The Captain of All Pleasures by Kresley Cole Page B

do as he told her. Otherwise he would never have left her alone.
    His mistake. And one she’d capitalize on. She cracked open the door to reconnoiter, but then she glimpsed the face that matched the woman’s voice, and her heart inexplicably sank.
    The creature heatedly gesturing in front of Sutherland was…exquisite. Flawless features, dressed like a fashion plate. Nicole fought the urge to look down at her own clothes, knowing she’d find thin legs encased in worn-out breeches. Strangely, her throat grew tight as she watched them, knowing he had some kind of history with that beautiful woman.
    Why was she surprised? This was Sutherland, the rake who probably had a bevy of women admirers. As she took in the jet hair and voluptuous figure of the woman, she knew he’d easily choose that vision over her. Although some strange emotion stabbed at her, she steeled herself. Exhaling a loud breath, she peeked out one last time before sprinting on the balls of her feet to his cabin down the companionway.
    Entering his room, she averted her eyes from the bed and rushed to his desk. She rifled through the drawers and found everything she’d expected, but nothing to help her. Then she spotted an unmarked file wedged in the back of a drawer. As she delved into its contents, her expression of excited anticipation disappeared, and her face darkened. The file contained lists of goods he’d ordered to be donated on Boxing Day to the Families of Lost Sailors Charity and to the handful of orphanages in the waterfront area.
    Charities and Sutherland? The donations were staggering. If he were in straits, the last thing he’d do would be give to charity, and not even the fashionable ones at that. She knew that Chancey, curse that blasted Irishman, was right about Sutherland.
    Nevertheless, she was on this ship, and she would search every inch she could. Nicole didn’t know what she would be looking for—she’d know it when she found it, she reasoned in a cavalier manner. Apparently, the liquor was beginning to hit her.
    From the deck, Sutherland’s scathing tone with the woman trailed down to Nicole, and a small smile broke across her face. That he didn’t seem to like the woman took some of the sting out of seeing her.
    As Nicole moved through the rest of the ship, she found that his clipper was in impeccable condition, his sailors’ quarters immaculate, and everywhere from his cabin to the forecastle was marked by cleanliness. His ship was just as ordered as her father’s obsessively well maintained vessel. Which really made her want to hate Sutherland.
    She trailed a lazy finger on the wall as she made her way into the storage area. She decided she had to be drunk, because she grew distracted, dreamy even, as she thought about Sutherland. What would a captain like him feed his crew? He’d probably spend extra money to get them good rations.
    She wouldn’t know what kind of semiperishables he’d outfit the ship with since they wouldn’t be loaded until the last minute, but she did see with a downcast shake of her head a generous stock of spirits. If Nicole didn’t know he was in a race, she’d think he was trading the stuff. Not that she could talk, she thought as she bumped lightly into the wall.
    Then, with eyes gone wide and a quick intake of breath, she spied a cluster of thick iron water casks in the corner of the hold. She experienced immediate jealousy. Her father still used wooden casks, and frustration gripped her from knowing that Sutherland’s crew would have much fresher drinking water than her own. She walked over to inspect the layer of condensing silver barrels and knocked on the closest one, enjoying the sharp, metallic sound.
    He had so many advantages over them. But that would make the win that much sweeter, she assured herself as she turned—and collided with Sutherland’s unyielding chest.
    â€œGoing somewhere?” he ground