"I, James Carter," the captain's firm voice rang out over the deck of the ship, drawing everyone's attention, including mine, to the couple, "take thee, Adaira Louise Jannet Melanie Georgette Ambrose, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth."

Eyes filled with determination, Adaira lifted her hand, intertwined with his, and pressed it against the spot where her heart was beating.

"I, Adaira Louise Jannet Melanie Georgette Ambrose, take thee, James Carter, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I give thee my troth."

A blinding smile spread across the tanned face of Captain James Carter, as if the sun had just risen over the horizon and spread light through a dark and dreary world. The answering smile from Adaira was so filled with pure, unadulterated happiness that it almost hurt to look at. And yet, I noticed, Mr Ambrose didn't take his eyes off it, and her, for a single moment. And that soft look in his eyes...

Oh my. Was he happy for her? What excellent blackmail material!

I was distracted from my future evil plans by Captain Carter pulling a ring out of his pocket. For a moment, I wondered where the heck he had gotten a ring from in this place—until I saw Granny Aatifa wink at me. Then she turned to Karim and threw him a "See? I'm such a good mother and even provide help and equipment. Why can't you get married already?" kind of look.

Karim studiously inspected his sabre.

"With this ring," Carter spoke as he gently lifted his bride's hand, "I thee wed. With my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow."

"As pitiful as they are," Mr Ambrose muttered. "Damnable pauper."

I stepped on his foot.

"In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost," the captain finished the traditional words. "Amen."

Then both he and Adaira turned towards my dear husband with hopeful looks on their faces. As for my husband? Well, he, right at this moment, had a truly wonderful non-expression on his face. He looked like a stone statue who had just been given taste buds, only to be force-fed a bucket of castor oil. I had to suppress the urge to snicker, because I knew exactly why. I knew what was coming.

The looks on the couple's faces became even more hopeful. More expectant. Mr Ambrose's face, on the other hand, turned even more stony, except for a certain muscle in his cheek that twitched spasmodically.

For a long moment, he remained silent.

A really, really, long moment.

Then he finally forced his clenched teeth apart and, in a voice that left no doubt he was acting under duress, said:

"Then, before God and this company, and against my better judgement, I pronounce you man and wife. You may...peck the bride on the cheek. Chastely."

Immediately, Adaira grabbed Captain Carter by the ears, dragged him down towards her and laid a kiss on his lips that was as far from chaste as it was possible to get without tapdancing on a table in your underwear. Out of the corner of my eye, I glanced at my dear husband, who had stiffened into a block of ice. Somehow, I didn't think he agreed with her interpretation of the word "chaste".

Cheers exploded from all around. The sailors, who had once more emerged on deck, threw their hats into the air. Granny Aatifa wiped tears from the corners of her eyes and elbowed her son to give him some motivation. Most people present—with the exception of a certain stony business mogul—couldn't keep a smile off their faces at this scene. And, to be honest, neither could I.

With a face-splitting grin, I leaned over towards my dear husband and, out of the corner of my mouth, whispered, "Now I think it's your turn to say, 'Let us Pray'. Not that I think they'd listen."

A muscle in his cheek twitched. Poor muscle. It must have been an exhausting day. "I don't know about us. But you should most certainly pray, Mrs Ambrose. Pray I don't get my hands on you. After all, I still vividly remember who talked me into this."

"That's not the only thing you seem to vividly remember." Squinting up at him, I pointed at the log book in his hand. "Don't think I didn't notice what this thing really is. How exactly did you pull that off? Do you have a book of common prayer hidden up your sleeve?"

"No."

"Then what?" I cocked my head, confused. "You have the entire wedding ceremony of the Anglican church memorised?"

Taking my chin between two fingers, he turned my head until I had no choice but to meet his deep, dark, icy eyes. "Before this, I already took part in one wedding, didn't I? I never forget important things. Especially the most important."

Suddenly, my knees felt like butter. Warm butter, which melted in the warmth that was rising inside me.

"It occurs to me," my husband murmured in a low voice that sent a shiver down my spine, "that if that son of a bachelor Carter gets to kiss the woman of his dreams tonight, I cannot lag behind, now, can I?"

I swallowed. "A-absolutely not. Mr Rikkard Ambrose can never lose to the competition."

"Indeed."

Then, before I could say another word, he leaned down towards me and claimed my mouth in a ferocious kiss. I felt happiness blooming in my heart like never before. Because, now, I hadn't just been reunited with my family, but expanded it. And it would never again be torn apart.

"You are correct. I will never lose to anyone," a certain icy voice entered my ear, as if my mind had been read. "Especially not when it comes to you. I'll make sure of it!"

"That's adequate to hear." Beaming from ear to ear, I hugged my husband. "Now, there's only one thing left to do to make this day perfect."

He cocked his head. "That being?"

"Adaira!"

I winked and jerked my head in a certain direction. My dear sister-in-law saw the pre-arranged signal, and without hesitation, chucked her bouquet over her shoulder. With unerring accuracy, it flew through the air and slammed into Karim's startled face. The eyes of several strategically placed young women who had been invited from a nearby village on the island were immediately drawn to Karim's impressive figure. The poor man's eyes widened and he took a step back—or at least tried to. His mother's grip on his lapels stopped him cold, however.

"Now, where do you think you're going?" she smiled. "This is a happy event. Let's enjoy it, shall we?"

Then she gave a thumbs up to Adaira and myself, and dragged Karim towards his doom...ehem, I mean, towards the candidates we had carefully prepared.

Adaira and I shared a triumphant grin. Brushing a few remaining loose petals off her dress, she once more turned towards her brand-new husband, flung her arms around his neck and laid another kiss on him that was far too French for a proper young English lady. But right then and there, she didn't seem to give a flying fig.

And to be honest, neither did I.

Without hesitation, I grabbed hold of Mr Rikkard Ambrose.

"Mrs Ambrose, you—mmmphhh!"

"Haven't you heard, Mr Ambrose, Sir?" I whispered against his lips. "Silence is golden."

Then I reclaimed his mouth and started to kiss the life out of him. He reciprocated fiercely, and by the time we separated, I was breathless and gasping for air.

Didn't stop me from what I was about to do, though.

"Oy!" Half-turning my head and cupping both hands around my mouth, I called out to the sailors. "Everyone! Weigh anchor and set sail!"

My husband blinked as the sailors jumped into action. "Mrs Ambrose...you do realise that Karim's mother, her family, and an entire village full of islanders are still aboard this ship, don't you?"

"Oh, I know." A broad grin spread across my face. "You just invited them all to an all-expenses-paid holiday."

That familiar muscle in his cheek twitched. "Did I, now?"

"Of course!" Standing on tiptoes to throw an arm around his neck, I blinked up at him. "After a wedding, there always comes a honeymoon. You know the kinds of things couples get up to during a honeymoon. Think about it, don't you want to have some reliable people to spy on—ehem, I mean to watch over your little sister to make sure that scoundrel Carter keeps his hands to himself?"

He suddenly had a thoughtful look in his eyes. "You have a point." Suddenly, his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "That does not, however, explain why we have all of them onboard."

Drat. He noticed that, did he?

Reaching out, I gently touched the cheek of the peacefully sleeping baby, who was resting in a cradle a foot or two away. "Do you really think I would leave the woman who cared for and protected my son for so long dangerously close to a warzone? Or her family and friends, for that matter?"

"No." For a long moment, he gazed down at Berty, who was resting in a cradle not far away, then looked up at me with an intense gleam in his eyes. With one hand, he cupped my cheek. "No, I suppose you wouldn't."

"Oh, and I also really wanted to watch you spend lots of extra money," I added as an afterthought. "That's always fun."

That overworked muscle in his cheek twitched. "Yes. Yes, I suppose you would. Speaking of 'fun'..."

"Um...yes?"

"We have yet to discuss your marvellous idea of having me conduct the wedding of my little sister to...that person."

Uh-oh...

"Err...silence is golden, remember? How about we postpone the discussion?"

"I don't think so. Not today."

That didn't sound good.

"Ehem, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go and—"

A hand closed around my arm. "Not so fast."

"Now, look here, you can't just—"

That was all I managed to get out before he started dragging me towards one of the ship's cabins. To be precise, our cabin, with our bed inside of it. Oh my. When he said 'discussion', he surely didn't mean...?

"Mr Ambrose!" I hissed. "What are you doing? We can't just—"

"Watch me."

The door to our cabin was kicked open. A moment later, I found myself pulled inside and manoeuvred up against the king-sized bed that took up almost the entire room.

"W-we can't!" I whispered. "Not today! What about Adaira and—"

"Oh," he growled, stalking towards me, "I think she'll be too busy tonight to be interested in what we are doing."

"Err..."

Well, he was probably right about that.

"Which means I will have to keep myself busy, too, lest I think too much about the fact that my little sister is going to do...that tonight, and I go over there to rip that son of a bachelor to shreds and throw his remnants overboard."

Ah. Yes, he was probably right about that as well.

"So..." Entangling his fingers in my hair, he pulled me towards him. There was as much pleading as there was command in his voice, and my heart melted. "Come here!"

***

Adaira stood at the prow of the ship, gazing at the sunset, her hair and clothes fluttering in the wind. Yet, despite the stiff breeze, she didn't feel the least bit cold.

Why?

Well, it probably had something to do with the pair of strong arms wrapped around her from behind, holding her in a warm embrace.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" she whispered, gazing at the sea shining like fire in the setting sun.

"Is this the point where I say something like 'Yes, you are' while gazing longingly at you?" Two warm, dark brown eyes blinked down at her with far too much innocence. "I wouldn't want to fail my duty as a dashing romantic hero."

Without hesitation, Adaira squashed his toes under her heel. Or at least she tried to. Military boots were bloody tough!

"Aah!" he exclaimed mournfully. "You wound my heart!"

"It wasn't your heart I was aiming for!"

"Too bad." He moved like lightning. In a blink, he had whirled her around and lifted her hand to his lips. "Because it's your heart I am aiming for, and always will be."

Adaira suddenly felt a lump rising in her throat.

Goddammit! How can anyone make a girl's heart race like this with just a look and a few words? That should be illegal!

"You already have it," she whispered.

"Good to hear." Suddenly, his gaze intensified, and where there had previously been warmth, there was now sizzling heat. "If I have your heart already...then I suppose it's time for me to do my husbandly duty and take the rest of you."

What was he talking about? How could he take—?

Oh.

Oh!

He smirked. Adaira opened her mouth—but before she had the chance to speak, she felt her legs being swept out from under her as she was lifted into a princess carry, causing her to let out a startled squawk.

"Waah?!"

"No, my name is James. Although I wouldn't mind the nickname, as long as you explain to other people how I got it."

"You...you...!"

"...wonderful, charming man?"

"Rogue! Blaggard!"

"Please, praise me more."

With a completely shameless smirk on his face, Captain James Carter strode off towards a door leading to a nearby cabin. Someone—cough, cough, Granny Aatifa, cough—had decorated the doorframe in tropical flowers and heart-shaped paper cutouts. That made it pretty much clear to Adaira what the cabin's purpose was. She felt her cheek's heat, and she could have sworn she saw the smirk of the bastard who was carrying her widen. Why did she marry him again?

Because you love him.

Ah, yes. That's why.

The door to the cabin swung open. There was a carpet of flowers leading into the room straight into the romantic half-light of the—

Adaira's thoughts were abruptly interrupted by an odd noise. A rhythmic squeaking sound from the cabin next door that she couldn't quite place.

"What's that noise?" she asked.

"Oh..." There was that bloody, lovable smirk on his face again. "It's a sound I'm fairly certain you'll be able to recognize soon."

Then he carried her over the threshold into their cabin. As he stepped into the dark cabin illuminated only by a few candles, the shape of a large bed appeared out of the shadows at the end of the flowery carpet, and she felt herself being lowered onto the soft mattress.

Squeak.

Oh.

Oh my.

That sound...

Adaira felt herself flush, a sudden realisation coming over her. Opposite her, that blasted son of a bachelor she married had the audacity to grin even more widely than before.

"Ah, yes. As I said, you will soon be familiar with that sound. Very, very familiar."

"Come here and let me strangle you!"

"Oh no! Please be gentle, it's my first time."

"You...you...!"

"...love me?" A gentle hand cupped her cheek. "Don't worry, I already knew that."

She felt her face heat again—and, this time, neither in embarrassment nor anger. She parted her lips to respond—only to find her words blocked by a gentle kiss.

"Well, what a coincidence," he whispered. "Because I happen to love you as well. And we will have the rest of our lives to spend together."

"Forever?" The soft question slipped past Adaira's lips before she could help herself.

"Forever," he vowed. "To have..." Reaching out, he tugged on the strings that held her dress together. With a soft sound, it fell to the ground. A pair of strong arms enfolded her in a tight embrace. "...and to hold."

"From this day forward..." Adaira couldn't help but smile as she uttered the words she would never forget.

"...for better or for best."

"Isn't that 'for worse'?"

"As if, with you by my side, things could ever be bad." With one leisurely movement, he shrugged out of his uniform jacket and started unbuttoning his dress shirt. Adaira swallowed as a hint of sleek, gleaming muscles came into view. "And I can promise that life by my side won't be too bad, either."

His shirt fluttered to the ground.

Adaira's mouth went dry.

Holy...! How could Lilly ever have picked her annoying stony statue of a brother over this man? It was a complete mystery to her. Not that she was unhappy about it. Quite the contrary, in fact.

"...for richer or for poorer." He stepped towards her. "In sickness and in health." Another step. "To love." With one last step, he crossed the remaining bit of distance and, taking her hand, placed it against his chest. His bare chest, just above where she could feel his heart beat. "And to cherish."

Adaira swallowed. "Till death do us part."

"Let's hope that's still a long way off." A featherlight kiss brushed against her forehead. "I plan to hold onto you for a long time yet."

Closing her eyes, Adaira luxuriated in the touch of his lips. "How about you never let me go?"

A deep chuckle rumbled through his chest. "Sounds good to me."

The touch of his lips vanished. Adaira opened her eyes, only to see him stare down at her with fierce intensity.

"So, how does it go next?" One corner of the captain's mouth quirked up and he moved Adaira's hand from where it was still pressed against his heart, down towards his abdomen. Adaira shivered with newfound delight as she felt hard muscles beneath her fingertips, and then, as he moved further down, she felt something even harder. "With my body I thee worship?"

"I think you jumped over a fair bit," she managed to squeeze out. Why did her voice end up sounding like a mixture between a whisper and a croak?

He smirked, and she felt the muscles beneath her fingers flex. "Would you rather I talk about plighting you my troth?"

"No thanks, I'm good."

"No," he corrected her as he grasped her face between both his hands. "You're perfect."

Then he kissed her. Hard. Her breath was stolen away in a blink, and then her mind went along with it. Bliss. She felt total, utter bliss. And more than that, she felt...safe. Safe and secure in the grasp of the man to whom she had lost her heart.

When he finally broke the kiss, there was fire in his eyes. Fire and desire.

"Tell me," he growled, "what did you swear?"

"T-to have and to hold—"

"Not that."

"T-to love?"

"Try again."

Adaira swallowed. "To...obey?"

"Correct, my lady wife." His eyes flashed. "Now...clothes. Off."

Never in her life had Adaira felt inclined to obey a man like a good little lady. But tonight? With him?

Hell yes!

With a soft sound of cloth, the first of her undergarments hit the floor. Resisting the urge to cover herself, she started in on the laces of her corset, hard to reach though they were. Judging by the look in his eyes, she wasn't moving fast enough.

"Allow me."

It wasn't a request.

Feeling more nervous than ever before in her life, including the time she had faced down half a dozen evil gunmen, Adaira turned around, offering her back to a man. Leaving herself vulnerable.

But, no. This wasn't just any man. It was her man. Captain James Carter. The man whose roguish smiles made her heart pound. The man who had stood by her no matter what. The man who had not run off when facing her brother.

He had not run off when facing her brother!

Important things bore repeating. Especially when they made her feel warm inside.

Strong but gentle fingers touched her back, where laces held her corset together. Laces that were being loosened at this very moment. Then, Adaira's corset slipped away, and she suddenly felt cold. And yet, at the same time, an indescribably hot fire seemed to rise inside her, which shouldn't have been bloody possible!

But then again...

Turning back to face Captain Carter and gazing up into his roguishly handsome face, she asked herself—why had she ever expected this man wouldn't make the impossible possible?

His cocky smile certainly said he could. And would, for her.

"You're beautiful," he murmured.

"And you," she told him, gathering all her courage to meet his fiery eyes, "are wearing far too many clothes."

"Couldn't agree more."

A moment later, his belt hit the cabin floor with a thunk. The both of them reached out at the same time, tugging off what little remained of their clothing at an increasingly frantic pace. By the time they had lost everything but her last thin layer of cloth, he had also lost his patience.

Rrrrrip!

Adaira swallowed, suddenly feeling incredibly vulnerable. "James..."

In response, he once again swept her up in his arms in a princess carry and held her close against his chest. Warmth and security spread through Adaira. Suddenly, she felt like all the worries in the world were gone—because she was in his arms, and she was floating on clouds. Worries were for those still bound to the ground.

Gently, Captain Carter stepped forward and deposited her on the mattress that was as soft as a swan's feathers. Heart pounding in her chest, Adaira watched as her man bent over her and pressed a gentle kiss onto her lips. When they separated again, his gaze was firm and filled with desire. It told her the time had come.

"Now..."

"Y-yes?"

"Let's show your brother how to really make a bed creak, shall we?"

She punched his shoulder. "You...you...!"

"...are not nervous anymore, are you?"

"That's because now I'm pissed off!"

He kissed her again. Hard. Long.

"How about now? Still angry?"

"Nmmmh..."

"Oh my. Seems that you've lost both your anxiety and your words." He smirked. "Now, time to take your breath away as well."

Then he drew her towards him, and the night really began.

-------------------------------------------

My dear Readers,

The penultimate chapter of "The Final Storm". Only one is left. I'm feeling a little bit emotional (despite Mr Ambrose's stern disapproval). But this will definitely not be the end of my writing. A new project is already in the works! :)

Yours Truly

Sir Rob