by Diana Ballew
He gripped her buttocks and pulled her hard against his manhood.
Heat radiated from somewhere deep inside. She grew warmer, wetter, the yearning so intense it almost hurt. Her nipples trembled against his tongue, her skin so hot it felt seared by his hands. She trailed her fingernails down his back, willing herself not to slice him open, while her entire body silently screamed for release from the exquisite torture. “Oh, Rayce,” she groaned.
He dug his fingertips into her bottom. She gasped as the wild current swelled, an ache rising from deep within her core. “Oh, my, she breathed.
Just as his hand moved lower, his fingers maneuvering south within an inch of her warm desire, her body peaked and trembled, her womanhood pulsating with exquisitely warm, rhythmic waves. Heat streamed from deep within with each powerful surge, and she writhed against him with her silky warmth.
“Save me—Rayce!”
Rayce breathed in the delicate scent of sweet magnolia between her breasts and felt the hurried beat of her pounding pulse. His heart hammered so hard he thought it would leap right out of his chest. Every inch of his body yearned for hers. His body quivered, his mind went numb, and all he could feel was the supple skin beneath his body, the soft yielding flesh in his hands and mouth. Her vitality, her passion, her body; everything about her was beyond his wildest dreams. So smooth was her flesh, how fragrant her hair and her breasts. Christ almighty, was she aware how much she aroused him? He licked her breasts, sucked her sweet nipples, and gripped her bottom as her soft thighs moved against his throbbing shaft.
He was in his own world of ecstasy, imagining what his own physical release could be like, when he suddenly felt her quivering beneath him saying, “Save me.”
He froze. What the devil is she babbling about?
She buried her face in his shoulder, her fingertips digging into his skin like small knives sinking in his back.
“Oh, Rayce,” she moaned.
It dawned on him just how far his idea of fun had gone. Yes, he planned to enjoy her company in the bedroom this evening—just a little daisy dollop perhaps, but he hadn’t planned on it going this far. Even though he would never readily admit it to her, he did consider her a lady and not one of his doxies, for God’s sake. And here she was, squirming in carnal pleasure, asking to be saved. Hell, he never even touched her most intimate spot!
She wiggled and moaned against him, and all he could do was hold her.
Torture. There was no other word to describe it. He could feel the wet heat of her ecstasy warming his thigh, and it was pure agony not to relieve himself of his own desire.
Several long minutes passed in silence with her curled up against him, her slender legs tangled with his. Her long golden mane fanned out like spun silk across his chest, and her head fit perfectly in the crook of his shoulder.
He slowly shook his head and sighed. The night had gone nothing like he had imagined.
What she was thinking. Was she quietly seething in fury? She does have a wicked temper. Maybe she’s in tears, weeping silently in frustration. Perhaps she’s humiliated; she had asked him to leave, after all.
“Eden?”
No reply.
“Um...Eden?”
Nothing.
“Look, Sweetness—” He reached down and tilted her chin up. Her head flopped back. “What the devil?”
By God, the woman’s not only fast asleep, she’s snoring!
Chapter 9
Eden woke to the quiet darkness of night with her head still buzzing from the brandy. Ever so slowly, she began to rise but was stopped short by something warm and heavy draped across her waist, followed by a snore. Her eyes flew open wide.
Oh, no!...no, no, NO!
She slammed her eyes shut and covered them with her hands, as hazy images of heated kisses and bare skin, tangled in intimate pleasure, flashed through her mind. Somehow, she had gone from despising the lout one moment, to squirming in passion in his arms the next.
Had she really had that much to drink? While she remembered enjoying the two glasses of brandy, she had absolutely no recollection of moving from the carpet to her bed, but everything else was becoming disturbingly clear.
She turned toward the gentle ticking of the clock above the hearth. With the exception of the glowing embers of the dying fire reflecting off the cream tiled floor, the room looked pitch black. She breathed a sigh of relief. The very idea of facing those dark, leering eyes, glowing with amused pleasure at his recent conquest, made her stomach turn. Still, she could not ignore the heavy arm on top of her...
“Major?”
Nothing.
“Um ...Rayce?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“You can’t be here. Wake up, for pity’s sake—everyone will talk!” She lifted his arm from her waist and sat up, recoiling to the headboard and tugging the coverlet to her chest.
“Let ’em talk,” he said quietly.
She jiggled his pillow. “Rayce...Rayce you have to leave—now. Ann would never let me live this down. You do know she has eyes for you, right?” She heard his muffled laugh against the bedding.
“Oh, I remember all too well. The woman’s like a feline on the prowl...in a dress.”
Eden rolled her eyes, remembering the scene at Mr. Johnson’s shop. She heard fumbling fingers sliding across her bedside table. After one gritty strike of the match, the tallow candle lit the room with a soft glimmer. Her eyes narrowed, adjusting to the light, and she quickly took the moment to assess herself. Fortunately, she had managed to keep her chemise on throughout the night. She took notice of Rayce’s silky dressing gown draped across the chair.
An unexpected gasp escaped her lips, and she quickly turned toward the wall. “Oh, my Lord, you’re completely nude right now, aren’t you?”
He laughed softly and slid his hand along the top of the coverlet. He clutched her ankle and squeezed. “Trust me, my dear. If I had my way, you’d be stark naked right now, too.”
A sudden flush warmed her body with the thought of him unclothed below the blankets next to her. She wiggled her foot, freeing her ankle from his grasp, and sighed dramatically. “You’re impossible.”
Rayce yawned and slowly sat up. Damn, he must have been more exhausted than he thought. He hadn’t intended on spending the entire night in her bedroom. He trusted the servants, but they loved idle gossip as much as the next person.
He turned toward the window. Good. Still dark outside, but the sun would be coming up soon. Best he leave prior to the light of day before her reputation was shattered to pieces. Christ. He would never hear the end of that.
He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked at Eden—really looked at her. Her hair hung in a wild mane of pure seduction, and yet she looked so sweet and innocent. Flickers of candlelight danced in her green eyes with the soft laziness of blinking fireflies. The lovely idea of ravishing her rushed through his mind, and he grew hard again. Although tempting, perhaps it would be best to keep the conversation short and sweet and get the hell out.
He rose to leave, and she seized his arm.
Too late. He sat back down.
“Rayce, I almost forgot. I need to speak to you about something. Can we talk a moment?”
“Of course.” He turned to face her. “What’s on your mind?”
She winced. “It’s Lucy.”
“What? Is she all right? Is the baby...?”
Eden frowned. “You know about the baby? How?”
“It’s not so hard to figure these things out, my dear.” He sat up straight. “Tell me, is she all right?”
“Well, yes, she’s fine.” Eden fidgeted with her fingers and met his gaze. “It’s just that she needs some extra care and...well, I need your help.”
He inched in closer and brushed her bare shoulder with his mustache. “You don’t say.”
She jerked away. “Oh, stop it. You’re relentless.” She picked up the brush from the bedside and combed out the tangles in her hair. She paused. “Did you know she’s about seven months
with child?”
He yawned and stretched. “No. I had no idea she was so far along.”
“Well, she is, and I’ve given her strict orders for extra rest and a better diet, and I want the servants to cater to her. I thought it best if you told them rather than me. And when the time comes, I’ll deliver her baby.”
His jaw dropped. “You?”
“Yes, me, she scoffed, “She’s asked me to.”
“But, have you done...that before?”
“Yes, of course. I thought Lucy would have mentioned it. My father had been a respected, skilled physician. He taught me everything I know. I’m a trained nurse and midwife.”
“Well, well,” he said, smiling. “I must say, I’m impressed.” He fingered a tangled strand of her hair. “I’m quickly learning you are a woman full of surprises, Eden Blair.”
“I’m glad you think so, because I took it upon myself and assembled a medical care area in one of your outbuildings.”
He felt the blood slowly drain from his face. “You did what?”
“I said, I’ve assembled a med—”
“I know what you said.” His jaw tightened. “What I mean is why would you—”
“My heavens! Don’t be sour, Rayce.” She stiffened her back and glared at him.
“I’m not sour. I’m just concerned.” He wedged his hands through his hair and sighed.
“Given my training, I thought it would be wise. Before I found out about Lucy, I had considered going back to Richmond to nurse our wounded there.”
He frowned. “Listen to me, Eden. You’re not going anywhere, you hear me? It’s too damn dangerous right now.”
“I’m not. I’m trying to tell you I was planning to go, but I wouldn’t think of it now with Lucy carrying this child and the war so close.”
He sucked in his bottom lip, contemplating his next words. “This war's heating up. I can’t go into details, but it’s likely to get even harder—closer. You’re just going to have to trust me. We’re evacuating Yorktown, which means—”
“Evacuating!”
The last thing he wanted to do was frighten her. Judging by the terrified look in her eyes, it appeared he had done just that. But, if she were to stay safe, Eden had to have a good sense of what could happen.
“Yes, we’re evacuating. Which means the Yanks will be on our heels, heading north up the Peninsula soon.”
“The Yanks are coming here?” She yanked the coverlet up so only her head poked out. “They’re coming here—to Hampton Manor?”
“Lord, I hope not right here, but certainly within a few miles is likely as they push for Richmond. I don’t want word getting out there’s any kind of hospital or infirmary on these grounds. You’d be inviting anyone, from either army, to set up camp here, and we don’t want that, understand?”
“But—?”
“No buts, Eden.” He shook his head.
What the hell was she thinking?
He inhaled jagged breaths, trying to keep calm. He’d already frightened her enough. “Listen to me.” He yanked the brush from her hands and set it on the bedside table. “I think it’s fine you’ve prepared an area for medical care. Lord knows we may end up needing it, but it must be kept quiet.”
“I understand,” she said softly, her gaze shifting to the floor. “But I still need your help on another matter.”
With a gentle finger, he tilted her chin toward him. “And what matter would that be, my dear?”
“I was also wondering if...”
“Go on,” he prompted her.
Her gaze narrowed in on his. “I was wondering if you could speak with Trinidad and ask for her help with Lucy. I need to have an extra hand when the time comes, and Ann would rather die than get involved, trust me.”
“I’ll speak to her and explain everything.”
She tilted her chin defiantly, her eyes deepening in color. “Honestly, Rayce, I don’t know why you bother to keep that woman around here with the way she creeps like a ghoul about the house. And I have to say, I don’t think she likes me much, either.”
“I’ll deal with her myself. I know how to handle Trinidad.”
Eden swallowed a gasp and turned away. Oh, I’d bet my boots he‘s an expert at handling ol’ Trindad! Rather than give him the satisfaction of witnessing the piercing jealousy puncturing her heart at that moment, she forced herself to look into his eyes and smile.
The gaze meeting hers was not what she had expected. After discussing his beautiful servant, she imagined facing a dark, defiant glare. Instead, a soft, soulful glow radiated from the depths of his velvety eyes.
“Rayce?” she ventured.
He reached for a cheroot and lit it with the bedside candle. “Yes, Sweetness?” He inhaled and blew out a ring of smoke.
She watched as the murky sphere blew toward the Captain’s portrait, disappearing into oblivion when it reached his vacant face. “Is there any chance you could find me some quinine and perhaps chloroform and bandages? I don’t want to be unprepared for anything coming our way.”
He shook his head. “No, no way. I can assure you, getting any of those items in areas I tend to frequent is a lot easier said than done. When the docs manage to have medical supplies in the field, they’re carefully guarded.”
Knowing just how to tug on his heartstrings, she sighed extravagantly. “Oh, how I wish I had chloroform. After all, poor little Lucy may need it when her time comes.”
“Do you think so?” He took another puff of the cheroot and exhaled with a long sigh.” Look. If I happen upon those items, I‘ll try, but I really have no idea when I'll be back.”
The thought of his leaving and heading back into harm’s way troubled her. Nevertheless, he was a soldier—an officer. What did she expect? Like all Southern women these days, she knew she had to put her fears and worries aside.
“Is it true President Davis is planning to evacuate his wife and the children from Richmond? Tell me we aren’t giving up.”
Rayce winced. “There have been rumors. If the Yanks get closer, he’ll send them down to North Carolina.” He kissed her shoulder and stood, tossing the cigar into the fireplace. “No, of course we’re not giving up. It’s all very complicated, my dear.”
Eden couldn’t help but stare as he stood stark naked, undaunted by her presence, and walked to the chair to retrieve his dressing gown. He had to be the most virile thing she had ever set her eyes upon. His shoulders were broad; his muscled chest full of thick, dark curls tapering down toward his groin, and... Sadly, he put on his dressing gown, leaving her no time to appreciate the rest of his fine physique. She liked what she had seen, but she sure wasn’t going to let him know.
He tied the silky wrap and walked haughtily toward her. “Come here, Sweetness.”
As if she were as light as a feather, he scooped her up in his arms and kissed her tenderly.
“Goodnight, my pet. I best get out of here.” He laid her down on the bed and tucked her in. He raised an eyebrow, saying, “Now get some sleep...you’ve earned it.”
Oh, Lord, tell me he didn’t just say that!
She blushed and rolled to her side to watch him go. “Goodnight, Major.”
He opened the door, paused, and looked back at her.
She blew out the candle, and like a hushed whisper in the dark, he slipped out of the door without a sound.
The room was still dark when Eden awoke an hour later. Through half-closed lids, she saw a fresh log had been placed amid the embers in the fireplace while she had been sleeping. A swirl of smoke rolled up the chimney as the big log caught flame. Early morning rooster called and sounds of melodic birds in nearby trees burst forth with song, beckoning daybreak.
The slam of the heavy front door caught her by surprise. She heard Rayce talking outside, below her windows. Beau, pleased his mistress was fully awake, scampered to her bedside; tail wagging at a lazy half-pace, for it was still the wee hours of the morning, even for him. She reached over and stroked his soft head. “Yes
, boy, I'll be with you soon. I promise.”
She eased herself from bed and sat at the window seat. Rayce stood below, next to Daniel, who attentively held a lantern. They looked like ghostly spirits with their bodies shrouded in a thick, slow-moving fog.
She thought back to her intimate encounter with Rayce only hours earlier and slipped back into bed, recoiling in flushed embarrassment. She could still see him sitting in his silken dressing gown, the cheroot hanging lazily from his mouth, challenging her from the chair as if it were his throne.
The chair!
How could she forget about the chair for a moment? What kind of idiotic maneuver had she performed to flip them over and onto the floor in her haste to snatch the wrap? She winced, thinking about the outcome her ungainly ambush had produced.
She watched as the fire grew bright, illuminating the portrait above the hearth. “So, Captain, what have I gotten myself into?” His eyes stared blankly back. “Oh, what do you know, anyway?”
The front door opened and shut again, and she bolted up to look outside. She pressed her fingers against the window. The fog had softened to a lighter shade of gray, and Trinidad had joined the men outside.
Trinidad.
Somehow, she had forgotten about the incident with her in the parlor. As she stood watching them outside, a smile replaced her earlier suspicions, as she recalled Rayce's obvious pleasure with her in the bedroom during the night. Surely, her misgivings about him and his lovely servant were unwarranted, for he had been in her bedroom last night, holding her, kissing her, and whispering her name against her throat—not Trinidad's.
Through the gray haze, the morning light dawned over the river. The opaque lace encompassed the dimly lit ships in the distance. She watched as Daniel handed the lantern to Trinidad and walked toward the stables. Trinidad stood barefoot, her dark, curly hair hanging long against her woolen cloak. The lantern illuminated her brown face, and her eyes glistened in the soft light. Eden felt a lump wedge in her throat, for Trinidad appeared consumed with love and devotion as she looked up at Rayce.
Instantly, the air squeezed from her lungs. Her fingers groped for the bedside table for support, as she watched Rayce reach for Trinidad and pull her into his arms. Clutching the lantern with a trembling hand, Trinidad buried her head into his large shoulder. He held her close, smoothing her hair, whispering something in her ear while her shoulders heaved with sobs.