Phoenix paused on the threshold, his features softening. "No one will come into this cabin without my permission. You'll be safe here."

She shook her head in denial. Her hands began to shake as they clutched his shirt against her chest, the garment still warm from his body and scented of his skin. "Don't leave me."

"I must go," he replied gently. "I have to give orders to my crew, secure your ship, and locate your belongings." He frowned. "Where is the proxy?"

"It was returned to England with the solicitor immediately after the signing."

"Who signed for me?"

Olivia started at his angry tone, and the first seeds of doubt entered her mind. "Lord Dunsmore," she answered softly.

His eyes narrowed. "And you didn't find it odd that your husband didn't come for you himself? You never wondered why he was unable, or unwilling, to at least sign the proxy even if he couldn't be bothered to marry you properly?"

Her bottom lip quivered at his sudden vehemence, and she bit it to hide the betraying movement. But Phoenix was too perceptive. With a muttered oath, he came back to her. His thumb brushed across her mouth, freeing her lip from her teeth. His gaze remained anchored to the spot where he had touched her. Olivia couldn't breathe. Her lip burned.

"You are a beautiful and desirable woman," he murmured. "Why settle for marriage with a man sight unseen?"

"I'd hardly call marrying a marquess 'settling,'" she whispered against his thumb.

He stiffened, and dropped his hand from her. "For the title, then."

Olivia shook her head. The title was important to her father. All she'd ever wanted in a marriage was passion, like her parents were reputed to have had. "It was my father's wish that I marry Lord Merrick. I could not defy him."

She was all that her father had. To disappoint him or sadden him was more than she could bear.