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lips were. How firm.
    Before she could even fully contemplate exactly what they were doing, he stepped away, leaving her swaying, her eyes half-closed, her head tilted up.
    Addison’s lips thinned and he looked away, running a hand through all that black hair. Hair she’d wanted desperately to touch.
    “I believe that concludes your tour of the ship,” he said, his voice husky, with a bit of atremor.
    Emmaline opened her eyes and cleared her throat. “You, uh, never showed me the orlop deck.” Her voice was shaky, strained, but it was nothing compared to how shaky and strained she felt inside.
    “Nothing to see. The orlop deck consists of my office and those of a few of the officers.”
    “Your office?”
    His heated gaze met hers. “And my cabin.”
    She straightened her shoulders, shaking off the remnants of his kiss.
Don’t be a fool, Emmaline. ’Twas nothing but a kiss
.
    She shook her head to clear it. Damn it, how could she forget? She needed to get into that office, but not now. Desperate for a distraction, she looked around.
    “And what is belowdecks?”
    Addison squinted against the bright sun. He smelled of fresh ocean breezes and man, a combination she desperately tried to ignore. She’d never been intrigued by a man’s scent before, or the way his hand felt in hers.
    “Nothing you need concern yourself with.”
    “Oh?” She raised an eyebrow, forcing her mind back to a somewhat normal state, even if she feared normal wasn’t normal any longer. “Am I too delicate for such things?” She purposely made her voice sound shrewish to put herself on an even keel.
    “Ah.” He hesitated as if he knew he was treading on uneven ground. “I wouldn’t consider you … delicate.”
    Her shoulders went back. What did he mean, he didn’t consider her delicate? Was she coarse? Of course, she was coarse, but she thought she’d hid it well.
    He held his hand up, as if to ward off the words she was fighting to keep inside. “That’s not what I meant. What I meant was, though you are stronger than most women, the lower decks aren’t for any type of woman.”
    “And why is that?”
    “Sailors are a superstitious lot, Mrs. Sutherland. They believe women are unlucky on ships and this bunch of characters I’ve been given—” He cut his words off as if he’d said too much.
    She’d witnessed his crew and he was correct. They were much more than a “bunch of characters,” as he so nobly put it. Even though he’d coerced and intimidated them into working together, they were still louts, vandals and criminals. They would sooner stab you in the back than face you.
    Still, she couldn’t let the subject go. “Surely I’m safe in your care, Captain.”
    Something hot passed through his eyes. Hot and delectable and, oh, how she wanted hot and delectable. “Of course, but I wouldn’t want to test them. Leave them to do their work.”
    “Very well. What about the cannons? Can I see the cannons?”
    He frowned. “They’re called guns and, no, you cannot see them.”
    “The kitchen?” She was pushing, poking, prodding, because she needed to put them back on the same footing they’d been on yesterday. As adversaries.
    “It’s called the galley and Slushy would be livid if I brought a lady down there.”
    “Slushy?”
    “The name of our cook, and he’s a crusty sailor on the best of days.”
    She forced her lower lip out in what she hoped would be a pout. Unless she counted her toddling years, she’d never pouted before, but had seen many a girl do it. “Well, then, what else is there?”
    Addison looked her up and down, as if he wanted to answer but couldn’t. For a wonderful, terrifying moment she thought he was going to suggest something that would surely make a lady run away in haste. Instead he said, “There is nothing else for us, Mrs. Sutherland.”

Chapter Four
    Nicholas had a problem. Other than Emmaline Sutherland and his obsession with her.
    Sitting at his desk, he rubbed his eyes