The Price of Pleasure (Sutherland Brothers 2)

When she knew he was on the bridge and couldn't easily leave, she would join him. She'd bring him coffee if he looked tired or water on the warmer days.

And if she ever faltered, doubted that she could get him to kiss her again, then the hours spent in his bed spurred her on. That first night she'd crushed his pillow to her breasts, yearning for him, his scent making her wild, and after that, not one night went by that she didn't relive what they'd done, how she'd touched him, what she wished she had another chance to do. Each hour, she felt enveloped by him. Something had to give....

Grant's voice broke her reverie as he tossed out orders to take advantage of the fresh wind. As usual, the crew responded with alacrity and precision. Grant didn't smile, but she knew he was pleased, like one who'd tilled and sowed and saw a field of sighing corn.

It was exciting but rough, so she checked on Cammy and found her awake.

Tori hopped on the free bunk, and said, "I thought I'd come in and read you something, since Ian's working."

Cammy chuckled. "No, really. Where is Ian?"

"I'm serious. He said now that we were better, he was going to apply his 'considerable genius' to learning the ship."

Cammy raised her eyebrows, then said, "And Sutherland. How is he?"

Tori looked down and smoothed a crease in her skirt. "Miffed with me as usual, I suppose," she mumbled.

"What do you mean?" Cammy asked slowly.

"I don't mean to anger him, but he's such a stuffed shirt, it's as if I must tease him. Provoking that choked-up look and making him sputter is all I look forward to these days."

Cammy gave her a censorious look. "And how do you go about that?"

Tori chuckled. "Yesterday I realized I could finally fill out the bust of a few of the dresses. So I bounded up to him to tell him the good news."

"Tori!"

"You sound like him. But really, he's the one who could appreciate the change since I catch him looking there all the time. I reasoned this out for him, but he just stared at my bodice, then scowled at me, until finally he called Dooley to the bridge to relieve him."

"You mustn't do that," Cammy scolded. "He's not your husband. And it's just not proper."

She debated telling Cammy the real reason she teased Grant, that she thought she might be falling for him, then decided against it. Not until she could sort through her muddled feelings. "You said before that you thought he felt something for me. Do you really believe so?"

"If I had to bet, then yes. But I don't know if this is a good turn. He's honorable, yes. But every man has his limits." Cammy wrung her hands. "Remember when we had the talk about what goes on between men and women? Well, he might try something like that with you."

Had they been leading up to making love in the cabin? Tori certainly hadn't wanted to stop. When he'd left her, an empty longing had suffused her. She understood that she wanted to know passion with Sutherland. She'd boiled the situation down to the facts. She wanted him; he did not want her.

Now Cammy believed he might.

"You think he wants to"--she looked around, then said in a lower voice--"make love to me?"

Cammy pursed her lips. "Don't sound so excited! You have to be married to do that."

Tori thought she might gladly pay that price...if only he would finish what they'd started.

"Just be careful, Tori. And remember--there's a difference between lust and love. It would be disastrous if you and Sutherland confuse them."

Fourteen

Like an amphitheater of rock, Table Mountain loomed behind Cape Town.

As the Keveral glided into the busy harbor and Grant gave out orders for their arrival, Victoria sidled up to him, her eyes snapping with excitement. When he finished, she said, "I thought you were a harsh taskmaster, but now I see why."

He knew she saw the other ships' crews looking haggard, their clothes slovenly. Grant's men carried themselves with pride.

"Ian said working for Peregrine Shipping is a coveted position."

Ian bloody said. "That's true. Even with a harsh taskmaster like me."

She smiled, choosing to think he teased with her. Hell, maybe he did.

"Your ship is the most impressive here. Against these hulks, it's like an...an imagined ideal."

He liked that she'd noticed; he hated that she noticed.

She sighed, turning her attention to the seals playing among the whitecaps and on the mammoth boulders circling the harbor. "It's breathtaking here, the way the mountain cradles the city. Do you think we should wake Cammy?"

"No more than we should wake Ian, I suppose. Camellia needs her sleep and I need time away from Ian."

She smiled and play-tapped his arm. "I want to buy candy while I'm here. Enough to stuff myself every day of the week."

Grant checked a grin.

She grabbed a rope overhead and used it to pirouette directly in front of him. "And while you're here, you can buy me flowers."

His amusement faded. "Victoria, there won't be any flowers," he promised, anger coloring his tone. "Whatever happened the other night was a mistake."

Still holding the rope, she skipped back a few steps. "I don't feel like it was a mistake."

He simply glared at her.

"Yes, one day you'll bring me flowers, and you'll tell me you think I'm pretty."

He would never call her pretty. He might not admit many things to himself, but there was no denying she was an exceedingly beautiful woman. He let out a breath. "Victoria, you are an odd, odd creature."

She smiled at him and let go of the rope. But under her breath, she assured him, "One day, Captain."

The nerve.

Yet as they closed in on the port, he saw her first look of uncertainty in over a month. The sights of civilization must be overwhelming for her. Surely everything was hard, jarring, and loud compared to the soft ease of her island, the colors faded. When they docked, the confusion registered more clearly on her face, as sounds and scents began to manifest.

He and his men were inured to the smells of the quay, but the odors must affect her so much more. The scent of pungent Malay cooking wafted over them, mixed with the smell of low tide and coffee. But as he should have predicted, Victoria's look of bewilderment soon turned to one of curiosity. He could feel how badly she wanted off the ship to explore her new surroundings, and as he needed to deal with the port master, he decided to let her shop in some of the nearby waterfront food stalls.

"You can go visit one of the first rows of the shops. But don't go far. Here's some money--"

She was fidgeting in her excitement, not even looking at him, no doubt trying to decide where to go first. Then his words sank in. "Oh, I can't take anything from you. You've done enough."

"Here," he insisted, grabbing her hand and forcing the money into it. "Your grandfather sent you this."

Her face lit up. "In that case...Do you know how long it's been since I bought something?" She looked around at all the stalls full of colorful wares. "I want to buy everything!" Turning back to him, she said, "But I don't remember money so well. How much is this?"

"I defy you to spend it all." She laughed and reached over to squeeze his hand, thinking he was jesting with her, when he'd said it in all seriousness.

Later when he met up with her, he noticed she was lugging a weighty bag of something very sweet and very sticky. She insisted he try some, and wouldn't budge until he did. He relented and choked back a laugh. It was a mix of sugared hard candy, crystallized ginger, and horehound drops. She must have cleaned out a shop's confectionary jar. At the rate Victoria was enjoying them, she'd be very sorry indeed.

Once she'd woken Camellia and helped her to get ready to move to lodging on firm land, the three took a hansom cab down the dusty streets toward a hotel Grant remembered from a past visit.

Without taking her eyes off the sights, Camellia asked, "So, you've been here before?"

"Yes, several times," Grant answered politely, stiffly.

Victoria said, "You

look like you don't like Cape Town."

"I don't. There's no order."

"Then I suspect I'll love it." He scowled at Victoria, which only seemed to delight her more.

"Oh, I like that hotel," Camellia said, pointing out a quaint Dutch Cape-style hotel with wildflowers growing all around. Whitewashed buildings were prevalent on the Cape, but English neoclassical structures were peppered among them.