Chapter 2

When the proprietor gave Nick a sour glare, Nick huffed out a breath, rolled his eyes, and dropped to one knee, arms crossed over his other knee. He rubbed his temples while Todd chatted happily with the merchant.

“Oh, Nicky, look at this, it’s just like the one Jack James had.”

Todd held a small gun with a pearl handle under Nick’s nose while Nick grumbled the words “Just like Jack James.”

“And check this out. It’s got the spring strap for under my jacket.”

“Are we hunting chipmunks now? Is it loaded?”

“Oh, right, good thought.” Todd turned to the proprietor and asked, “Do you have ammo for it?”

“Damn, not loaded,” Nick muttered. “Probably doesn’t have enough power to pierce my skull, anyway.”

Todd finished paying for his purchase and looked down at him. “Huh?”

“Nothing.” Nick smiled up at Todd. His bangs flopped in his eyes, the picture of innocence, doting mate and slave. “I do love you. Always remember that.” The simple fact was, however, if Nick heard the words “just like Jack James” one more time, it was distinctly possible there weren’t enough bullets manufactured—anywhere—to slow him down, let alone stop him.

Shaking his head, Todd hooked a finger under Nick’s slave collar and gave a very gentle tug. “Let’s go, we’ll miss our boat.”

“‘Cause I was the one stopping every three feet,” Nick said and smiled.

Todd winked and bobbed his eyebrows up and down a few times. “Don’t worry, Nicky, once we’re in our stateroom, I’ll get rid of your headache and put a big smile on your face.”

“Stateroom?”

“Hell yeah! Because—”

“Jack James alwaystraveled in style.” Nick finished the sentence and threw both hands in the air for emphasis. Nick was starting to really hate Jack James, which was sad and pretty pathetic because the man was a fictional character from a series of books Todd read, and adored, as a kid.

They continued along the pier, and Nick took some comfort in the fact that Todd seemed to have lost interest in the vendors. Without warning, Todd grabbed Nick by the shoulders and shook him so hard, he was nearly knocked off-balance. “Nick! Look! Lookat her. It says Annabelle.”

“I’ve been reading since I was four.”

Nick had to really stretch his legs to keep pace with his mate as they hurried to the gangplank. In reality, it was more like a bridge. Dark, rich wood was stretched from the pier to the boarding area of the boat. The rope rails were thick and white, with red and black strings woven throughout. It was wide enough to easily accommodate several people walking shoulder to shoulder as they crossed.

They had to stop and wait in line. Todd pulled their tickets out, tapping them against his fingers while he rocked on the balls of his feet. Nick had to admit, even if it was only to himself, the riverboat Annabellewas an impressive sight to behold.

Three decks rose majestically above the water. Gold streamers decorated the railings encircling the sides and far end of the boat near the paddle wheel. Twin stacks graced the back end—”stern,” Nick remembered was the correct term—of the boat. Wisps of steam curled up from the stacks. The outer portions of the boat were glossy and white. What was visible of the inside was deep-red carpet and dark wooden panels. Lively, happy music from a band floated from somewhere inside.

“You’re learning to dance, no more excuses,” Todd leaned over and whispered in Nick’s ear. “And don’t forget, you’re the—”

“Devoted mate of a man who spends too much time gambling and not enough teaching me to dance.” Nick threw his wrist across his forehead. “I’m so lonely, and I have needs.”

“Don’t be a drama king,” Todd said. He grinned and took Nick’s hand in his, squeezing it, then pulled Nick a step closer when the rope barrier to the boat was moved aside and people began pushing forward. “Don’t stray.”

“I never do.” Nick ducked his head and pressed his arm to Todd’s back, basking in his mate’s strength and warmth and very happy to have Todd between him and the crowd. Todd glanced back at Nick and winked, settling Nick’s nerves and bumping his heart rate up a notch.

There were porters taking tickets, moving luggage on large wheeled carts, and directing passengers to their rooms. People were everywhere, but they were dispersing, so it wasn’t nearly as bad as the more congested groups on the pier.

“Well, who is this tall, dark stranger?” An older woman with a neat, thick sort of figure and white hair pulled back and held in place with ornate clasps was standing in Nick’s path, eyeing him like he was a tasty snack.