Kate took a step forward and placed an impulsive hand on his arm. "You don't really mind, do you, Daniel?"

Daniel's impatient gaze traveled from her hand on his arm to her troubled face. "You bet your sweet…" He stopped abruptly as he met her eyes. He was silent a long moment before he smiled with surprising gentleness. "I'll live through it." He patted her hand. "I'll not only be best man, I'll even make the supreme sacrifice for the occasion."

"What's that?"

He glanced ruefully down at his naked muscular chest with its curly thatch of auburn hair. "I'll put on a shirt." He turned away. "But don't expect anything else from me. Enough is enough!" He was almost to the door leading below deck when he abruptly turned around again. "Well, maybe one more thing. You're going to need a ring for the ceremony. I know Beau never wears one. Do you have one, Kate?"

She shook her head.

He was taking a large ring of Florentine gold off his right hand. "Use this one." He tossed it to Beau. "It's my lucky ring though. I want it back."

Kate studied the ring. It was obviously very valuable, aside from the fact that it was fashioned of pure gold. The workmanship was exquisite and the design on the surface very unusual. A rose in full bloom pierced by a sword. "Lucky?"

Daniel nodded. "It was given to me by a powerful Sedikhan sheik I did a favor for once. I didn't know it at the time, but wearing it put me automatically under the sheik's protection. That particular symbol is recognized throughout Sedikhan." His lips twisted. "The revolutionaries I told you about stole the ring after they captured me. When they sold it in the bazaar the buyer took it to the sheik and he contacted Donahue. Together they traced it and that led them to me. After six months in the hellish hotbox I was ready to believe the ring wasn't only lucky but pure magic."

"I can see how you would," Kate said. Magic. This marriage could certainly use any magic as well as luck the ring could bring them. "Thank you for letting us use it, Daniel."

"My pleasure." He disappeared down the stairs.

When she looked back on that strange ceremony it was all a jumble of flickering impressions. The movement of the ship beneath her feet, the clear warm sunlight bathing everything in its radiance, the crew in attendance, their faces surprisingly solemn. The thin, graying justice of the peace, Mr. Carruthers, with his sweet smile. Daniel, dressed in his cutoff jeans but with a pristine white shirt buttoned to the throat with endearing circumspection, the exotic gold ring being slipped on her finger. Beau's voice low and oddly husky as he repeated the prescribed vows, her own voice, faint and far away. It was all vaguely dreamlike until almost the very end when Beau turned to face her.

"I'd like to say something," he said softly. "You're probably not aware of it, but it's become very popular these days for a couple to make their own vows. I think it started back in the sixties with the flower children." He smiled gently as he took her hand in his. "I never thought I'd be tempted to follow their example, but here goes." He paused for a long moment and when the words came, they were distinct and clear with a jewellike richness.

"There are only a few qualities I've ever discovered worth holding onto when I've found them in this tired old world of ours. They are honesty, fidelity, and a loving generosity of the spirit. I've found all of them in you, Kate." His clasp tightened and his golden eyes were liquidly brilliant as they held hers. "I promise to give you my own honesty and fidelity in return. I can't promise to give that same generosity of spirit. That particular quality is so very rare it's almost priceless and I don't know if I even possess it. I will give you my strength to protect you, any knowledge and experience I've acquired through the years, and my friendship." He drew a deep shaky breath. "They aren't gifts I give lightly. Will you accept them, Kate?"

"Oh yes." She was so moved she could hardly get the words past the tightness of her throat. "I wasn't expecting this. I don't know what to say in return."

"Nothing," Beau said simply, turning back to Mr. Carruthers. "You don't have to say anything. I just wanted you to know. Let's get on with it."

"There's only a few more lines," the justice said gruffly, hurriedly bending his head over the Bible in his hands.

She scarcely heard the final words that completed the ceremony. She felt as if she were wrapped in the golden warmth of the words Beau had spoken. So beautiful. No words ever had such shining beauty and Beau's gentle kiss at the end of the ritual was also gravely beautiful.

She was vaguely conscious of Beau thanking Mr. Carruthers and an envelope exchanging hands. Then Daniel was inviting them all down to his cabin for a drink before he had the justice taken ashore.

Beau shook his head. "I'm afraid you'll have to excuse us. I need to talk to Kate." He turned to Kate. "Will you come down to the cabin with me?"

She nodded dreamily, barely conscious of his hand on her elbow propelling her away from the others and down the stairs. The door of the cabin closed behind them and she turned to face him, her eyes still glowing with that soft misty luminance. "What did you want to speak to me about?"

"What?" he asked bemusedly. Then he shook his head as if to clear it. "Do me a favor and don't look at me like that, okay? I had no intention of doing anything but talking when I brought you down here."

"And now?" she asked softly, moving a step closer.

"Now I want to throw you on the bunk and have my wicked way with you."

"I didn't find your way at all wicked before," she said, a little smile tugging at her lips. "I found it very enjoyable. Are you planning on doing it differently this time?"

"Certainly." Beau's eyes were twinkling. "Variety is definitely the spice of life, particularly when it pertains to doing 'it.' " The humor faded from his face. "Listen to me, I'll have you with your clothes off and lying in that bed in a couple of minutes and that's not why we're here. I have to tell you why we went through that ceremony up on deck just now."

"You've already told me," she said, smiling lovingly at him. Her hands began to unbutton her white cotton shirt. "I understand perfectly. You want to go home. I've never really had a home, but I understand the pull is very strong. If that's where you want me, then that's where I'll go." She'd go to the penal colony on Devil's Island if he'd only look at her again as he had on deck while he'd said those beautiful vows. "And you needn't worry that I'll take advantage of you. Whenever you want it dissolved all you have to do is tell me and I'll go away." The words were very hard to get out but they must be said. "And while we're together I'll try not to forget the marriage doesn't really exist. I promise I won't be a Xanthippe."

His eyes were fixed on the lush cleavage revealed by her bra as she shrugged out of her shirt. "Dissolved? What do you mean dis-" He broke off. "Who the hell is Xanthippe?"

"She was Socrates's wife." She was struggling with the back fastener of her bra. "She was very bad-tempered. Socrates said that by living with her he learned to get along with the rest of the world." "No wonder he was so willing to drink that cup of hemlock," he said absently. He inhaled sharply as the fastener was at last released and she slipped the straps down over her arms and tossed the bra aside. "Why do I get the impression that you're trying to seduce me?"

She stepped still another step closer and began to unbutton his brown shirt. "Perhaps because I am," she said serenely, her naked breasts swaying and heavy against him. The sensitive tips brushing against the cool smoothness of his shirt were already burning and peaking with the readiness that was surging through her entire body. "I've read a few books on the subject. Aggressiveness on the part of the female at times is a very welcome variation." She grinned up at him mischievously. "And you just told me that variety is the spice of life." She pushed the fabric of his shirt apart and rubbed her breasts against him. "You've been the aggressor every time so far. I want my turn."

"Nag, nag, nag," he growled, a dark flush mounting to his cheeks as he instinctively leaned forward to meet the thrust of those tantalizing nipples. "You may not be familiar with women's lib as yet, but heaven help us poor males when you are, Xanthippe."

She slipped the shirt from his shoulders and drew it with painstaking slowness down his arms, brushing against him with every breath and every movement. She could hear his breathing begin to grow labored and the pulse in the hollow of his throat was leaping crazily. How wonderful to know she could have that effect on him. But she wanted to do more, she wanted to give him so much pleasure that he'd be dizzy with it. She loved him so very much. How had it grown so quickly to fill her entire life? Perhaps if she could bring him enough pleasure he would love her, too, if only during the moments of passion. "Have your wicked way with me, Beau. Please."

He shuddered but not with cold. His flesh against her own was burning hot. "Perhaps we could talk later," he said, his palm splaying over her jean-clad bottom. "I think I've lost my train of thought anyway. I think it was going to begin with something about how I realize that you don't know me all that well and how unfair it was of me…" He drew a deep breath as he jerked her hips forward so that his iron-hard arousal was pressed boldly against her. "Oh hell, you do know me, at least in the Biblical sense. What's one more time?"

One more time. The phrasing made her vaguely uneasy but only for a moment. She was having trouble thinking at all through the haze of heat that was beginning to surround her. Beau's hands were working swiftly at the fastener of her jeans and she was suddenly confused about who was seducing whom. "What about my turn?"