Impulse

You quickly find yourself trapped between the commanding figure and a proximal bulkhead. The warmth from your blush spreads through your entire form when you feel his hand slip behind your waist. Logic would tell you to attempt halting his brazen actions, after all, you are still technically betrothed. However, the more you dwell on that thought the less you find yourself caring. In fact, when you try to think about your faceless fiancé you are left with nothing but spite and vitriol. After all, what kind of man would agree to such a haphazard engagement only to show up late and allow his wife-to-be to be captured by pirates. The kind of man who seemingly has a personal vendetta with one of the many scalawags who stalk across the open sea. Speaking of which, you also cannot imagine what type of man results from drifting from port to port with nowhere real left to call home save the ship they commandeer.

"They warned me about my wedding night." You mumble absentmindedly when you feel a tug at the clasps holding the fragments of your dress together.

"We are not married." The pirate's actions pause momentarily and you can feel his gaze upon you though you do not dare look up.

"Are we not?" The words are a barely audible whisper, nearly drowned out by the torment outside. Clearing your throat, you **** yourself to raise your chin and meet the man's inquisitive stare. "Or are you not Sir Arden?"

"You know I am not." Any hint of amusement leaves your captors face at the mention of the Admiral's name.

"I did not think you looked like an 'Alistair'." The volume of your voice raises slightly to ensure you are heard over the din as rain continues to pelt the side of the ship. "I believe I am owed your name, whether we are wedded or not."

The marauder pulls away, causing your now unclasped dress to fall free. In spite of the increased blush this brings, you keep your eyes fixed on the man before you. To your relief, or perhaps slight chagrin, he holds your gaze rather than taking in your freshly revealed form.

"What is a name worth?" He inquires in a low tone, the look in his eyes a mix of amusement and impatience. "What is it worth to you?"

"Are we bargaining, Captain?" You fail to stifle the slight tug at your lips after speaking the title.

To your confusion, you are met with a smile in return rather than the anger or annoyance you had anticipated. You stiffen reflexively when a rough finger begins tracing down your exposed neck.

"Rest assured, I am the Captain." He assures, his deep tone regaining its commanding air as he leans down towards you. "However, be warned it is exactly that kind of doubt that resulted in your stay here."

"So why do you not finish the job?"

"Is that an invitation?" The smile broadens as you feel his fingertips reach the soft crest of your bosom. "I had thought to be a gentleman, yet, I am finding that arrangement increasingly difficult to abide by."

"I did not think pirates were capable of being gentlemen-" You begin to scoff before gasping in surprise when the man's hand quickly finds its way around your delicate neck. Breathing in deeply, you steady your nerves before addressing him again. "Now that seems more appropriate for your kind."

"Be still your tongue woman." The man hisses, his umber eyes flashing irately before he appears to calm himself. "You speak of me and my kind, yet are incapable of self-reflection. I doubted the arrangement at first but now see you and your fiancé are indeed a smart match."

"Please, do not say such things." You cannot help wincing visibly despite the man releasing his grip and pulling away.

"You said you did not know your fiancé." He remarks, his large figure still looming over you. "Why then do you care what I think of him?"

"That is precisely why. I do not know him." You sigh, feeling the weight of the day's events beginning to settle. "Yet this arrangement was predetermined, without my knowledge or consent. I do not care if others think it will be a good match, only whether I believe it will be so. And I do not like being beholden to a faceless stranger I have yet to meet. Instead I seem to find myself beholden to a nameless stranger..."

"What would you have me do about this?" The man questions, seemingly slightly taken aback by your candor.

"Let us be strangers no more."