I crossed my arms over my chest and tucked in my hands. “No, we shall not. I told you I wasn’t saying I’d marry you. And don’t pull that ‘I’m safer with you’
crap. Bart is no threat to me, and I still have people to talk to on Turtle’s Back, so I’m staying there.”
“As the midnight blue water of the Seventh Sea flows eternal, so shall the (virtual) love of these two people. Corbin, do ye take this woman to be yers?”
Holder, back in his monk garb, was clearly getting way too much into the ceremony that I never agreed to. He looked as happy as a shopaholic on Rodeo Drive.
“I do,” Corbin said, still grinning.
“No, he doesn’t,” I said, adjusting my arm so the pearl Corbin had given me to stop seasickness was hitting the correct pressure point. Amazingly enough, it seemed to keep me from feeling the least bit queasy.
On the main deck a collection of twenty or so men, including Bas, stood in a semicircle around the trio of Corbin, Holder, and me.
“Do ye promise to stoke her guns, and her guns only?”
“I do,” Corbin repeated, gently pulling me over until I stood facing him.
I glared. “No one stokes my guns without my permission,” I snapped, losing the slim hold I had on my temper.
“I’d never think of stoking without your express consent,” Corbin told me.
“Do ye promise to hoist no other mainsails than hers?” Holder asked.
“Oh, for God’s sake… this wedding is ridiculous! I never said I’d marry you!” I yelled, waving my hands around in frustration. “Why is no one listening to me?”
“I’m listening to ye, Amy,” Bas said. Bran squawked his agreement.
“Aye, I do so promise,” Corbin told Holder.
“Gah!”
“Amy, do ye take this man to be yers?” Holder turned to me.
I transferred my glare from Corbin to him. “No, I most certainly do not. I would never marry a man who didn’t listen to me. Been there, done that, got the alimony, thank you.”
“Aw, sweetheart, don’t break me heart,” Corbin said, grabbing my hands and giving them a gentle squeeze.
“Do you promise to climb no masts other than his?”
“I’m beginning to think you don’t have a heart to… what?” I looked at Holder, then back to Corbin. “Did he just say what I think he said?”
Corbin smiled a smile that had my legs turning to jelly. His gray eyes were almost luminescent in the glow of the oil lamps and moonlight, and they turned positively quicksilver when he leaned forward and whispered in my ear,
“Don’t like to be on top? You pick the position, my sweet.”
Passion flickered from him to me, firing my blood until an inferno of desire swept through me. I cleared my throat. “I’m not saying no to that. In fact, I’m starting to think thatthatmight be a good idea, although I’ve never done anything like that virtually before. But I’m sorry, Corbin. I want to talk to you first before we discuss terms of a marriage.”
“Do ye promise to load his guns with yer finest powder?” Holder asked me.
“You are deranged,” I told him. “This game has gone to your head, and frankly, I think you’re going to need deep psychological help when we get out, because those innuendoes are just way too over the line.”
“I’ll take that as an aye, shall I?” Holder beamed at us both.
“No!” I yelled.
“Aye,” everyone else on board yelled back.
“Then by the powers vested in me by the CEO of Buckling Swashes, our own Captain Corbin here—”
