Surrender to the Fury (8 page)

Aimee hated him
.

He closed his eyes, remembering …

He stood before her in all his naked glory, fully aroused and proud of his body, confident of his ability to please, eager to pleasure her as he had never pleasured another woman. He was hard and throbbing, his staff rising stiff and powerful from the dark forest between
his legs. She looked at him then, and he nearly exploded on the spot. Her eyes were wide and incredulous, as if he were the first man she had ever seen in a state of full arousal. He knew it was all an act, but it pleased him. He dropped to his knees on the bed, worshiping her with his eyes. Then slowly he began to arouse her in all the ways, all the places, he knew women liked. With his mouth, his lips, the moist tip of his tongue …

“Captain Drummond, where are you?”

Lieutenant Dill crashed through the forest, his voice rousing Nick abruptly from his sensual journey into the past.

“Over here, Lieutenant,” Nick called, struggling to control his turbulent emotions.

Dill soon came into sight. He seemed relieved to see Nick. “Mrs. Trevor returned to the house alone, and I grew worried. Are you all right?”

“No need for worry, Lieutenant,” Nick said gruffly. “I decided to check the area before returning to the house. One can’t be too careful in these times.”

“Right, sir,” Dill said skeptically. “Are you ready to leave now?”

“Ready, Lieutenant. Just as soon as I get the berries Mrs. Trevor gathered.”

Aimee was panting by the time she reached the house. She couldn’t believe how close she had come to submitting to Nick Drummond after the callous way in which he had treated her. To care for a man like him would destroy her utterly. On the heels of that thought came the terrible knowledge of all she stood to lose if she followed Garson Pinder’s advice. He virtually asked her to sleep
with the enemy in order to get the information needed by the Confederacy.

Aimee cast a furtive glance over her shoulder and spied Nick emerging from the woods. He looked thoroughly vexed, yet she instinctively knew that once she yielded to him, she’d be in a position to gain all the information Gar sought. But to yield to Nick now would cost her her pride, her honor—her very soul. In the end, her dilemma came down to one question: Did she want to spy? Did she truly want to search Nick’s personal belongings in order to obtain the information for Gar?

The answer was more involved than she would have imagined. It was true she hated Yankees, was sickened by what they had done to the South. She despised Nick Drummond with an all-consuming passion. Her fierce patriotism demanded that she do her bit for the faltering Confederacy, but her thoughts stopped just short of placing herself in Nick’s bed. If she used her wits, she felt confident of obtaining the information without resorting to such drastic measures. Feeling more optimistic, Aimee went to the kitchen to help Savannah with supper. She arrived just as Nick entered through the back door with the bucket of berries.

Savannah slid Aimee a questioning glance, curious as to why Captain Drummond was bringing the berries instead of Aimee. Aimee refused to acknowledge Savannah’s unspoken query, turning her attention instead to Brand, who sat on the kitchen floor playing with a crudely carved wooden horse.

“Where did you get that, Brand?” Aimee asked.
She couldn’t remember seeing that particular toy before. In fact, Brand had few toys.

“Captain Drummond gave it to me,” Brand said proudly. “It looks just like Scout, doesn’t it, Mama?”

Aimee hated the idea of Nick providing her son with a toy when she herself could give him nothing so fine.

“I hope it’s all right, Mrs. Trevor,” Nick said coolly. “Perhaps I should have asked you first, but it’s such a small gift. I carved it in my spare time when I noticed the lad had so few toys.”

For a moment Brand looked troubled. “It
is
all right, isn’t it, Mama?”

Aimee didn’t have the heart to deny her child so small a pleasure, even if it did come from Nick Drummond. “It’s all right, darling.” Her honey brown eyes settled on Nick. “But in the future I suggest Captain Drummond ask my permission before providing my son with trinkets.”

“Self-righteous little bitch,” Nick muttered to himself as he stomped from the kitchen. Aimee was quickly becoming a thorn in his side. He thought about her far too often for his own peace of mind. Of late he had begun to question his own sanity.

Why he should want such a contrary little vixen was beyond his powers of reasoning. She had never explained to his satisfaction exactly why she held a grudge against him all these years—and how she had disappeared so thoroughly when he returned to find her later. He was deeply troubled by her attitude, and the feeling persisted that she was deliberately trying to protect someone. He never really was convinced that she was a professional
gambler, though Lord knows she was proficient enough at the game. There were so many things he wanted to know about her, just thinking about the situation gave him a vile headache.

Nick was walking toward the stable to see if Scout had been shoed yet when another messenger arrived. Once again Aimee watched from the window as the messenger pressed a leather pouch into Nick’s hands before heading for the mess tent. She recalled Gar’s words and his obvious desperation. It was common knowledge that the Confederacy was backed against a wall, and now it was within her power to help turn the tide of defeat. Squaring her narrow shoulders, Aimee reluctantly accepted the task Gar forced on her. She waited until Nick returned to the house and entered his bedroom before quietly following him up the stairs.

Walking to the window, Nick held the sheaf of papers up to the light and silently perused the dispatch from headquarters. General Sherman was concentrating all his power against Johnston’s army in Georgia. Atlanta, Confederate General Johnston’s base, was at the junction of four important railways. Its capture would be the death knell of the Confederacy. The dispatch set the date for Sherman’s spearhead into Atlanta, a battle in which Nick and his men were expected to join.

Having read the dispatch through twice, Nick carefully refolded it, replacing it inside the pouch, intending to show it to Lieutenant Dill before destroying it. It contained dates, cities, and times that needed to be memorized by both officers in the event one fell in battle. He placed the pouch inside the small campaign chest that contained his spare
articles of clothing. Then he quickly left the room. He had heard his patrol returning and was anxious to receive their report of enemy movement in the area.

Aimee waited until Nick left the house before entering his room. The first place she searched was the desk drawers. They contained nothing to rouse her suspicion. She turned her attention to the bureau, but that, too, held nothing of importance. Then she spied the small chest sitting beneath the window and quickly moved to inspect its contents. But to her chagrin, she was interrupted by Savannah, who entered the room carrying a stack of clean sheets in her arms. Aimee whipped around, her face flushed a guilty red.

Savannah was dismayed to find Aimee in Captain Drummond’s room rifling his belongings. “What you doin’ in here, chile? De Captain ain’t gonna be pleased if he catches you goin’ through his belongin’s.”

“I—I wasn’t—I mean, it’s none of your business, Savannah.” Turning abruptly, she fled from the room.

… b
ig. He was so big, she feared he would split her in two. She must have conveyed her fright, for he whispered that he wouldn’t hurt her, promised her delights beyond what she felt with other lovers, told her how he adored the way she responded to him. She felt consumed by white-hot lightning when he took her nipple into his mouth. She arched into him. He began to suckle
.

A warm knot formed in the pit of her stomach and she cried out. He turned to the other breast as his hand slid down between her thighs. She tried to clench her legs, but he wouldn’t let her. She let out another shuddering groan. His naked flesh against hers was hot—so hot. He scalded her with his passion, fueling her own. His fingers rubbed the nub hidden between the tender folds of pink flesh until she was slick with moisture. His finger slowly eased up inside her, and she moved her hips in response
.

Aimee jerked upright in bed. She was drenched in sweat, and her thrashing had caused her nightgown to slide up around her waist. Caught in the throes of the same erotic dream that had plagued her both night and day since Nick Drummond had ridden into her life, she pounded the pillow in
frustration. Why? she asked herself in a fit of fury. Why did she have to relive those hours in his bed as if they had happened yesterday? Why did every lurid detail resurface after all these years to haunt her? Her body still tingled as if his hands and mouth had actually taken possession of her.

She had merely paid a debt five years ago, nothing more, Aimee tried to tell herself. Nick knew what he wanted from her even before that fateful draw of the cards. He had made his need perfectly clear. And she had accepted his challenge, knowing full well what he expected if she lost. But she had been so confident she’d win, so absolutely convinced, that she was stunned when Nick had drawn the high card. What followed was like a sequence in a dream. Then the rogue had left, making her feel like a common whore—left her with his child in her belly.

Now he was here at Tall Oaks, taunting her with his presence, making it clear as glass that he still wanted her, driving her crazy with his mocking smile and his kisses. And she had committed herself to spying on him. She had only a short time left before her meeting with Garson Pinder, and she still hadn’t found the opportunity to read the dispatch that arrived for Nick. Savannah watched her like a hawk, afraid that she’d get into serious trouble with the Yank if she was caught in Nick’s room searching his belongings. Aimee had mentioned nothing to Savannah about her meeting with Gar, thinking that the less Savannah knew about Gar’s visit, the better off they’d both be.

Perhaps her chance would come today, Aimee reflected as she flopped over on her stomach. It was still too early to arise, but she was no longer
interested in sleep. Somehow she had to get into Nick’s room without being seen and obtain the information Gar requested.

Nick had awakened early. Too early to start the day but certainly not too early to slip into that semiconscious world where reality and dreams collided.

He wanted to be inside her so badly, he ached. His finger slipped inside her. She was hot—so hot. And wet. More than ready for him. She cried out. He told her he adored the way she responded to him, how desperately he wanted to thrust inside her in the same way his fingers were doing. How very much he needed to feel her tighten around him when she reached her pinnacle. He wanted her to forget her other lovers while she was in his arms. Then he was pushing inside her, stretching her, filling her. She stiffened and groaned and he pushed all the way inside her. She was tight, so damn tight he lost control of his senses, so consumed with passion, he knew nothing but the need to stroke them both to completion
.

Nick groaned, reliving that incredible moment as if it were happening now. He had been awestruck by the wondrous heat of her, the tightness of her sheath. He remembered telling her she was as tight as a virgin, and laughing over that absurd observation. Then he flexed his hips, thrust forward, and embedded himself fully.

And thereby earned Aimee’s undying hatred.

Yet if he had had it all to live over again, he knew he would have done nothing differently. The only part he would have changed was leaving her and letting Beauregard Trevor into her life. He should have caught another train for Chicago and stayed long enough to learn where he could find
her when he returned. If he had, Brand might be his son. Suddenly his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. That same ridiculous notion he had when he first set eyes on Brand came back to haunt him. Was Brand really Beauregard Trevor’s son?

Because both Aimee and Nick had awakened early, both left their rooms at nearly the same moment, meeting by chance at the head of the stairs. Aimee merely nodded, flushing as she recalled the dream that had jolted her awake at dawn’s first light. Nick grinned, giving her the full benefit of his dimpled smile. His green eyes shimmered with secret knowledge. Aimee felt like slapping him.

“Good morning, Mrs. Trevor,” he said with a hint of mockery. “I trust you slept well.”

“Just fine, thank you,” Aimee returned icily. She’d be damned if she’d tell him he haunted her dreams.

They descended the stairs side by side. “You’re up rather early, aren’t you?”

“I could say the same for you,” Aimee countered. “Are you going on patrol today?”

“As a matter of fact, I am. Dare I hope you’ll miss me?”

“Hardly,” Aimee snorted. “I just wondered if you’d be back in time for supper.”

He sent her a piercing look. Aimee tried not to flinch as his devil’s eyes probed her innermost thoughts.

“I’ll probably not return until after dark. Don’t wait supper for me. In fact, the entire company, save for a few men left behind for guard duty, will ride out with me.”

He watched closely for her reaction and wasn’t disappointed by the barely perceptible glimmer in
her eyes. He had no idea what it meant except for the fact that she was probably glad to be rid of him for a time.

“Captain Drummond!”

Both Aimee and Nick turned as Brand came bounding down the stairs. Aimee winced in dismay when Nick opened his arms and Brand leaped into them as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do. Then he placed the little boy on his shoulders and bounced down the stairs. He held him there until they reached the dining room. Then he plunked him into a chair and ruffled his hair in such an affectionate manner that Aimee cringed. Savannah entered the dining room almost immediately, carrying a platter of eggs from the chickens the Yanks has somehow found and installed at Tall Oaks. She placed them before Nick with a grin and a flourish.