“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

 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.