by Diana Ballew
Eden’s heart thumped against her bodice. Don’t do this to me; don’t you dare.
“Perhaps I saw you admiring something from a window—yes?” he asked, a look of false innocence written on his face as he prodded her for an answer.
Her gaze bored into his. “Wrong again, Major. I haven’t seen anything I have wanted from a window in a very long time.”
Lucy gave General Stuart a questioning glance, and he replied with an innocent shrug.
After what felt like an eternity, the major finally smiled and bowed formally. “Well, then, let it never be said I did not take the word of a lady.”
Eden sucked in her cheeks and glared at him. The sarcastic rat was genuinely enjoying her predicament.
“Oh, Eden,” Lucy chimed in, “didn’t I tell you how wonderful he is? Isn’t he a dream?”
More like a nightmare. Eden coughed, nearly choking on her forced smile.
The major grinned and reached for his handkerchief.
“No.” She waved her hand. “No, I’m fine.”
He held out the silk handkerchief. “You’re sure, Miss Blair?”
Eden cleared her throat. “Yes...yes, I’m fine.” She turned away, pretending to look around the room. The major had an overpowering presence, and she remembered Aunt Martha’s words. He does have an effect on women. Well, he had another thing coming if he thought he would include her in his games of love and deceit. She had no desire to let him use her in the same manner he did so many other women.
“Ah, at last you two have met,” Isaac said as he joined the small group. He put his arm around Eden. “Did I not promise you my little sister’s a beauty, Major?”
Rayce smiled, looked directly into Eden's eyes, and then back at Isaac. “You are a man of your word, Captain. She is, indeed.”
As the orchestra announced the beginning of a waltz, General Stuart’s aide sequestered him into an adjoining room.
“I just love this piece, dear. Can we dance?” Lucy asked Isaac.
“That's a wonderful idea, my darling wife.” He turned to Rayce. “Major, I would be honored if you would escort my sister in a dance, as well.”
Eden gasped. “Oh...no, I don't think—”
“What a splendid idea,” Rayce piped in, and without a moment’s hesitation, he whisked her to the dance floor.
Minutes passed in silence, but Eden was more than aware of his presence as his strong arms deftly glided her across the dance floor. Clearly, he had done this many times.
As they moved closer to the spectators, she noticed several of the available Richmond belles huddled together, whispering and staring, each clearly hoping for a spin on the dance floor with him. She tried to ignore the stiff stab of jealousy piercing her ribcage.
“I must say, I was offended you chose not to acknowledge our prior meetings,” he said, his voice velvety smooth.
“We’ve never had any meetings, Major. You make it sound as though I were a willing participant.” She avoided his gaze. “We merely encountered one another, nothing more.”
“I have a feeling your idea of encountering one another and mine have completely different meanings, Miss Blair.”
She caught the heady aroma of cigars and brandy. The masculine scent belonged to him, and she feared her head could swoon if she were not careful. As if he read her mind, he instantly pulled her closer than deemed appropriate, causing her to gasp.
“Care to learn how I envision our encounters?” His words caressed her ear.
“Stop holding me so tightly,” she managed in a strangled voice. “People will talk.”
His embrace remained firm. She looked into his dark eyes, sparkling with amusement. “Please stop holding me so tightly, Major, or I fear...” She searched for her most ladylike expression, “or I fear...I shall faint.”
“You—faint?” His eyes grew wide. “Come now.”
Judging by the grasp of his unyielding arms, her explanation apparently held no merit.
“You know, I was just thinking. After all we've been through, perhaps you could address me by my given name. Call me Rayce.”
“We have not been through anything together, Major. Do not delude yourself into believing otherwise. You may address me as Miss Blair.”
“Come now, Miss Blair, surely you were as aroused as I when you paraded yourself in front of your bedroom window the other night. The timely performance was for my benefit, was it not?”
She choked in a gasp of astonishment and stopped in her tracks. “Why you arrogant rat,” she whispered between pursed lips. “I did no such thing.”
He held her firmly, forcing her to continue with the dance.
“You mean to tell me the sultry candlelit dance I witnessed was intended for another?” He raised an eyebrow. “I assure you, I am disappointed.”
“Dance!” Her face warmed. “I’ve had enough of this game, Major. I didn’t dance for you then, and I won’t dance with you now.” She planted her feet on the ground, poised to toss his arms aside, when Lucy and Isaac glided next to them, their faces beaming.
“You two dance beautifully together.” Lucy placed a hand over her heart. “I’m so happy you're enjoying each other’s company. It means so much to me.” Just as quickly as they had arrived, the newly married couple drifted away within each other’s arms.
The orchestra paused after the dance. Eden slipped her hand from his broad shoulder, ready to make her escape. Without warning, the orchestra began another waltz. Before she could make her exit, the major had her in his firm clutches again, sweeping her away on the dance floor.
“You were saying, my dear?”
Oh, how she despised being in this situation. She felt like an ensnared lynx whose only option would be to chew off its own foot to escape the trap. “I’m not your dear, Major...and...and—”
“And?”
“And...” She sighed. “Well, what I’m trying to say is...I do not wish to be the object of your raging desire. Furthermore—”
He threw his head back and laughed so loudly she feared it would draw attention.
“Object of my raging desire? Where the devil did you come up with such a phrase?”
She gulped. “Well, Lucy and Aunt Martha have told me...things.”
“Ah, say no more.” He laughed. “I’ll have to speak to them for spreading such vicious rumors.”
His expression turned serious, his eyes dark and shrewd. “Look at me, Eden.” A huskiness lingered in his voice. “Let’s not play games.”
She cleared the knot in her throat. Slowly, she lifted her lashes from her cheeks and looked into his eyes. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Major.”
His fingertips dug into the small of her back. “I’m quite sure you know exactly what I mean.” He glided her toward an unlit corner of the room and pulled her closer. “I want more, much more than a dance from you, my dear.”
The last time she heard those words were they were from Patrick. He had said he wanted more from her and then proposed to her right then and there. True, the major had been toying with her, but he clearly desired her. Perhaps he had marriage on his mind, too. Certainly, it would not be the first time a soldier, home from the devastating war, became infatuated with the ideals of marriage after witnessing the horrors of battle firsthand. These days, hasty proposals by lonely, war-weary soldiers were commonplace. She would wait for him to ask and take pleasure in turning him down. After all, two could play this game.
“Why, Major, what more could you possibly want from me?” She quivered her lashes and smiled.
“You can stop with the modest routine, Eden. You know perfectly well what I’m interested in.”
“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, Major, but I’m not like the other belles around here. I don’t wish to marry any time soon.”
“Marry!” he sputtered. “Surely, you’re joking.” He took her hand and weaved his fingers within hers. “A wise man once said, ‘Marriage is like putting your hand in a bag of snakes and pulling out a
n eel.’ Frankly, I couldn’t agree more.”
Eden ripped her hand free from his. “Oh, for pity’s sake. You and your games. Then what are you really hinting at?”
His eyes widened. “Hinting? I do apologize. I thought I’d made myself perfectly clear. I want you in my bedroom, Miss Blair, and I think you want that, too.” He winked and flashed an audacious grin.
Eden’s jaw dropped. “I’ll...I’ll do no such thing!” Her breath caught, and her hands trembled. With her guard down, she had given him the benefit of doubt, believing he had the intentions of a gentleman. Her instincts had been wrong, and the resulting humiliation felt like a knife against her throat.
Despite her racing pulse, she raised her chin and presented her prettiest face. “You’re arrogant and conceited, Major, and I have no desire to continue this conversation.”
He reached for her, but she pushed his arm aside and skirted past, leaving him in her wake of silk and magnolia oil.
Feeling as though the walls and ceiling were narrowing in, she swiftly walked away, her gaze shifting about the room for an exit. She had to get out of there, and fast. The man had a way about him; a unique and powerful presence causing her to question her sensibilities. Some private time in the gardens to calm the beat of her pounding heart was most certainly in order.
She saw the opened garden doors. Perfect.
Lowering her gaze, she hastened toward the back of the room, whispering pleasantries with the other guests in passing. She slipped through the leaded glass doors, entering the fragrant, torch-lit gardens, and took a deep, cleansing breath. The night air felt balmy against her skin, and the river air hung in the light breeze. Up ahead, a cobbled path disappeared within a tall laurel hedge. Curious, she followed the darkened trail.
She reached out, running a finger along the thick, glossy leaves, misted with evening dew.
How could I be so stupid?
She should have known better with a man like him. He outmaneuvered her on all accounts tonight, and it stung. Worse yet, she had nobody to blame but herself for the humiliation she felt. Tears stung the back of her eyes as she imagined him inside the hall, brandy in one hand, and a cigar in the other, basking in the glow of her embarrassment.
Perhaps she could tell Lucy the arrangement to stay at the major's home was off. Eden banished the thought as quickly as it entered her head. How could she disappoint her sweet sister-in-law, whose fears and anxiety mounted as each day passed? Of course, Isaac would demand an explanation, and she had no desire to reveal this to anyone. And Ann...Oh, Lord. If the witch caught wind of this situation, she’d never let her live it down. She remembered Isaac's words. The major is far too busy with the war.
True. Likely, she would never have to see him during her stay at Hampton Manor. Perhaps the war would be over soon, and then Isaac could come back and arrange a new plan for the family during the rebuilding of Oak Hill.
Enveloped by the tall hedge, the narrow cobblestone path appeared to wind forever in a loose maze, branching off in different directions. Peering over her shoulder, she hoped she would have no trouble finding her way back to the reception.
With her pride shattered into a million pieces, she tried to think about anything other than the scene that had just unfolded.
Impossible.
God help me. She would accept the devil himself into her heart if it would change the feelings stirring within her now, for as much a she despised the insufferable man, she had to concede, she enjoyed the way her body responded. The warmth of his hands against hers, his masculine scent, his husky voice caressing her ear; it all called to her on some primal level.
After several more twists and turns, the path ended abruptly, and she found herself on a grassy patch staring down a high bluff above the banks of the James River.
Looking around, she could see majestic old oak and maple trees guarding the surrounding hills, demanding respect from anyone below. Fragrant wild honeysuckle vines sweetened the air, reminding her of a familiar dream she had not so long ago.
She cast her gaze out toward the vast winding waters. Glowing lights flickered like dancing stars from the bobbing ships that occupied the river, always ready to protect the Confederate capital if and when the time came.
Tonight the river appeared calm, but she knew the truth to be different. Lurking like an eerie transparent mist, the constant threat of battle hung over these strong, turbulent waters filled with nearby enemy ships.
A cool wind blew above the river, slicing through the mild air. She hugged her arms across her chest, emotions suddenly getting the better of her. She thought about the war and her beloved home, Oak Hill, in ruins, and about Isaac.
Clearly, he was not the same man he had been when he left for the war. How could he be? Daily, he lived by his wits and watched men drop like flies all around him. She remembered his letter home telling in vivid detail about the bloody massacre that raged on for two days, killing thousands of men during the battle at Shiloh in Tennessee. Several of his friends had fought bravely and fallen in those terrible days. His anger and deep sorrow resonated with each penned word he wrote on the dreary paper.
Peering out toward the distance, the pooling tears stung her eyes. She dabbed each corner with her lace handkerchief. Another gust of cool wind rushed across the river, and she wished she had thought to bring her shawl.
She needed to return to the reception before Lucy and Isaac noticed her absence. Before she had time to turn around, the sound of footsteps approached her.
Her pulse quickened, but she was not frightened. She closed her eyes and inhaled his familiar scent, just as he slid in behind her and gently embraced her waist.
“It wasn’t my intent to embarrass you, Eden.” His warm, brandied breath caressed her ear.
She did not move—she could not move.
Like the deceptive river before her, his smooth words could not be trusted. She knew she should turn around. She knew she should turn around and slap his arrogant face, but she could not.
He reached up and gently brushed her hair to one side. He whispered a kiss against the back of her neck. “Say you’ll forgive me.”
Something invisible stirred between them, moved slowly, deliberately, like an unhurried fog filling every tiny crack and crevice. The last of her tears dripped down her cheek. The world felt as though it had suddenly changed course, spinning out of control. Give me strength, she silently pleaded. “I do...I think,” she whispered.
His thick hair tickled her shoulder. She leaned back, resting her head comfortably upon his broad chest.
Slowly, he slid his hand along the gentle curve of her waist. Moving higher, his fingers trailed dangerously close to the side of her breast. She flinched, ready to object, but he held firm and kissed the flushed skin on the side of her neck. A soft sigh escaped her lips the moment his hand slid over her silken bodice and teased a taut peak in his lust-rousing mission.
This is madness!
Any self-respecting woman would rip his hands away—hit him—kick him—slap him. Instead, she allowed his wandering hand to cup her breast and coax the nipple fully erect. A low throaty moan of desire escaped his lips, sending a prickle of heat slithering up her backbone.
“Eden, sweet Eden.” His breath warmed her neck. “I’m sorry if I hurt you.”
It was as though Lucifer himself called her name, and yet, she could not care less. Her body responded—every inch of her skin reacting—feeling alive next to his. “Rayce.”
She turned to face the man who stirred such passion within her—to face the handsome scoundrel who held the power of seducing her within his large hands. She looked into his dark eyes, gleaming in the moonlight.
“I do desire you, Eden, and deny it if you wish, you desire me as well.”
Behind the flames of ardor smoldering in his eyes, she detected a hint of sorrow, making the wild rogue suddenly more human. Could it be he felt more than desire for her and unable to wear his heart upon his sleeve? She quickly banished th
e thought, unwilling to set herself up for more humiliation.
“Eden—”
She brought her finger to his lips to silence his words. “Not now,” she whispered.
She rose on slippered toes to kiss him. Somewhere, lurking in the back of her mind, she knew her actions were not those of a proper lady, but as her lips met his, and his arms enveloped her, the thought completely vanished.
If she thought for even one second that her boldness would squelch his desire, he swiftly proved her wrong. Without hesitation, his lips descended upon hers, his mouth branding her as his tongue gently coaxed her quivering, inexperienced lips apart.
The kiss felt powerful, demanding, sensual. He kissed her with such fury and passion, she wondered if he would scoop her up and make wild love to her right there on the cliff above the James.
She lowered her arms and reluctantly withdrew her lips from his. Dizzied, she laid her head upon his chest. “Rayce...I shouldn’t.”
He lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. “Of course you should, Sweetness. Don’t be afraid of your passion, my dear. I find you quite irresistible.”
The familiar hint of amusement shown in his eyes. She smiled, and he pulled her close to his chest. They stood silently, holding one another, as they gazed out at the vast river below.
Rayce swallowed hard. Every time he looked into Eden’s eyes, he was pulled in deeper. Inside the hall, when she gazed up at him with moist eyes pooling with tears, he knew he could get lost in their emerald depths if he dared let himself. There was no denying she initiated a physical response somewhere deep inside every time he saw her. It was like lifeless air forced from his lungs after a swift kick to the gut, followed by a deep breath of fresh air. Each and every time, he’d been left wanting more. Needing more.
Perhaps he’d been in the woods too long this last stretch. Holding her tonight felt so incredibly perfect, as if she had been destined to be in his arms at this very place, at that exact moment. The calm water in the distance, the lush surroundings, the luminous moon on a cloudless night lighting his path straight to her; it felt like a dream from long ago.