The Inconvenient Bride Series 1-3

by Sharon Ihle

  Still, Shylo didn't feel terribly out of place or threatened when Dimitri disappeared inside the Earp gambling hall on Fourth and E Street. In fact, she'd just about decided to follow him inside when he came back out and continued down the boardwalk. It wasn't until he had moved deeper into the "stingaree" that she began to regret her impulsive decision to follow him.

  She became increasingly uneasy as she passed by various bawdy houses, gambling halls, opium dens, and saloons with names like the Seven Buckets of Blood, the First and Last Stop, One-Eyed Mclnery's, and a place called Till A. Barnes, where she was forced to sidestep the unruly "pet" bear the owner kept chained outside on the boardwalk. By the time Dimitri finally reached the next Earp gambling hall, Shylo was but one step behind him.

  "Dimitri—wait," she said, her voice quivering.

  Hardly able to believe his own ears, Dimitri turned on her in shocked surprise. "Shylo? What are you doing here?"

  "I... well, that is, I thought—"

  "You did not think at all. What of your promise to me?"

  "I'm sorry, but this meeting is just too important for me to sit around and hope it all goes well." She glanced over the saloon's door. "Is Mr. Earp in there?"

  "It matters not." He clamped his fingers around her arm. "This place is filled with drunks and louds, and you will not be going inside. We will return to the hotel at once."

  The doors to the saloon behind them flew open then, disgorging a pair of drunken sailors onto the boardwalk. Shylo canted her head in their direction and said, "I think it'd be just as easy to take me inside. We're both here now, so why not get this over with?"

  Glowering at her, Dimitri saw with horror that the drunks had gotten to their feet and were staggering toward Earp's place. With rage choking his voice, he said, "You will pay for this, this, not listen later, but come with me now."

  Then, gripping her arm roughly, Dimitri pushed open the doors and marched Shylo through the crowd of noisy gamblers, some whistling as she passed, others shouting ribald comments or hooting their catcalls. Wondering if he hadn't gone completely mad to bring his wife into a place such as this, he spotted a man at the bar wearing a suit with matching vest and an expression vastly superior to the lowly crowd he surveyed. Dimitri decided he would most likely be the manager.

  When he reached the bar, Dimitri pulled Shylo in front of his body, shielding her from view of the others in the room. "I must see Wyatt Earp this minute. I come on a matter of extreme urgent. Please at once to me bring him."

  Biting back a grin, Shylo patted Dimitri's arm, which was wrapped possessively around her waist. "My, ah, husband is new to this country, and his English gets a little sloppy when he's upset. Could you please tell us if Mr. Earp is in?"

  His piercing blue eyes flickering between her and Dimitri, the man answered in a deep foghorn voice, "You're talking to him. What's so important?"

  Shylo nearly gasped. She'd heard of Wyatt Earp, of course, especially after the bloody battle at the O.K. Corral and the indictment for murder he'd gotten for slaying the man who'd killed his brother, but she'd never seen a photograph of the famous marshal before. He was as tall as Dimitri, though not as broad and muscular, and russet-haired with a thick handlebar mustache in a darker shade of auburn. His cold-eyed gaze aside, she supposed that the former marshal was probably the kind of man most women considered very handsome—had they not seen the Greek god standing directly behind her first, of course.

  Dimitri was very aware that his wife was gawking at Wyatt Earp, a lawman who'd already become an American legend at the age of forty. And he didn't like it one bit. His tone more brusque now, he stated the reasons for his inquiry.

  "We have come to San Diego to find some friends of ours, and were told that you might know where they can be found. We seek Colleen and Niko Pappas."

  Earp adjusted his string tie and rested an elbow against the bar. "If I was to know these folks, what's your interest in them?"

  While Dimitri was unaccustomed to most American rituals, he did recognize both the challenge and the attempt to downplay that dare in Earp's calculated yet casual appearance. One wrong move, and he was pretty sure the legend would blow a hole in him. His grip tightened around Shylo's waist as he replied, "Niko is a fellow countryman and an old family acquaintance. Mrs. Pappas is the mother of one of my wife's dear friends. We only wish to say hello to them since we are in the area, and bring them news of home and family."

  "Is that so?" Earp's free hand moved toward his hip. "I've never heard Colleen mention that she had any kids."

  "Well, she does," Shylo blurted out.

  Earp straightened, pinning her with a frigid gaze, and at that same moment Dimitri practically squeezed the breath right out of her. Realizing belatedly that her reaction had been too obvious, too defensive, she laughed and said, "Colleen has—had two daughters. They're grown now, but I've known them since... since they were born."

  "That's probably why she didn't mention them," said Dimitri, determined to take control of the conversation again. "Do you know where we might locate the Pappases, Mr. Earp?"

  "As a matter of fact, I do, but I'm just a mite curious about why you call 'saying hello' to a pair of old friends an 'extremely urgent' matter. That don't sound quite right to me."

  "The urgent of matter, sir"—Dimitri paused to take a breath, calming himself—"is the fact that my wife insisted I bring her along with me. I want her out of here as soon as possible so she won't have to listen to any more of... of—" He simply couldn't think of a correct word for the situation other than a profanity he'd picked up in New York. "Surely you can understand that I'd like to get her out of here as quickly as possible."

  "I suppose I can see your point," he said, his gaze roaming the dress of pink sateen and the curves beneath it. "I sure wouldn't bring my Josie in here, and I own the place."

  Not the slightest bit happy over the way Earp was eyeing Shylo, Dimitri muttered, "That's why I'd like the information we seek now, please."

  "And sinners want whiskey in hell."

  Dimitri had been frustrated and upset by the fact that he'd been fool enough to bring his wife into such a sordid atmosphere, but now, thanks to this famous gunman who seemed to be enjoying his discomfort, he was embarrassed and humiliated as well.

  Seething, mad at everyone including himself, he gripped her elbow. "Let's go, Shylo. This donkey back has no intention of helping us find our friends."

  Dimitri turned with her still wrapped in his arms, but before he'd taken a step, Earp's burst of laughter brought them both to a halt. Then he said, "I've been called a lot of names in my day, most of them unmentionable in a lady's presence, but I do believe that's the first time I've been referred to as a donkey's back. Is it best that I don't know exactly what you mean by that?"

  His jaw rigid, Dimitri nodded, since he had indeed tried to find a decent way to call the man an asshole. "I would say it is best. If that's all?"

  "Not quite." Earp laughed again, and then relaxed against the bar, this time for real. "Colleen and Niko were staying at the Belle View Hotel at Fourth and G where me and Josie live, but I'm not sure if they plan on going back there when they return to San Diego. Colleen was mighty interested in having a look at that new hotel over on Coronado."

  "Come back from where?" said Shylo. "And when?"

  "They took a little honeymoon trip to Mexico." Earp showed her a meaningful smile. "They caught a coastal steamer for Ensenada, and figure on going even farther south if they like what they see there. They'll either be back by packet a week from this Saturday afternoon, or next."

  One or two weeks more? Shylo slumped against Dimitri's chest. Would this nightmare of chasing her mother never end?

  "Thank you for the information." Dimitri offered his hand, although he'd rather have doubled his fist and popped the lawman in the mouth. After the men shook hands, he added absently, "Perhaps we'll meet again when our friends return to San Diego."

  Earp gave him a tight smile. "You can bet o
n it, partner. My Josie and I have gotten real friendly with Colleen and Niko. I wouldn't want anything to get their feathers ruffled." He narrowed his cold blue eyes. "Know what I mean?"

  * * *

  The rest of that day went by in a blur of conflicting emotions for Shylo. Not only was she deeply disappointed to learn her long anticipated reunion was delayed yet again, but now she had to face a very real concern. Putting off Dimitri and the consummation of their "marriage" had been relatively easy up until this point, but how could she possibly manage to avoid him for another week or two?

  If she told him the truth—all of it—he would most certainly pull his support of her and Cassie, and where would that leave them? Out in the cold, damp streets of San Diego, a town that wasn't nearly as civilized as she'd hoped it would be. They wouldn't survive two days, much less two weeks, given their financial situation.

  If she continued with her lies—which naturally included pretending that she'd actually wedded Dimitri—sooner or later he would demand that she perform her wifely duties. And she wouldn't have a leg to stand on in refusing him. Shylo's head was swirling with all that and more by the time supper was finished that night, but she'd managed to come up with an excuse that she hoped would buy her just a little more time and keep her out of the marital bed for at least another day.

  Dimitri had been consumed by his own thoughts throughout the afternoon and evening as well, but his concerns revolved around the night ahead and the proper way a gentleman ought to go about seducing his bride. In his previous and limited experiences, he'd never been privileged—or, perhaps, challenged—to make the intimate acquaintance of a virgin. Certain his new bride was still innocent in that way, he was determined not to hurt her as that was the last thing he wanted to do. From what he understood of these things, however, if he proceeded with the first thing he wanted to do, she would suffer some pain no matter how he went about his lovemaking. He'd thought more than once of seeking Ari's council but just couldn't bring himself to discuss such a private concern.

  As he saw the ladies upstairs after their meal was finished, Dimitri was still absorbed by the variety of ways he might go about accomplishing the pleasant task ahead of him. He absently bade Cassie good night at the door to her room, and then slipped his arm around Shylo's waist for the walk down the hall to their suite.

  As she had the night before, she balked and pulled away from him. "Oh, Dimitri. I know that you've been very patient with me so far, but I have to ask you to remain that way for a little while longer."

  Quite sure that he didn't want to hear what she had to say, he asked the question anyway. "Are you trying to say that you're not planning to come to our room with me again?"

  "I really can't. I hope you'll understand."

  "Well, I don't. Please explain yourself."

  She took a backward step, alarmed by the feral look in his dark eyes. "I—it's Cassie. She hasn't been herself since those outlaws kidnapped her. Sometimes I find her just staring out the window with tears running down her face, and when I ask her what's wrong, she says, 'Nothing,' in a flat kinda way, and then stares out into space again. I'm worried about her, and don't think I should leave her alone." She laughed nervously. "Why, that girl doesn't even have enough sense to lock her door. I'm always reminding her, but she just can't seem to think of it."

  Shylo reached for the brass knob and turned it. "See what I mean?" After swinging open the door to Cassie's room, she stepped inside, turned to Dimitri, and said, "Thanks for understanding. I'll see you in the morning at breakfast." Then she closed the door in his face.

  At first he just stood there, absolutely still, like a perfect imitation of the marble statue he hoped to restore to Greece. When he realized exactly what had happened, and that once again he was a groom without his bride, a sudden cold fury seized him. He clenched his fists, raising them as if he planned to pummel the door until it fell, then lowered them to his sides and started for the staircase instead.

  He thought he had a grip on himself, and that he would descend to the bar two floors below as he'd done the previous evening, but when he reached the top step he hesitated.

  "Hell if I'll spend another night alone," he muttered to himself. "The hell if I will."

  Reversing direction, Dimitri stormed back down the hallway to Cassie's door and quietly tested the handle. As Shylo had suggested it would be, the room was still unlocked. To give the women a small warning—as little as the law might allow—he beat on the door as he opened it, then took a quick glance inside. Both ladies were in shock, but decently dressed.

  Strolling toward them, he said quietly to Cassie, "Do you think you are feeling well enough to manage alone in here?" She looked at him as if he'd truly gone crazy. He rephrased his question. "Can you possibly stay by yourself for the night so that my wife and I can have a few moments to ourselves?"

  Cassie burst out laughing. "Of course I can, silly. I'm not a baby all scared of the dark, you know. I'm a full-grown woman."

  "Good. I'm glad to hear it." Dimitri glanced at his bride and held out his hand in invitation. "Well? Shall we retire for the night?"

  Shylo's eyes widened as they darted from Cassie to Dimitri. Hedging as once again she tried to find a plausible rationalization, she backed away. "Umm, well..."

  "You're quite out of excuses, my little kumquat." He advanced on her. "And I'm quite out of patience."

  Then, before Shylo could say a word or understand what he was about to do, Dimitri swept her off her feet and heaved her over his shoulder. He strode to the door, carrying his speechless bride hanging off his back like sack of wool, and paused long enough to give Cassie a warning from over his shoulder.

  "Be sure to lock the damn door when we're gone so Shylo won't be worrying about you all night. I'll wait outside until I know you've done it."

  A moment after he'd pulled the door shut behind him, Dimitri heard the metallic click he'd been listening for. "Good night, Cassie," he said. Then he started toward the bridal suite.

  Finally locating her voice, Shylo clung to the back of his shirt and protested loudly, "Dimitri, stop. I—I can't go with you."

  "In case you haven't noticed, you seem to be going anyway."

  "B-but—" She was frantic to think of an excuse. "But I don't even have my nightgown with me."

  "That's not going to be a problem, Mrs. Adonis. You won't be needing it."

  Chapter 12

  Once inside their suite, Dimitri headed straight for the bedroom, where he deposited his bride none too gently onto the mattress. As she thrashed about trying to regain her balance, he lit the bedside lamp but left the flame low, illuminating little more than the center of the bed and the brass headboard.

  "How... dare you treat me like that," Shylo cried, regaining both her feet and her senses.

  "I don't see why you are so upset—it is traditional, is it not, for a man to carry his bride across the threshold?" Dimitri flashed his dimples and laughed.

  "I don't think you're one bit funny." Shylo tried to straighten her bonnet, which had slipped to the side of her head, then tore it off in frustration instead. "In fact, you should be ashamed of yourself. Why, if I were a man—"

  "If you were a man, I wouldn't have gone to the trouble of collecting you." Dimitri gave her an indulgent smile, then took off his jacket and draped it over a chair. "And if you had tried to be a better wife to me by now, none of this would have been necessary."

  Shylo had no ready answer for that, so she turned, showing him her profile, and raised the tip of her nose to a properly insulted tilt. He laughed at her again, but when he spoke she heard little amusement in his tone.

  "That's a very cute expression, Mrs. Adonis, but cute is not what I'm after tonight." Now his voice was heavy with meaning, but she dared not look at him. "You have two choices; either you can begin undressing yourself or I'll do it for you."

  Shylo whirled around. "You—you wouldn't dare."

  "But of course I would." Dimitri swiftly unbuttoned h
is shirt and tossed it over the jacket. Then he reached for his belt buckle. "You have done nothing but avoid this moment since we arrived in San Diego. Your disobedience earlier today and your reluctance to join me in our bridal chamber has done little for my male pride, I can assure you of that. By the time this night is over, I intend to have it restored again. You can help—or not."

  The last thing Shylo cared about was Dimitri's male pride—the removing or restoring of it—but she kept her silence, watching him the way a rabbit observed a coyote from its hiding spot in the tall weeds. How would she ever get out of this one? His belt was open, he'd removed his shoes and socks, and now he was in the midst of sliding his trousers down over his hips. He really was going to strip in front of her. Shylo quickly averted her gaze.

  "Since you've yet to begin undressing," he said, his voice more velvety and melodic than before, his accent thicker, "may I assume that you'd prefer I did it for you?"

  "I—no."

  Forgetting the state of undress he might be in, Shylo turned back to him and, in spite of her fears, found herself feasting on the sight of Dimitri's bare chest. The dark curls scattered there rose and fell gently as he breathed, leading her gaze down a narrow path of those same coils until they stopped at the waistband of his drawers. Her eyes skimmed the pouchlike protrusion at his groin, then returned there again and again. Something was amiss. That pouch of light blue lamb's wool seemed to be swelling and changing shape before her very eyes. When it finally occurred to her what must have been happening, Shylo couldn't contain a gasp of surprise.

  "Thank you for the compliment," he said, starting for her. "Now if you'll be so kind as to afford me the pleasure of reacting to your charms..."

  He reached for the top button of her sateen jersey, and Shylo's hands flew to his fingers. "Don't," she said, gripping them tightly. "Please, don't."