The Price of Pleasure by Kresley Cole Page B

not here for a rescue, then it’s best if you give up early in this game, Captain Sutherland.”
    Grant jerked his head to the shore. “What,” he demanded with a seething calm, “are you doing with my clothes?”
    â€œI,” she replied in a tone mimicking his, “am picking them up.”
    â€œDrop my bloody clothes.”
    â€œWith pleasure!”
    He barely had an instant to wonder at her words before she’d run away.
    â€œBloody hell!” He raked the hair from his eyes. “Bloody, bloody hell!”
    From somewhere high above him, she said, “Oh, and, Captain, I’m keeping your shirt. And one boot.”
    He twisted in the direction of her voice, saw her on a cliff jutting out over the pool. Alarm clawed back up his spine, and he began to sweat even in the water. She was up too high. If she lost her footing…
    He had only a second to think before his boot landed with a splash, inches from his head.

Five
    O ne bloody boot.”
    Grant slashed out at the growth around his knees with a gnarled stick. “What the hell does she want with one boot?” he asked himself yet again as he leveled the unfortunate bushes around him. Perhaps marking his path would prevent him from unevenly ambling in the same circle he’d made countless times already. His brilliant idea to track her from the pool last night had only resulted in his being lost.
    Again, Victoria had eluded him. She’d definitely gotten the better of him. But that was about to change. He needed to get the girl on his ship, so he would be one step closer to getting her out of his life. Unfortunately, she’d turned out to be tempting. Even for a man with his control. Even when he wanted to throttle her.
    She had the softest skin he’d ever felt. And when he’d stood next to her, he could smell the clean scent of her hair. But if his thoughts hadn’t centered on how incredible she smelled or the sensual feel of her skin, she might not have escaped him last night.
    He entered the camp after dawn, shirtless, one foot cut to shreds, his damp trousers clinging to his legs. The men all had the same reaction. Shock.
    Ian got over it first, and laughed uncontrollably. “I take it you caught her!” Laughter. Then, in a voice imitating Grant’s own, Ian said, “Sailor, your shirt’s not tucked in.” He feigned a face of realization. “Oh. You’re not wearing a shirt!” Laughter. “One boot, and it looks like your trousers are wet! To boot!” He howled at his pun.
    With watering eyes, Dooley at least struggled to contain his mirth. “Sir, the snake wasn’t poisonous.”
    â€œI realize that. Now.” He made an effort to calm himself. “Dooley, row to the ship and get me some more clothes and another pair of boots.” He let out a breath and said with disgust, “And prepare to be here a few days longer.”
    While Grant waited for Dooley, Ian’s laughter died down, only to rise again. He repeated this cycle for several minutes before finally lounging back in the purloined hammock—his adopted favorite place—a strand of reed lazily perched between his lips.
    When Dooley returned, Grant gathered up his clothes and changed, impatient to get out of his wet trousers.
    â€œSo. Did you talk to her?” Ian asked as soon as Dooley and the crew were working out of earshot.
    Grant took his older pair of boots and collected his polishing kit, determined to ignore his cousin.
    â€œHah! You did.” Ian scrambled to sit up and straddle the hammock. “What’d she say? What was she like?”
    â€œIt’s none of your concern,” Grant snapped. “Just go away, Ian. Go back to the ship.”
    â€œOh no, Cousin. Things are just getting interesting.” Ian tucked the reed into the corner of his mouth and gave Grant a too-easy smile. “You want her, don’t you?”
    â€œThat’s