by Kresley Cole
She leaned over the rail. He worried, even though he knew he shouldn't. She had shown again and again how perfectly she walked the ship. So why was he storming across the deck?
As he approached her, he could hear her calling enticingly down the side of the ship, cooing down at the water.
"He-ere fishy, fishy. He-ere fishy."
His lips twitched.
"Fishy want a tow?" she asked playfully, bowing over the side of the ship.
When he reached her, he looked out to see a shark diving and swirling around her bait as if trying to decide about it.
"How will you get that thing aboard?" he asked. "It looks to be quite large."
She didn't appear surprised that he was there. She gave him an impatient sigh and pointedly glanced at the rod and reel she held. Speaking in slow tones as though answering a small child, she said, "When the fish takes the bait, I will begin to turn this crank until it's raised to the deck. It's magic," she breathed sarcastically.
"Fine, fine," he said with a grin. "He just seems a little large for you to reel in."
Irritation made her face tight. "I have taken a lot from you, and I'm so tired of you always underestimating--" She didn't get any further because the tip of the rod was now pointing straight down and jerking her forward.
"Damn and blast you, Sutherland!"
But he was already behind her, with one hand grabbing the back of her trousers and the other reaching over her for the rod. He steadied it against the first surprise she'd had and held it as she wound the crank. And grew amazed. She repeatedly, expertly let out line before quickly reeling it back in. She knew how to tire the shark, so it would be easier for her to pull him in.
He'd always been curious about how she'd survived in the ruthless world of sailing, and he thought her actions here were an insight. She might not have great physical strength, but he'd wager she always found ways around that.
Although he felt unneeded, he stood behind her, grabbing the rod if she got a tug, receiving a glare over her shoulder each time.
Nothing could have moved Derek at that moment. He basked in the scent of her hair in the cold air and how her body warmed his front when he wrapped his arms around her. He caught himself thinking that he should prolong this as much as possible, but he could feel her body tiring.
Surprisingly, she'd gotten the shark to the side, but looking at its size, he didn't believe she could haul it aboard by herself. He peremptorily took the rod from her, braving her initial one-handed slaps and pushes. He finished reeling the flailing shark up to where a crewman had a grappling pole ready.
When their catch lay safely on the deck, his gaze locked with hers. Then, seeming discomfited, she turned her attention to the thrashing beast, kneeling down to scan it with a wide-eyed scrutiny.
He could feel her exhilaration. She'd probably caught a hundred of them, but her eyes were snapping and bright with excitement, her lips unconsciously drawn up at the corners. And she blushed, probably after noticing the way he kept watching her.
He knelt on the other side and couldn't resist asking, "Still think you could have taken him?"
She blew a curl out of her face. "I admit, if I'd hooked it off my own ship, I would have cut line and fished for smaller."
He smiled, and could swear an answering smile shaded her lips. She stared at his face, then his lips, before appearing flustered and looking down.
Without warning, he grabbed her by the hand and pulled her up. He tugged her toward his cabin, past the seemingly uninterested deckhands, only pausing to tell Jeb to have the catch cleaned for dinner.
He'd been pleased just to be near her this morning, to share her company. After this calm weather they were enjoying, they'd probably encounter a storm before long and he'd be needed on deck soon, but holding her and then seeing her face flushed with pleasure had been too much. He wanted her. Needed her. Now.
However, he had a plan he wouldn't deviate from; he would be patient. He'd force himself to simply talk to her and possibly gain her trust.
He looked down and found her wide-eyed at his behavior. Damn it, his high-handedness had startled her. They'd had a rocky start, to say the least, and he needed to be careful with her. Easing his cabin door closed behind him, he politely motioned for her to sit with him. Seeming too curious to resist, she slowly removed her hat and edged onto the seat.
"There's been a...misunderstanding between us. I don't want to rehash it, but we need to come to some kind of terms," he said in a tone that was too commanding even to his own ears. Her face grew tight.
Excellent opening. Charming. No wonder she avoids you.
"Hmmm, misunderstanding." A shadow crossed her features. "You make it sound so light, when in fact it was hellish for me. Not knowing about my crew, mourning my ship." Her eyes glistened. "That ship was my home."
He moved to touch her, and though she shied away, he could swear it was less than before.
The look in her eyes tore at him.
"I spent a good portion of my life on the Bella Nicola and almost all of it with that crew. They were my family, since all I had was my father. And now, now it's worse," she said as she swiped away a tear that had fallen, "I know what you've done to them." Her voice grew choked. "Mutiny is a hanging offense."
Derek made a low growling sound as he stood. "If you are worried about your crew, I left orders for them to be freed a week after we sailed."
Her eyes opened wide, then narrowed in disbelief. "You ordered them...released?"
"I did." He saw her indecision. "I would've done it sooner, but I didn't want them to come after you." When her look of indecision began to fade, he said, "I swear to--" He didn't get a chance to finish because she was on him, stretching up to him, standing on her toes to get her arms around him. When he reached down to her, she grasped his head in both hands and planted smiling kisses all over his face and neck.
She drew back. "My crew's safe? They were released?"
He nodded. "Have you thought this whole time that I would have them tried for mutiny?"
She closed her eyes briefly.
"My God, you must have thought I was a monster," he said as he ran a hand over her hair. "I guess I didn't give you much reason to think otherwise."
"I do now," she said softly. "I can understand why you were so angry with me. It didn't look good. But, honestly, I was only back at the casks because I'd never seen iron drums up close."
He groaned and said in a low, chiding voice, "I can't believe you were spying in the first place."
"Well, there was that." She blushed. "But I never would have come if I didn't feel so attracted to you." She stood on her toes again to wind her hands in the hair on his nape. "And I've never regretted that night."
His brows drew together. He couldn't believe what he heard; he'd always wondered if she, like him, revisited that night. The knowledge that she did made him hunger even more for her, and he crushed her to him. Unlacing her thick braids, he threaded his fingers through her hair while running his lips down her neck. She gasped, then inhaled sharply.
Strangely, she went still, then backed away, grimacing at his chest. Absently raising a finger, she said simply, "Fish."
He glanced down at his own clothing to find transferred fish slime. With raised eyebrows, he looked up, and was answered with an endearing, sheepish smile.
He couldn't help but smile in return. "So there is. No harm done." He strode over to get fresh clothing. When he'd finished peeling off his outer layer and changing, he turned and caught her nibbling her bottom lip, hastily plucking scales from his sweater.
Grinning, he threw her a clean one. "We'll finish this tonight, sweet."
Nicole couldn't sleep with the stillness on the ocean this night. The fog, thick over the lifeless water, amplified every sound. It was that eerie stillness so absolute it presaged only the most violent weather. She dreaded another big storm, but to be honest, her anxiety tonight came not from the coming gale but from Sutherland.
He'd gone back topside today leaving her confused and wanting to sort out her powerful feelings. When he'd revealed he hadn't hurt her crew, she'd been floundering from her first glimpse of Sutherland's unreserved smile. Her flustered brain could formulate only one word. Devastating.
She thought he would make love to her tonight. While she was nervous about the actual act, she was calm about the ramifications of it. She'd realized today that her feelings for him went deeper than mere lust. She didn't know if she could call it love, but whatever gripped her was boundless in its strength.
The door opened and creaked closed. When Sutherland began undressing, even the mundane sounds of his disrobing made her skin tighten and heat pool between her legs. She couldn't stand another night of this; something had to give.
He'd taught her months ago what it was she desired, and now the craving, the wanting, wouldn't recede, only kept building. When he sank down next to her and put his arms around her, it took every ounce of will not to turn and place her lips and tongue against his skin.
He pulled her closer, and she worked to slow her breathing, but when his stiff arousal pulsed against her back, her breaths hitched in and panted out.
Tonight was different for him as well. Instead of lying tense beside her for half the night before exhaustion finally claimed him, he moved over her, and with a tiny flick of his tongue kissed the sensitive skin of her ear. She stifled a moan as her body trembled, quivered even more when he skimmed his lips down to where her shoulder met her neck.
What did it matter if he knew she was awake and wanted him? She couldn't hate him any longer. And without that barrier, she found her feelings rushing in a completely opposite direction. She couldn't stop this and didn't want to.
When he grazed the backs of his fingers over the night-shirt covering her nipple, she gasped with pleasure, but the sound made him take his hand away. She wanted to cry in frustration. So many nights like this, so much passion. Not another wasted second.
She grasped his arm behind her and brushed her fingers down it until she found his hand. Before she could lose her nerve, she placed it back on her breast. He sucked in a breath and groaned as he cupped her and thumbed her nipple.
She rubbed up against his front, gladdened by the hard feel of him, aroused by his manhood, impossibly still growing as it pressed against her. She moaned low in her throat. At once, he turned her on her back, covering her mouth and body with his own, moving his hips. When he raised himself on his arms, she looked down and saw his manhood thrust against her and then land over her belly again and again. The sculpted muscles above his groin and banded over his chest and shoulders strained, bulging under her grasping hands.
He dipped his head and ran his lips over her aching nipples, first one, then the other, wetting the cloth that covered them. It was too much. She couldn't stop her hips from rising to him. She even thought she might find that overwhelming pleasure at that second--she was so close.
"Nicole, I won't be able to stop after much longer. Tell me now, or I swear I'll take you," he bit out. This time instead of rubbing sinuously over her, his straining flesh caught against the juncture of her thighs, pushing into the cloth covering her, demanding entrance.
She shook her head back and forth. "No, I want you.... I want to finally feel you inside me."
He hissed in a breath at her words. "There's no turning back from this." He lowered his head again to her tight nipples.
"I feel like I'll die. Please..." she breathed as she undulated beneath him, opening her legs wide for him.
Whatever tenuous restraint he possessed snapped. He groaned, a brutal masculine sound, and ripped apart her shirt. She shook. Lord, his strength, his size--she responded to that latent power emanating from his body even as she feared it. If he was losing control as she was...
He teased her with his finger.
Lightly caressing her at first, then gradually stroking her inside, with one finger, then two, and nothing else mattered. Each time he drove into her with his fingers, his whole body rose up over her, his stiff manhood probing against her thigh, as if preparing her for what he was about to do.
But her body couldn't wait. That delicious pressure gathered within her until she went senseless, sobbing out his name, head thrashing...eventually feeling nothing but the cold air on her tight nipples and the powerful squeezing around his relentless fingers.
"Ah, God, Nicole, I feel you--I can't stop now," he said, his voice pained as he put a hand on each thigh and opened her legs wider to him. Her eyes soaked up his every movement. His neck, his arms, even the muscles in his jaw were set with tension. He fought so hard not to hurt her that he punished himself.
"Don't hold back, don't..." She raised her hands to his chest and drew her nails down his rock-hard torso. He shuddered. She boldly rose up and grasped his manhood, fascinated fingers smoothing over the taut velvet heat of his skin.
"Nicole, don't..."
He sounded in pain, but then he made the smallest thrusting movement against her palm and she continued exploring him. She thumbed the slit at the top, and his body jerked. Her eyes widened when the thick tip grew moist against the pad of her finger, and she moaned even before he did. He threw his head back as she continued to run curious fingers over him, running his length, cupping the heavy sack beneath, until he lowered his chin, his eyes coming back to bore into her own.
He pushed her down into the mattress, brushed her fingers away, and gripped himself. Slowly, with a shaking hand, he positioned his rod, running it up and down her flesh, making her even wetter. Hot with embarrassment, she turned her face from him.
"No, Nicole. You're perfect." He kneaded her thighs. "Tonight, I'll kiss you there and show you how much I love your response."
Her mouth opened wordlessly. Kiss her there...? She had only a second to wonder; then he pushed into her. The unyielding head was inside her, stretching her, coming to fulfill her. He withdrew and slowly pushed in farther.
"Oh, God. Please! Sutherland. More." How many times he did this she couldn't know, because the quickening pleasure gathered again....
But there was a sound from outside their cabin, dimly heard by her, a knocking, then a frantic hammering on the door. She didn't know how long someone had been outside and didn't care. Her mind was focused on the feelings cascading through her body. The tight feel of him just inside her. The coil in her belly, the beginning tremors inside...
Just when she thought he would give her all of himself, he pulled away and rose out of bed. He left her feeling empty, bereft, her body quaking.
"What the bloody hell is it?" he yelled--she had never heard him so angry. When he came back to her, he scooped up her unresisting body to enfold her on his lap. Beneath her bottom, he was hard, and she became confused, not understanding why he hadn't taken his pleasure with her.
He bent down and dropped a kiss in her hair before setting her on the side of the bed and standing. "Get your clothes on, love, and quickly." He ran his gaze down her flushed body and bit out a curse. "We've got trouble."
Chapter 19
T he battered Southern Cross limped its way toward Sydney. Split ribbons waved in the wind where sails had once been. A bystander would swear dead men littered the deck, so dazed was the crew by the events spanning the last interminable hours.
Derek thought of all the times he'd wished for a storm, a true test of him and his crew, and shook his head. If not for this last storm, he'd already have made Nicole his. He tried not to think of how close he'd been or how unimaginably perfect she'd felt. He'd managed for most of the storm, since he'd never had time to think of anything but survival.
The life or death of the Southern Cross had been down to the wire. He'd fought and had made his crew fight harder than he'd ever seen men struggle to stay alive. No one slept; it was a constant, grueling vigil. He looked down at his sliced palms and was sure he had lacerations over most of his body. Strange, he didn't feel the pain.
He knew and his men had no doubt as to what
had possessed him during the storm. He'd been a madman, making them struggle like animals for each quarter they could get from the waves and wind.
In the beginning, part of him had believed he'd lose his ship, and he'd labored instinctively out of the fear of death. Then he'd glanced down at Nicole. Down to where she'd disobeyed him to stand on deck. He'd seen such a blind trust in her eyes, a trust in him written everywhere in her pale face, that he'd been rocked by the force of it. She was telling him that she knew he'd protect her.
Now, he looked over to the bow where she strained to see Sydney, the hair outside her cap flowing behind her. He remembered how brave she'd been, and he recalled that he'd been proud of her. Wasn't that an emotion you saved for your family, pride in another? Yet when she'd pitched in and helped everyone, oftentimes pulling on the rigging right beside another sailor, he'd felt his chest swell. His memories were foggy after that. Hadn't his crew looked at her in wonder? Hadn't they secretly made sure some part of her was secured to the ship at all times?
"Ahoy there!" Jeb called out to an approaching fisherman, interrupting Derek's thoughts. "Any news of the Great Circle?"
"Aye," a sun-scalded man in the small dinghy answered. He pointed a finger toward Derek. "You Sutherland?"
Derek nodded, and the man called out, "Hate like hell to be the one to tell you this. The Desirade arrived here yesterday."
His jaw clenched. The Desirade was Tallywood's ship, and if he had to lose, he didn't want it to be to that worthless scrap of a man. Especially not when he suspected Tallywood of sabotage. Though he wanted to smash something, he forced himself to thank the fisherman.
He hadn't really cared about this race, but he'd found he wanted to impress Nicole by winning. He wanted to share the victory since she couldn't have it on her own.
He felt her place her hand on his arm. It was comforting to him that she understood his frustration. His voice was toneless even to his own ears as he said, "I thought I had him."
She uttered a quick, humorless laugh. "So did I."
Her comment put things into perspective. She'd lost everything, while he'd only lost a race. He vowed then that it wouldn't matter, because he'd build Peregrine back with or without the win. She squeezed the hand he'd wrapped around her own. "We're closing in on the harbor. We don't have much time."
