“Do it now.”

 “No.”

 “No?”

 She guessed from his look of open surprise that the word was seldom used with him. “N-o,” Nicole spelled out. “Not until you tell me why you’ve brought—”

 “Now,” he boomed, and all thought of rebellion ended. His tone made her jump to the stairs to get to the belly of the ship.

 He didn’t scare her, she assured herself; he’d just startled her.

 Swinging down easily after her, he walked to her slowly, assessing her. He bent down deftly to miss a rafter in the ceiling, reminding her of his great height. She should be nervous after he’d just yelled at her. Afraid after all she’d heard of him. Chancey, her father’s first mate, would say she had too much pluck for her own good. She supposed he’d be right, because she just couldn’t make herself be wary.

 Yet Sutherland didn’t look as though he’d hurt her. No, he looks like he wants to eat me for dinner. His gaze stroked her like a physical touch, and she shivered. Those eyes, gray and dark, could easily be called cruel, but they held no anger toward her. She convinced herself that she could detect the promise of something more in their cold depths. Could that be the reason he’d taken her back to his ship? To kiss her?

 For most of her life, Nicole had been uniformly rewarded whenever she’d done something forbidden. And if kissing Sutherland wasn’t forbidden

 Irrationally, a part of her was thrilled at the prospect. But all this was crazy—Sutherland, the rogue who’d probably bedded a legion of beautiful women, desiring her, a scrawny girl with strange looks?

 Nicole backed away, absurdly keeping some polite distance between them. She passed a door, and before she could prevent herself, she curiously scanned it. She did the same at the next door down, taking in the details of the ship.

 He saw her flitting eyes, and then, seeming to realize what she must be anxious about, he assured her in a soothing, low tone, “Rest easy, sweet, I don’t share. It’ll be only you and me tonight. Aside from the guards on deck, we have the whole ship to ourselves.” He reached out to smooth away a curl along her face and said huskily, “I’ll reward you well for the night.”

 Reward her? An idea surfaced in her mind, but she shook it away.

 Whatever he read in her expression made him narrow his eyes. “I will warn you once,” he said in a menacing voice. “Do not think to play games with me.”

 She grappled with confusion. She couldn’t account for what he was talking about or why he was so angry.

 He grabbed her upper arm. “Why were you being followed?”

 “Why did you bring me here?” she replied, tugging to regain possession of her arm.

 He all but grinned. “I brought you here because I want you.”

 Well, that explained either everything or nothing. She had to know. “For what?”

 Irritation flashed in his eyes, and she barely curbed a wince. Before she could voice another question, his other hand grasped the back of her head. “For what? For this.” He pulled her to meet his lips.

 Nicole resisted and pushed against his chest, more out of instinct than any real desire to get away. But then he ran his hand up her neck and under her hair. She couldn’t remember ever being stroked on her neck, and the sensation was so unfamiliar, so pleasurable, she stilled.

 He must have sensed her surrender; his lips pressed against hers even more forcefully. Unconsciously, her whole body softened and drifted into him. His tongue stroked at her lips, demanding entrance, fueling her curiosity. Curiosity killed the cat, Nicole.

 But what a way to go

 She boldly obeyed by parting them. He touched his tongue to hers and that feeling arose again—hot, liquid, and undeniable. His breathing became ragged. She could feel his heavy arousal against her belly—oh, Lord, he pressed it against her, and her head fell back in pleasure and shock, her mouth opening in a silent cry. She couldn’t allow him to touch her like that. She would make him stop…. But she already throbbed where their bodies met. Her breasts ached. In the clash between her wanting and her will, the wanting took over. And ruled her.

 She grabbed his shoulders, pulling herself up on her toes to get closer, deeper into his arms. Her body began shaking as the movement drove her breasts into his chest. She was coming out of her skin, frenzied to be near him. Was she making that low keening sound?

 With a curse, he released her and deliberately set her away from him. “This will be over before it begins,” he grated in a strained voice. He was out of breath, and when he ran his palm across the back of his neck, she could swear he battled surprise.

 He watched her in a searching way, and even though he seemed tense as a tightly wound coil, Nicole thought that she pleased him. With the tip of her tongue, she tasted him on her lips, and brought her hand to her bruised mouth, reveling in how she could still perceive the seeking pressure of his kiss.

 She studied his mouth, staring, captivated by how warm his lips had been, since they appeared to be chiseled out of stone. He fascinated her. His behavior fascinated her. And she knew there was more.

 She stood there, unable to take her eyes away. Even though he was her enemy, his kisses helped her past that detail. If only for a night. Why not use him to finally know what her schoolmates whispered about in the dark?

 “Tell me your name.”

 Wait! Sutherland didn’t know her. She hesitated for just a second too long.

 “Of course, I don’t expect you to give your real name…but I’d have thought you would have picked out a working name.”

 Working name? What the devil—All questions ceased. He was angry again.

 “Christina. My name is Christina,” she hedged, supplying him with her middle name.

 Was he amused? She got the impression that her “working name” was not what he’d expected.

 She knew she couldn’t come up with a reasonable excuse for why murderous cutthroats had followed her without letting him know her identity. Especially since all she could think of were his lips. Nervously she took a deep breath and forced a tremulous smile, though that was the last thing she wanted to do.

 He, in turn, looked down into her eyes until his gaze settled on her smiling lips. Whatever he saw there had his fingers threaded through her hair, then descending over her neck, until he skimmed the backs of his fingers over her breasts. Her eyes grew wide. She grabbed his wrists to stop him, but wished she hadn’t as soon as the feelings registered.

 He twisted out of her grasp, placing her hands on his chest before bringing his fingers back to her body. She was dumbfounded by his actions, and her reactions. The rigid muscles in his chest moved under her fingertips, enticing her; his touch made her breasts ache.

 She looked down at his hands, eyes shuttered. He didn’t behave like the pinching, clutching men she’d seen on the docks. He…luxuriated in her, watching his own stroking movements, seemingly enthralled as he teased her nipples to hard, aching points. Her eyelids slid closed when he grasped her sides, his hands so big on her body, and rubbed his thumbs over her.

 “You bring a man to his knees when you smile, but you probably know that,” he told her in that gravelly tone. “Tonight, I’ll have you, and I’ll make you smile with pleasure.” He bent down and gently brushed his lips to hers, as if preparing her, warning her, for the deepening contact of his mouth.

 She became lost in his kiss with its thorough caressing. He acted hungry for her, as if he couldn’t control his reaction to her, and thinking of that made her hunger for him. Heat and sensation bombarded every part of her body that touched his—her breasts, her belly, her legs.

 She clung weakly to his coat, scarcely aware that she deepened the connection of their bodies by pushing into him as he’d done to her earlier. He responded by pulling her hips to his with a grinding force. She raced toward something, something she starved for. Then his hand trailed down, lighting on her thigh before kneading upward, inch by inch. Did his other hand fumble with his trousers?

 She was feeling too much, closer to flying apart than she’d ever been in her dreams. Too much from this man. She stiffened. A last shimmer of sanity called to her. This was Sutherland . It was supposed to end with just a kiss.

 Instead of holding him to her, she pushed away from him. She shook her head forcefully. For God’s sake, this was Sutherland! Why did she behave like this with him? In answer, the throbbing in her body grew more pronounced.

 Unconsciously she swiped at her lips as if to erase what she’d just done. Of all the men in the world, she couldn’t be this attracted to him . She simply couldn’t. Particularly since she’d never met another man who made her body rebel against her. She couldn’t allow a rival, an enemy, this power over her.

 A thrill, of what had to be fear, surged through her when she admitted there were a few moments back there when she probably would have done anything he desired.

 More important, she reminded herself, while she was in here…cavorting with Sutherland, the two men who wanted to harm the ship and had tried to kill her were loose.

 In response to her pulling away, he laughed a mirthless laugh and ran his hand through his thick, black hair. “A word of advice—in your line of work, you should at least act as though you enjoy my kiss,” he said, then he stalked past her down the corridor.

 Her wits were slow, simpleton slow in her desire-saturated mind, but she finally understood why he’d so heroically brought her back to his ship.