Surrender to the Fury (25 page)

Purdy made no objection when Aimee sidled around him and scurried inside the house to do Nick’s bidding. The man might doubt Nick’s claim, but obviously he had enough sense to look at the proof. Disobeying an officer was no light offense, and harming one was enough to send him before a firing squad.

Aimee returned a few minutes later, having found the pouch with the orders. Nick removed them and handed them to Purdy. “You can read, can’t you?” Nick asked disparagingly.

Purdy slid Nick a baleful glance, then frowned in concentration as he perused the orders. Truth to tell, his education was sadly lacking, but he could
make out enough words to know that Nick had been telling the truth. Tall Oaks plantation was to be spared the torch. At least as long as troops were still in residence. Whether or not one man constituted a troop was debatable, but Purdy decided not to force the issue.

“If you’re really Captain Drummond, I’m sorry for doubting you,” Purdy said, not entirely convinced.

It wasn’t so much the burning of the plantation, but Purdy sure as hell wanted the woman. He and his men could easily overpower the man claiming to be a Union officer, but it was bound to come out sooner or later that he and his men had harmed an officer. Purdy planned on a career in the army, and one little incident like this could destroy that career. The woman wasn’t worth his hide.

Nick leaned against the doorjamb, at the end of his tether. Beads of cold sweat broke out on his forehead, and he fought desperately to conceal the weakness that was slowly draining his body of what little energy remained. Only Aimee recognized Nick’s struggle to remain upright and in control. One inkling of weakness and the men confronting him might decide to challenge him.

“I suggest you mount up and ride out,” Nick said tightly. “When you return to Atlanta, you can mention my name at headquarters and I’m certain they’ll confirm my identity.”

“Yeah, well, maybe we made a mistake,” Purdy acknowledged, shifting uncomfortably.

“Tell them I’m recovering from my wound as well as can be expected,” Nick added for good measure.

The moment they mounted up, Aimee was on her knees beside Savannah, who was just beginning to stir. There was a knot the size of an egg on her forehead, but otherwise she appeared unhurt. Aimee helped her to her feet and steadied her as the men mounted and rode away.

“I’m all right, honey,” Savannah said groggily. “Are dey gone?”

“Nick convinced them to leave,” Aimee replied. She glanced over at Nick and gasped in alarm. “Nick!”

His head was bowed, the gun held loosely in his fingers, his arm extended downward as if he could no longer bear the weight. His body was slumped against the doorjamb and he was perspiring profusely. “I’m all right, Aimee; just let me rest here a moment.” She watched fearfully as he slowly fought for control of his weakened body. She breathed a sigh of relief when, after several moments, he pushed himself away from the doorjamb.

“Let me help you upstairs,” she offered, moving to his side. He leaned on her heavily as they slowly made their way upstairs to his room. She helped him off with his uniform and into bed.

“I nearly died when I saw that man’s hands on you,” Nick said. His voice was low and strident and filled with barely suppressed rage. “You were very brave to challenge so many men.”

“It was you who was brave,” Aimee observed. “They could have killed you when they saw how weak you were.”

“They were Federal soldiers; I seriously doubted they’d challenge an officer.”

“But they didn’t believe you.”

“Forget it, sweetheart, it’s over and done with. The men are gone; they won’t bother you again as long as I’m here.”

“You won’t be here forever,” Aimee said in a forlorn voice.

“No,” Nick agreed, “but I’ll come back. There’s so much I want to say to you, so many things to ask you. Surely you know how I feel about you.”

“Nick, you need your rest. We’ll discuss this another time. You’re exhausted, and I don’t want you to have a relapse; you’ve come so far.”

Aimee needed time to think. She knew what Nick was referring to. He hadn’t pressed her about Brand in several days, but she knew he hadn’t given up. Perhaps she was being overly cautious, or just plain stubborn. Perhaps the time had arrived to tell him that he was Brand’s father. He might suspect the truth, but she was the only one who could confirm it. Though he hadn’t actually said he loved her, he had told her many times over that he cared for her. She wondered if Nick cared enough about her to propose marriage once she told him about Brand. And would he do so because he wanted her or because of Brand?

The dilemma wasn’t easily solved, but in the end Aimee decided to tell Nick the truth and pray that it all worked out the way she hoped it would. Selecting the right moment presented another problem. Since Nick was still weak from facing the Union soldiers who came to burn Tall Oaks, she thought it best to wait a few days until he was recovered from the ordeal. Perhaps she was just trying to delay the inevitable, but now that she had made her decision, her mind rested easier.

Nick slept the rest of that day and through the
entire night. When he awoke the next day, he seemed much improved and in a good humor. His good spirits were somewhat tempered when Nick took careful note of Aimee’s thinness and her fragile appearance. He questioned her closely when she brought up his lunch later that day.

“Are you well, sweetheart?” he asked worriedly. “You look so pale and thin. Are you sure you’re eating enough?”

“I’m fine, Nick; you’re imagining things.”

“Have I been too much trouble for you? Nursing both myself and Lieutenant Dill couldn’t have been easy.”

Aimee bit her bottom lip and hoped Nick wouldn’t realize she had been skipping meals so that he and Brand could have enough to eat. “You haven’t been much trouble at all,” she insisted.

“Something’s wrong.” Suddenly his face brightened as a thought occurred to him. “You’re not—not breeding, are you? You could be expecting my child.”

“No! I mean, I’m not expecting. It’s just—” Lord, what could she tell him?

“What, Aimee? You’d better tell me, for I’ll find out sooner or later.”

Indeed he would, Aimee surmised. One day soon there would be nothing for any of them to eat. “I—I haven’t been eating regularly.”

“Why not?” Her face turned a dull red, and the answer came to him. “Of course; there isn’t enough food left to feed us all! How stupid of me. Do you have any money?”

Aimee shook her head. What little coin they had had been spent long ago.

“Why in the hell didn’t you say anything to me?
There’s money in my belt. Not a great deal, but enough to buy food. Savannah could go to Atlanta for supplies. Bring me my belt.”

Aimee retrieved it from where it hung over a chair and handed it to him. He drew forth a sheaf of bills and placed them in her hands. “I have little use for money; the army provides all that I need right now.”

The need for provisions was desperate, and Aimee didn’t refuse Nick’s generous offer. “Perhaps I ought to go to Atlanta myself.”

“No, send Savannah. It’s not safe for you in the city alone. I can well imagine the chaos that exists now.” Aimee nodded and turned too leave.

“Aimee.” His brilliant green eyes regarded her gravely. “Please sleep beside me tonight. I have this strange feeling that I’ll be leaving soon.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Aimee nodded; she harbored the same feeling. Besides, tonight would be a perfect time to tell Nick about Brand. She had waited long enough, and come what may, he should know Brand was his son.

A single lamp burned in the room when Aimee slipped into bed beside Nick. She thought he was sleeping and tried not to awaken him, but his arms slid around her and pulled her close. He was naked beneath the covers.

“I thought you’d be sleeping.”

“I was waiting for you.”

“I’m here now; you can go to sleep.”

“I slept almost all day yesterday and all night last night. Sleep isn’t what I crave right now.” One hand eased upward to caress her breasts. He stroked her slowly, his hand exploring each curve, his fingers examining every hollow. He rolled her
nipples between thumb and forefinger and grinned when they became hard nubs.

“If I suspected you had anything other than sleep in mind, I would have refused your bed. You’re still not well enough for what you have in mind.”

“I’m going to prove you wrong, sweetheart.” He leaned over her, his mouth hard and demanding on hers. There was nothing of the invalid in the force of his kiss. Her mouth opened, her tongue met his, inviting him into her moist heat.

Nick groaned into her mouth. He was definitely in pain, but not from his wound. It had been so long—too damn long—since he’d made love to her. “Touch me, sweetheart. Feel how much I need you.”

She could not resist. Her hands splayed across the wide expanse of his chest, savoring the heat and hardness of him. Slowly her hands descended to the taut planes of his belly, over narrow hips, then almost shyly to the strength rising from a forest of crisp curls.

“Oh, God!”

Emboldened by his cry, Aimee grasped his member in her two hands, stroking upward, then down in instinctive rhythm. She kept it up a few moments before Nick grasped her wrists and cried, “Stop!” He had been too long without a woman for that kind of torment. “Take off your nightgown, sweetheart.” He helped her pull the threadbare garment over her head and tossed it on the floor.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Her voice shook with the need he evoked in her.

“You won’t hurt me, not if we do this right.”

When his hand slipped down between her thighs, she cried out softly and pressed against his fingers. He found her moist and ready for him.

“Part your legs. That’s it. Ahhh, you’re so warm and wet. Wider, sweetheart.”

She obeyed blindly as his finger slid inside her. Bending over her, he licked the ripe tips of her breasts, then nipped them hard enough for her to cry out. Then he suckled them to soothe away the sharp pleasure-pain. Each tug of his lips seemed connected to that secret place between her legs where Nick’s fingers drove her wild with urgent desire.

“Nick, oh please.”

“Yes, sweetheart, soon. I want this to be wonderful for you.” When the pad of his thumb teased the exquisitely sensitive nub of flesh nestled amid blond curls, the blood roared in her ears.

A shivering, convulsive release shuddered through her as Nick’s fingers continued their tender torment. “You’re so responsive,” he groaned in satisfaction.

She was still trembling with the aftershocks of her release when Nick rolled her onto her side, placed her leg over his hips, and thrust himself into her hot tightness. Her body convulsed around him, and her climax began anew as he drove himself to his own shattering release. Loathe to separate their bodies, Nick remained deeply embedded, astonishingly hard for a man who had just glimpsed paradise.

“You make me feel strong, even when I’m weak from loving you.”

She was still panting softly when she replied, “You are strong, Nick. I can still feel you inside.
Your strength is incredible.” She made a jerking motion with her hips, and Nick responded by growing even harder.

“I can’t believe I want you again so soon. I’ll always want you, Aimee, always.”

His words sent her spirits soaring. They removed the remaining doubts she had concerning Brand. Surely Nick must love her if he’d always want her, didn’t he? “Nick, it’s time I told you about Brand,”

“I’m fairly certain I know what it is you’re going to say, sweetheart, but at the moment I can’t think beyond the fact that I want you again. I’m going to love you again, Aimee, then you can tell me about Brand.”

Still lying on their sides facing each other, he moved his hips, moaning in delight when Aimee parried his thrust with a subtle motion of her pelvis. He found her lips and kissed her repeatedly, deeply, demanding her full attention. And she responded in kind, returning his kiss full measure, opening her mouth to receive his tongue. She loved his taste, his scent, everything about him.

“Am I hurting you?” she asked worriedly when moan after moan continued to slip past his lips. “Perhaps we should stop.”

Nick rallied enough to say, “Stop? Good God, to stop now would kill me.”

Aimee tried to protest further, but by then Nick had driven her beyond the bounds of reason. She was soaring. She was trembling. She was hot and cold at the same time. Her mind and thoughts were controlled by the thrust and withdrawal of Nick’s hardness inside her softness. Then suddenly she reached that place where rapture
dwelled and she screamed. Nick covered her mouth with his own, swallowing her cries, replacing them with his own harsh grunts.

It was a long time before either of them could move or speak. Carefully Aimee removed her leg from atop Nick’s hip, hoping he had spoken the truth when he said she wasn’t hurting him. He didn’t move. In the dim light cast by the lamp, she saw that his eyes were closed. She studied his relaxed face for a moment, never more aware of her love for him. He looked so much like Brand that her heart clenched painfully, and she recalled that she still hadn’t told him he was Brand’s father.

“Nick, I know you suspect Brand is your son, and it’s true that I’ve continued to deny it, but it’s time you learned the truth,” Aimee began hesitantly.

Nothing.

“Nick. Do you hear me? It’s true. Brand was conceived aboard the
Dixie Belle
over five years ago.”

No shout of joy. No words of reproof for her reticence on the subject up till now. Nothing. Nick was sleeping soundly. Making sweet love to Aimee hadn’t hurt him, but it had exhausted him beyond his meager enduance. He had fallen into a deep slumber within seconds after their coupling.

Aimee hummed to herself as she skipped down the stairs to prepare breakfast. She had arisen quietly, leaving Nick in bed sound asleep. He hadn’t stirred once during the night, so complete was his exhaustion. Since there was no reason for him to arise, she hadn’t disturbed him.

Savannah was already in the kitchen lamenting
over their lack of provisions. “We got mush, honey, and dat’s about all. And some of dat fatback to fry. Don’t know what we’s gonna do once dat’s gone. If we’s lucky, a rabbit of squirrel will wander into the yard for our supper.”