Ship of Dreams Read Online Free

he said, though he didn't see at all. A thousand questions fought for supremacy but before one could win, she was speaking again.
    "Now that we're nearly three hours out from San Francisco, I should be safe enough. We can explain to everyone that it was all a hoax, and I can buy a steerage ticket for the remainder of the trip." She smiled brilliantly, clearly expecting everything to be forgiven.
    He shook his head. "I'm afraid it's not that easy. For one thing, I overheard the steward say that the ship, including steerage, is full to capacity. I doubt they can find you a berth. More importantly, recanting your story now will make me look a fool—or worse—to some very important business associates."
    In fact, if he admitted to such a hoax, they would assume he was just like his feckless brother. His potential investors would dry up, and his new business venture would die before it began.
    But Della waved his arguments aside. "Oh, don't worry about me. Steerage quarters can be cramped, I know, but I'll manage to squeeze in somewhere, I'm sure. As for your friends on board, surely you can tell them it was a joke. Put all the blame on me, if you like. I'll be careful to stay away from everyone I've met so far, so as not to risk contradicting whatever story you see fit to put about."
    "I fear I'm not nearly so facile a liar as yourself, Miss Gilley." Kenton felt his jaw tighten at her effrontery. "Nor will these people appreciate having been tricked. I have no wish to alienate them." He literally could not afford to, in fact.
    "But—" She fluttered her hands in confusion.
    "No," he continued, ruthlessly ignoring her distress—and her loveliness. "We shall simply have to continue as we have begun. You will pose as my wife for the remainder of this voyage."
     
     
    *             *             *
     

 
     
    CHAPTER 3
     
    Till noon we quietly sailed on,
    Yet never a breeze did breathe:
    Slowly and smoothly went the ship,
    Moved onward from beneath.
     
    —Samuel Taylor Coleridge
    The Rime of the Ancient Mariner
     
     
    Della stared at him, aghast. Was the man mad? "Surely you're not serious!" Despite her best efforts, her voice sounded shrill to her own ears. "I can't stay here with you. That wasn't what I'd planned at all!"
    Mr. Bradford shrugged, broad shoulders rippling powerfully under the fine black twill of his coat. "You should have thought of that before imposing yourself upon me in this manner. You've been so convincing, the others would think me the most heartless man alive if I were to banish you to steerage now. You'll either play along for the balance of the trip, or I'll inform the Captain that we have an accused murderess in our midst. I imagine your quarters then would be rather more unpleasant than those in steerage."
    She sucked in her breath, then regarded him closely, ignoring as best she could his masculine presence, which seemed to fill the small room. No, she didn't think he was bluffing. Just as well she'd thought better of giving him her real name! Quite a few passengers must have been questioned about a Miss Gilliland, and there was no telling what story the police had given about her supposed "crimes."
    She tried another tack. "Do you really want me sharing your stateroom for the next two weeks? It's fairly obvious that you don't even like me."
    "No, I don't." She wondered whether he referred to her question or her statement. "But I consider it the least of various evils, under the circumstances."
    Della relaxed marginally. "Then I presume that our, ah, roles will only be played out in public, not in private?" She couldn't think of a more delicate way to ask the question that most preyed on her mind.
    His mouth twisted in a mockery of a smile. "I don't intend to take advantage of the situation, or of you, Miss Gilley. Your virtue—such as it is—is safe enough. Perhaps I should seek the same assurance from you."
    "How insufferable!" she flared. "Handsome you may be, Mr.