Marrying Miss Shylo by Sharon Ihle

Author:Sharon Ihle
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ePublishing Works!
Published: 2017-05-09T00:00:00+00:00

Part 2

A little inaccuracy sometimes saves a ton of explanation.

—Saki

Chapter 11

When Dimitri and entourage finally arrived at the terminal at the foot of D Street on the thirtieth of June, San Diego's weather patterns were running true to form, despite the circulars he had read. Not only did they tout San Diego as a "Cornucopia of the World," they described it as "a sun-drenched community with a mild climate, even in January and February." To the contrary, the dirt streets were sodden from recent rains and the skies overcast and dreary.

But the gloomy weather didn't bother Dimitri in the slightest. In fact, it matched his increasingly sullen mood. His only concern was for Shylo, who, dressed in her flimsy lawn gown, shivered in the damp, cold city. He could think of several ways to warm her, none of them mentionable in public, but there were at least as many chores to take care of first. He could only hope that the main cause of the foul mood he was in—unrequited lust—would finally "be put to bed" at the end of this long day.

Due to the fact that the extra-fare sleeping berths had all been booked, Dimitri and his new bride had been forced to sleep on their first-class seats the past two nights, chairs that converted to comfortable sleeping cots but were hardly private enough for the beginning of a honeymoon. He'd been a married man for over three days now and had yet to find a private moment alone with his wife.

If that wasn't frustration enough, once they disembarked in San Diego Dimitri had gone to the baggage department to collect Shylo's trunk, only to be informed that it had not arrived, and there was no record suggesting that it was on its way. Apparently, the baggage handler informed him, it had been sent elsewhere by mistake. Since Shylo told him her claim ticket had been lost during the robbery, there was no way to trace it, either, so once again she was left with only the clothing on her back—a situation he would have to remedy before she caught her death of cold.

The first bright spot in the day came when they stopped by the telegraph office. Dimitri's funds had arrived from Greece, so they were financially set for a while, anyway. Next up on the list of things to do was the search for a suitable hotel. Several townsfolk they asked—from the baggage clerk at the depot to the teller at the California National Bank, where he'd collected his money—insisted that the finest lodging in San Diego could be found under the red roofs and crisp white walls of the newly opened Hotel Del Coronado.

Dimitri balked at that idea. The elaborate structure was located across the bay on the island of Coronado, and the only way to reach it was by ferry boat. That would be a time-consuming, needless expenditure, especially because he hoped to accomplish their goals quite quickly.

Dimitri had no desire to spend more than

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