The Missing

the details of the wedding night on his own. Taige hadn’t much cared what they did, as long as she was with him, but she’d expected a hotel or some private little cabin.
    Not this slick, sweet little number that had been decorated with flowers, rose petals, and huge swathes of some gauzy, wispy fabric. Discreet little lights cast a faint golden glow, and overhead, the stars sparkled like a thousand diamonds in the sky.
    “We going anywhere, Captain?” she asked brightly. All of a sudden, she felt really nervous—and shy. Now how stupid was that? It wasn’t like they’d never been alone before. It wasn’t like they’d never had sex before—although they hadn’t ever done it on a boat.
    They hadn’t been together at all since before Taige had gotten shot and Cullen had killed her uncle. The few weeks that followed, she’d been healing up from her injuries. Then when she’d tried to start anything between them, he’d pulled back. The first time, he had laughingly said that she had to make an honest man out of him.
    She hadn’t taken him seriously and thought he was still worrying she wasn’t up to it. But then he’d presented her with an engagement ring that next night over a romantic little picnic on the beach. Well, it had been intended to be romantic, but then Jillian had shown up, Robert trailing after her with an apologetic smile.
    Cullen had proposed to her with his daughter playing in the sand ten feet away and his father crouched in the surf hunting for shells. She’d said yes without hesitating, and then she’d leaned in with a suggestive whisper. But he’d told her no.
    Now, she was damn nervous, and the longer he waited, the worse it was going to get. Romance, nice as it was, just wasn’t something she was comfortable with. But obviously Cullen didn’t have a problem with it, she mused as he closed the distance between them and pulled her into his arms.
    He moved her around to some unheard music, staring down at her like she was the only thing in his world. “You look nervous,” he said.
    “Wow. You’re observant,” she said sarcastically and then she winced. “Sorry. I sound like such a bitch. I’m just . . .”
    Cullen laughed and said, “Nervous?” He didn’t wait for an answer before he kissed her.
    “Hmmmm . . . nervous about what?” she asked when he lifted his head a few minutes later. Not nervous at all, just very, very hungry. Lowering her gaze to his lips, she wiggled her hips a little and said, “You must be good for my state of mind. I feel a lot better now.”
    He trailed a hand up her side, finding the hidden zipper in the side seam of her dress. “You’re getting ready to feel even better than that, I promise.”
    “Better than this?” As he lowered his head to kiss her bare shoulder, she sighed dreamily. “Damn, does it get better than this?”
    He tugged the zipper down and leaned back, watching as her dress fell to her waist, lingered on her hips for a second, and then fell the rest of the way to the deck. Under it, she wore nothing but a thong of ivory silk. The strapless bra the seamstress had tried to force her into had been sheer hell on her healing wounds, so she had gone without. The dress had been designed to work without a bra as well as with one, and Taige was much in favor of not wearing it.
    His eyes slid down her face, fastening on her naked breasts. “A lot better,” he muttered hoarsely. “It just got a lot better for me, at least.” Bending his knees, he dipped down and slid an arm around her waist. When he straightened, her body weight was supported by the arm at her waist, and the hard length of him pressed against her front.
    “You’re wearing too many clothes,” she whispered against his lips.
    With a pained groan, he said, “Self-preservation. A wedding night should be romantic, right?”
    Taige looked around at the flowers, the soft lights, the privacy of the beautiful little yacht. “I think you already hit the romance quota, Cullen. Besides . . . I don’t need romance. I only need you.”
    His eyes flashed hot—so hot her skin seemed to sizzle.
    Cullen stared down at her beautiful face and felt his heart clench. The sincerity in her eyes, the need that shook her voice, it was enough to lay a strong man low—and he wasn’t feeling particularly strong in that moment.
    “I love you,” he muttered, sliding a hand up her naked back, over her neck, and then fisting it in her hair. His mouth covered hers as he carried