The Captain of All Pleasures (Sutherland Brothers #1) Page 54

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

The 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. TheDesirade arrived here yesterday.”

His jaw clenched. TheDesirade 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.”

He frowned and turned to her.

She looked as though she was swaying a bit, but she answered his questioning look in a steady voice. “We’ll start meeting more ships soon. They can’t see us like this.” Her eyes dropped to the deck. “I’m sorry. They can’t see your crew and ship like this.”

“This is exactly what they’ll see. In case you didn’t just hear—Tallywood won.” His tone was annoyed, and she removed her hand from his.

A strand of her hair teased her lip and she brushed it away. “I heard. But you aren’t sailing into Sydney like this? With your sails in tatters and rigging strewn about?”

“That’s just what I planned to do.” He turned from her and strode to his cabin, immediately pouring a drink.

She was right behind him. “You order the crew to trim this ship!”

He took a large swig and ran a hand down his face. “My men are exhausted. I’m exhausted. We’ve lost.”

“So that’s it?” she asked in amazement.

“I’m turning in. Do you want to join me?” he added with a leer.

She opened her mouth, and he braced himself for a blistering reply. Instead, a sad emotion flickered in her eyes. “I would have expected this of you,” she quietly replied, “in the past.”

When she walked out of the cabin, he followed. “Nicole, wait.”

She didn’t acknowledge him.

“Nicole.”

When they were topside, she started hauling coarse, wet ropes to coil them neatly on a belaying pin. Slowly, one man got up and began helping her, then another, and another. He watched as Jeb purposefully looked from Nicole to him. Then, with a flippant grin, he belted out a chantey with surprising force in his scratchy old voice. Before long the rest of the crew was singing and working beside her.

A battle lost. With a loud exhaled breath, Derek handed his glass to Jimmy and began assessing their sail situation.

An hour later a spotless Southern Cross, with all her remaining sail out, entered Sydney’s harbor. The ship looked immaculate, and even though his men were flagging, morale was higher.

Nicole avoided him and, if she glanced at him at all, it was with an undecided look on her face.

When he was better able to see Tallywood’s ship in the harbor, he experienced a deep measure of disappointment. Even though he’d known the man had defeated him, seeing the bastard’s ship docked there, before his own, was still a blow.

But on the heels of that emotion, he was glad that they’d scoured the ship. The Desirade lay haggard and unkempt, her deck cluttered with refuse, the rigging hanging limply. The fact that a fellow countryman had arrived in front of all the crowds to claim a victory in that sad vessel embarrassed him.

Hell, people were even now lining the docks for their own arrival. The Southern Cross might not have won, but they would at least make it look as though they’d just completed a leisurely cruise. Thanks to Nicole.

When the ship was docked and inspected and most of the commotion of their arrival had died down, Derek scanned the decks to find her.

“In your cabin,” Jeb related with a sly look in his eyes. He almost asked what the old man was talking about but decided not to bother. He was just too damn tired. And perhaps he was just too damn obvious.