The Captain of All Pleasures (Sutherland Brothers 1)

How could she wait until after the race to tell him how sorry she was?

"Oh, God, Maria! I have feelings for the captain!"

"Muito bem. Very good." She smiled. "I'll give you my professional opinion. The captain behaved as he did because he is already in love with you."

Nicole absently swished the end of her braid against her mouth. "No, it can't be love on his part."

"Trust me. There is something very strong between you. You two would do well together. It won't be easy, but love seldom is."

Love from the captain? Nicole shook her head. "He probably hates me now. Did you forget I assaulted him this afternoon?"

"He'll recover. You could help him with that when you next see him," she said, and chuckled.

Nicole's eyes went wide. "Maria, I need to talk to you about...all that. You have to tell me everything, so I won't make a fool of myself with him next time."

"Ah, bella, it's simple."

Nicole leaned forward in her seat.

"There's one rule. All you have to do is--"

A knock interrupted her. Nicole scowled. "What is it?" she called out.

Chancey ambled in. "Ye got a message, and the port official's here to sign off."

She rose in a huff, took the message, and tossed it on her desk. "Maria, I'll be right back. Make some more tea--I have so many questions for you."

She hurried out the door to meet the official. He was a stout little man, trollish and brimming with condescension. Even after she'd signed the papers, he lingered, hovering about her.

"Yes?" she sniffed in her haughtiest tone. She was dying to get back to her cabin and hear the one rule.

"Miss Lassiter--I wish to speak with you about your recent unfortunate affair."

"My what?" She froze.

"Your heartbreak. I know of it, as well as your plans to marry. I have come to offer myself."

"Sir, I have no wish to marry anyone." She strove for calm. "I'm sorry, but you should leave now."

Unaffected, he twirled his moustache. "Ah, yes, now you play hard to get. But I will overcome you."

The man was insane. Utterly insane.

Behind the official, Maria stood in the doorway and gave her a questioning look. Nicole could only shake her head. The man was now assuring her with his tubby chest puffed with pride that although he was an official of some standing, he would overlook Nicole's basebornness and marry her regardless.

She turned on him in a flash. "If you think I will marry you--"

The man interrupted her, "You have continued your games long enough." He was becoming piqued, and his hands, before resting on his belly, gestured heatedly. "I wish to speak to your father about your dowry."

"My father," she bit out, "isn't receiving visitors."

He demanded a meeting. At once. When she continued to deny him, he grew suspicious that Captain Lassiter hadn't appeared on deck at the high tide.

How could she explain why they sailed her father's ship without him--or any captain with papers? He could make trouble for them just out of spite.

"He can't see you because he's at Madam Delgado's," she lied. Most in Recife knew of his close friendship with Maria, so it was believable. "He won't be back until the morning."

As soon as Maria heard, she blew Nicole a kiss and then crept off the ship and back to her home to cover for her.

It seemed like hours in hell before she'd gotten rid of the man. She returned to her cabin, hating that she hadn't been able to say good-bye to Maria, hating that she hadn't learned the one simple rule. She sank down in her chair, weary and feeling grimy from her encounter with the troll. It was then that her eyes trailed to the message folded on her desk.

Eyebrows knitted, she picked it up and ripped it open. In harshly scratched ink, it read, I think you two would suit.

Sutherland, that bastard! He'd signed it in large letters, boldly, sure she could do nothing. He was laughing at her even now, she knew it.

His prank ended up costing them the better part of a day. Scared that the official was watching them, they waited for the sun to go down and then escaped in the dark. Embarking was a celebration in its own, and sneaking away was demoralizing.

He would pay for that.

She wouldn't have thought the ignominy of being towed by a guano freighter could be matched on this trip. But it had been, and all because Sutherland had a fiendish humor.

That night, as Nicole stood on deck impatient to get to open sea, she recalled she'd wanted to apologize to him. And the entire time, the black-hearted swine was siccing a lovesick port official on her.

All apologies were forgotten.

"Ye think we'll catch the rest of the ships?" Chancey asked from behind her, silencing her thoughts.

Her face grew hard. "We'll catch them." Especially Sutherland.

Hours later, when the sun broke over the water, they spotted several masts just on the horizon. It had to be the first cluster of ships. As usually happened, several were matched in speed and crew, and none could break away. Even over a thirteen-thousand-mile voyage, many would stay within a few miles of each other.

At Chancey's command, the crew raised nearly all sail,

and they began to gain.

Nicole bent over the rock-weighted map on the deck's chart table, pencil tucked behind her ear. "Head south-southwest," she advised after rechecking.

"The ships are southwest."

She raised her eyebrows at him, and he complied; their course was marked even farther south of the other ships.

Nicole felt the need to explain. "They'll cover all air. We'd have to follow them for miles before we could steal a chance to break through."

Chancey thoughtfully stroked his chin. "Never bothered us before. Now ye've got us going extra distance."

"It'll be faster--"

"And harder on the crew."

She stayed silent and lifted her spyglass again, hoping to ignore him.

"This wouldn't have to do with Sutherland? Look at ye," he said with a chuckle, "it's eatin' ye alive that he got the best o' us."

She turned narrowed eyes on him. "That was a mean trick back there."

Chancey grinned and said, "It were wily, if ye ask me. And it's not as if yer father wouldn't o' done the same."

She opened her mouth to protest. But Chancey was probably right.

"And yerself. Did ye forget that ye stole his course?"

"I didn't steal it, I--"

"Put it to memory and copied it down when ye got home."

She glared at him.

"All right, I'll follow yer course," he said, relenting. "Just tell me where to go."

And then it began. The ordered chaos of activity on deck, the sound of tamed wind sieving the sails, and the crew's cheers when they passed yet another ship--she loved it all. Loved the way they all worked as one, the way they could only just control the volatile vessel, making it lurch and rocket past competitor after competitor. She had little time to speak to Chancey, except to order course alterations or speed checks, the entire frenzied time they continued to gain on Tallywood.

During a lull in the wind, the watch called out "No sign o' Tallywood." Trailing Tallywood was a slap in the face to her crew, who hated the man. Sensing the change in the men, she called out resolutely, "We can't worry about Tallywood yet. If he's anything like he was when I saw him last, he'll botch his lead somewhere on the way. We've got a closer rival to best."

Then to herself she added, "Now we sprint for Sutherland."