Twelve
Twelve
T his time, Oriana woke up in her enormous bed in the honeymoon suite, as if none of it had ever happened. She might have even believed it, if not for the glowering, shirtless man standing over her at the end of the bed, holding Dampier’s journal.
Oh shit.
“That belongs in a museum. I was taking it to the museum in town,” Oriana said.
“You had no right to take it,” he growled. “This journal is mine.”
“Like hell it is. History belongs to everyone, and it should be protected and preserved in a museum where everyone can see it. Dampier would want his journal on display. Why else would he write that book about his voyages?”
“Dampier could do whatever he liked with his own journal. I gave him mine once, and he promised he would write a book and make both of us rich, yet my name wasn’t mentioned even once in his book. He said if I stayed behind to protect his treasure, he would return to collect it with me, and we would both be rich men. Yet he never returned, and while we should both now be dead men, here I still stand, protecting everything I promised, long after he is dead and gone!” He pointed an accusing finger at Oriana. “I let him steal my journal once, with his lies, but I will not be fooled again, least of all by a woman!”
None of it made sense. Oriana might have hit her head and just woken up, but she was still certain that even on her most sober, alert day, she wouldn’t be able to make sense of what Swaran had just said.
Unless he really was a volcano god.
And…
“How did you even get here? On the ship, and inside my cabin?” she demanded.
“I flew, carrying you,” he said, spreading a pair of honest to goodness, freaking huge wings out so wide, they touched both the ceiling and the floor at the same time. “The other people on the ship thought I was your husband, and helped me bring you here.”
The husband she didn’t have, and no one had seen. Until now.
Before she’d stolen the journal from him, she’d have said she’d prefer Swaran as a husband over Hunter any day (and ten times at night, because…the man was a sex god, even without wings), but now…
“So now you have your journal back, you’re just going to fly back to your volcano lair, and I’ll never see you again?” she asked, her heart sinking at the thought.
“I wish it could be so, but I cannot. You have seen the journal, and I cannot be sure how much of it you remember. Now, I must watch over you, until I am certain Captain Dampier’s treasure is safe.”
“Why?” Not that she was complaining, but it still didn’t make sense. Why would a volcano god care about some pirate’s treasure?
“Because the spell that binds me to this form demands that I protect Dampier’s treasure from all who might steal it. I swore an oath and I will not break it, even if Dampier himself is dead. I will keep his treasure safe from thieves like you!”
“So you’re not a volcano god, just under a spell that’s let you live for more than three hundred years?” She couldn’t believe she was saying such a thing. “What are you?”
“Dampier’s spell turned me into a foundation sacrifice, a protector bound to serve. A gargoyle, they call such things in his country. The spell trapped my spirit in a body of living stone, which binds me as the protector of his treasure until it is safe. I cannot be defeated or destroyed, only slowed by sunlight. I do not need water or sleep or sustenance, existing only to protect, until the spell is broken.”
Oriana’s brain was working again, but even she found it hard to believe her own conclusions. “So how are you supposed to break the spell, if Dampier’s dead and he didn’t leave any dependents to inherit this treasure you’re protecting? Are you expected to just protect it forever? Because that doesn’t seem right.” She thought about it a little longer. “Actually, does that mean if no one ever comes to collect the treasure as their rightful property, then you’ll never be able to break the spell, and you’ll be stuck like this forever? I mean, you’d get to live forever, but you’d never be free?”
Swaran nodded. “Unless I can find a way to protect the treasure so that it does not need me, or find its rightful owner, then yes, I imagine I will remain as I am now until the end of time.”
That just didn’t seem right. Immortality but at the price of slavery. He’d given her the most amazing night of her life. The least she could do was offer him a chance at freedom. “What if there was a way to protect the treasure, and set you free?”
Suspicion hardened his features as he stared at her. “If you mean to take my place as protector, forget it. I do not know how to perform the spell that binds me, and even if I did, I would not trust you to protect the treasure as I have.”
“Not me. Times have changed since Captain Dampier sailed the sea. Now, historic treasures are kept safe in museums, where everyone can see them, but no one can steal them. Here, let me show you.” She found her phone, then searched until she found some pictures of treasures on display. “The gold contents of King Tutankhamen’s tomb are on display in a museum. Or the English crown jewels, which are on display in the Tower of London, for everyone to see. Is Dampier’s treasure worth more than this?” She showed him pictures, which only made her want to keep travelling, all the way to London, so she might see them for herself. The crown jewels might not be as dangerous as a volcano, but they were still rare rocks.
“I do not think so,” he conceded, after staring a long time at the crowns and sceptres.
“So, if we went looking for Dampier’s treasure, using your journal to find it all, and then took it all to a museum, you’d be free, right?”
He frowned. “You would help me? At what cost?”
She’d do it for the sheer adventure of it. After teaching endless science classes to bored teenagers who didn’t care about a word she had to say, it would be the trip of a lifetime. Then there was the promise of spending more time with him.
Nights with Swaran…a delicious shiver danced through her body.
She closed her eyes. Did she dare even suggest it?
“If you pretend to be my husband.” When it looked like he might not agree, she added, “For the rest of this cruise.”
Now his gaze turned calculating. “It seems to me that I should pretend to be your husband until our travels together are complete, if only to protect your reputation. I would also have to share your bed for the duration, to make people believe we are truly married.”
“Yes.” It came out far more breathless and needy than she’d intended, but for one more night like last night, she’d happily spend years treasure hunting with Swaran. She stuck out her hand. “Deal?”
He took her hand and shook it. “We have an accord. But if we are to share a bed for some time, we will need more of that coconut oil.”
Oriana grinned. “Oh, that’s easy. There’s a whole gift basket that came with the room. Enough to last the whole cruise, or we can ask the steward for some more. At least, that’s what the note in the basket says.”
“In that case, I think we should retire to bed.”
“Oh yes.”
Which was the most intelligible thing she managed to say for the rest of that day, because once her pirate gargoyle protector joined her in bed, then her honeymoon truly got started, and she knew for certain there would be nothing but happy endings for her from now on.