife or something?” I tried to laugh, but I could feel the color draining out of my cheeks.

“Bottoms up. Drink your champagne,” he said. “We can’t leave half-full glasses rattling around with the motion we’ve got going on.” I tipped back my head and drank my champagne, and it immediately made me feel a little dizzy and warm.

Rafe set both empty glasses in the little metal sink built into the sideboard and crawled up on the bed beside me, pulling me into his arms. We stretched out, and he pillowed my head on his arm and stroked my body through the fuzzy robe. I put my ear against his chest so I could hear the thump of his heart and the deep rhythm of his breathing.