Blane heard one of the men again warning Pike of the rapidly approaching storm, but the obsessed officer brushed off the nettling caution. He heard Pike order men to search the nearby woods and fields in all four directions. He prayed the troop would not get stranded here, but they might if the storm broke before Pike’s head cleared. Blane could envision Shannon’s reaction if the soldiers camped on or near the porch.
The Texan berated himself for his selfish, arrogant behavior. He should have ceased this passionate madness and let Shannon dress the moment he heard the soldiers approaching. Now it was too late for her to obtain garments and slip into them. The loudness of Pike’s baritone voice indicated he was standing near the front steps. Blane could not allow any noisy movement that might alert the persistent officer to their proximity. He raged at the idea of Shannon being found like this.
Shannon loved Blane so deeply and he was so talented at lovemaking that she was unaware of the danger surrounding her. Since Blane did not seem worried about their position and survival, she was confident they couldn’t be located. Blane was driving her mindlessly wild with his movements and kisses. Her heart—or was it the pulse from his palms—pounded madly within her ears. Her body was a blend of blissful torture and fiery pleasure. All she wanted was more of him and his lovemaking. Afraid to move or make a sound, she lay in their shadowy Elysium, allowing him full rein over her body and passions.
Blane comprehended her thoughts and behavior. He knew he had full possession of her; that she was overpowered and intoxicated by sensation. His manhood was thriving on the sheer joy of pleasuring her, but it was beginning to beg for release. Blane knew Shannon was the first woman to whom he had truly made love, for this fusion of bodies and spirits was far more than having or enjoying sex. Blane dared not drop his guard for an instant, lest he drive savagely and urgently into her body to seek a joint victory over this rapturous battle.
Pike’s next words caused Blane’s heart to skip several beats. “Did you men search beneath the house?” the vexed Southerner inquired.
“I think Tim did, sir. I’ll check with him.”
Pike headed for the largest barn to make certain no corner had been left uninspected. As Tim joined Jeb and Gareth at the well, the tawny eyed Texan strained to hear their words, dreading them. He greedily assailed Shannon’s mouth and rhythmically entered and withdrew from her body to hold her attention on their lovemaking. Even though he was hard-pressed to master his desire, he resolved not to stop his blissful torment. Yet he knew if he did lose his control and if they were located, he would surely die a rapturously happy man!
“Tim, Lieutenant Pike asked if you searched under the house.”
“I looked everywhere I could see or git. What does that man want from us? Hellfire, those two are long gone from this area. You saw that Yank’s mettle. He ain’t no fool or coward. Pike’s just got a burning stick troubling him. I wouldn’t mind diddling her myself.”
“Me neither,” Jeb concurred, rolling his eyes and licking his lips as that lustful fantasy filled his mind.
Gareth grinned lewdly before asking, “What about the porch?”
Tim pointed at it. “Look over there. Them bushes are planted tight against it. Ain’t none of them got broken limbs and there ain’t no loose boards or nails. The steps are solid backed. If anybody did git under there, they didn’t do it within the last few hours. ’Sides, I peeked in from all sides. I didn’t see or hear nothing. You want me to rip up a few of them boards just to make Firepants happy?”
Jeb shrugged and ventured sullenly, “Ain’t no horses within a mile. What man with any brains would run off his horse so he couldn’t escape fast if he was seen? And why would he stop to hide here? We done looked high and low, in and out. If we don’t git to riding, we’re gonna be dripping with cold rain. Don’t Pike realize they ain’t around?”
“All he knows is how much he wants to git that flaming-haired lady on his bunk.” The men exchanged lewd remarks and sooty jokes before Gareth suggested, “Why don’t we forget to search there? We should be gittin’ ready to break camp. Let’s go tell ’im we didn’t find nothing. It’s time for the noon meal and we’re hours from camp.”
Ominous thunder roared loudly nearby, shaking the timbers of the house. Lightning flashed menacingly across the pewter gray sky. Horses stamped their hooves and whinnied in rising tension. Soldiers quickly reported no findings of any kind. Pike could tell that the men were becoming annoyed with his persistence. Unless one of the men had been careless, searching further at this location would be fruitless. They had left camp before dawn, before breakfast. It was noon, and a violent storm was brewing. The men were hungry, weary, and irritable.
The thunder and lightning increased in volume and frequency. The wind had become brisk and chilly. Pike had no choice but to order the men to return to camp until the storm passed. At the end of the side road, Pike sent his unit back to camp and headed for Wilmington alone. He instructed Jeb to inform General Moore of their search and of his return from town by tomorrow night, in time to pull out Sunday.
Blane’s mind surged with happiness when the troop mounted up and rode away. He couldn’t have requested better timing, for his control was nearly gone. Thunder rolled noisily across the heavens as Blane moved his hands from her ears. He shifted his position to suckle ravenously on her breasts as he worked his hips swiftly and rhythmically. He groaned in rising anticipation, knowing how close they were to the ultimate sharing. “They’re gone, love. Come to me, Shannon, or I’ll soon go mad,” he urged breathlessly.
Their mouths fused as they labored together to bring each other fulfillment. They were as dry logs in a roaring fire, being consumed by hungry flames. Their bodies meshed perfectly as they raced up passion’s spiral. At the summit, they worked feverishly, extracting every ounce of pleasure before yielding to a climactic release that tumbled them over rapture’s cliff and sent them falling, floating on airy wings of bliss until they touched the earth again in the peaceful valley of contentment.
Blane collapsed atop Shannon, unable to move or breathe normally. He couldn’t believe how wonderful he felt or how thrilling their union had been. He shifted to rest partially over her moist body. His mouth couldn’t halt itself from pressing kisses over her damp face and neck and chest. His lips and tongue brushed over one breast and then the other. His left hand stroked up and down her limp frame. It had been the most powerful and satisfying release he had ever known. It left him thoroughly sated even as it inspired a fierce craving for more of her. It was a curious sensation, a good one.
He rolled to his back and sighed contentedly. Placing his arm around Shannon’s neck, he drew her along with him. Then he clasped her snugly against his damp torso, obtaining delight and serenity from their contact. He enjoyed the way her supple leg felt when casually thrown over his thigh to nestle intimately between his legs, and the way her arm calmly rested across his steadily rising and falling chest. He knew she felt totally at ease with him, and that conclusion was gratifying. He closed his eyes and was soon fast asleep, deeply asleep.
Thunder rumbled loudly outside their safe haven. Shannon sat up and looked down at Blane. He didn’t move. Her eyes wandered up and down his magnificent body and her heart fluttered. How could she understand or explain such crazy emotions? He had just pleasured the very core of her being, yet she found herself desiring him again. Her hands itched to reach out and caress his body—all of it. She wanted to kiss him and to snuggle tightly into his embrace. He was so handsome and virile. He was totally engrossing. He was hers.
The storm struck with full fury, but Blane’s slumber wasn’t disturbed. He slept as peacefully as a child in a parent’s arms, safe and secure and surrounded by love. Shannon was glad she had never been afraid of severe storms. She listened to the thunder and pelting rain. The air began to cool steadily and rapidly and she shivered.
Shannon quietly slipped over to their pile of belongings. Oddly, she didn’t feel guilty about using the stolen
items. She took a handkerchief and soap from one haversack and moved over to the bucket of water. She bathed leisurely, then dried her fragrant body, delighted and amused by the soldier’s choice of soaps. Taking a comb and brush from one of the sacks, she untangled her hair and plaited it, using an extra shoe lace to secure the end. Then the shapely redhead donned the stolen Rebel shirt and secured most of the buttons. As she put away the items, she stretched and yawned. She felt calm, refreshed, and relaxed. She carefully joined Blane on the blanket. After covering his naked flesh with the last blanket, she went to sleep.
Hours passed, and so did the violence of the thunderstorm. Yet a heavy rain continued to fall beyond the lovers’ refuge, acting as nature’s defense against the arrival of more intruders. The gray sky and impending October dusk steadily diminished the natural light. The temperature dropped and the air beneath the porch became cooler and damper with each passing hour.
Shannon was drawn to the warmth of Blane’s sleeping form, and her movements and sighs awakened him. The groggy Texan lifted his head and rapidly assessed the setting and situation. His astonished gaze swept over the woman who was snuggled against him, her body freshly scrubbed and her hair braided neatly. He glanced at the blanket that partially covered them. Smiling raffishly, he grasped its edge and lifted it. She was clad provocatively in nothing but a faded gray shirt that had risen high over her hips, exposing creamy flesh. The furry covering around her private region almost appeared a tiny breechclout made from a red fox’s luxurious pelt. His blood flamed as he noticed the heedless way her lower body was pressed familiarly against his, as if she lacked any restraint and shame where he was concerned. They were in nearly the same position as when he had fallen asleep.
Enthralled for a time, he allowed his mellow gaze to travel up her slumbering figure appreciatively and very slowly until it reached the exquisite face that rested without care or thought on his powerful shoulder. His yearning gaze wandered over each compelling feature. Despite her sharp wits, he wondered if she truly realized the full extent of her beauty and appeal. Her expression was soft and tranquil, yet he could feel the powerful pull of her magnetism. As his gaze lingered on her parted sensual lips, his respiration and pulse quickened. He could feel his heart beginning to thud heavily and his loins beginning to throb with swiftly rising desire. He licked his suddenly dry lips and questioned the beads of perspiration that had curiously formed above his upper lip and on his forehead. His body had tensed and he felt a strange turbulence inside. Was a mere glance at her all that was required to send his constantly smoldering passions beyond the boiling point?
His gaze defensively shifted toward the small openings to the outside world. He listened intently for any and all sounds. He could smell the effects of the waning storm that hadn’t aroused him, and he was astounded by his total loss of awareness. He had slept so deeply that the world could have ended and he wouldn’t have known it! Never had his wits and instincts been so dulled and clouded, especially in the midst of enemy territory. What was the matter with him lately?
Shannon Greenleaf…She was wreaking havoc with his wits, instincts, emotions, and self-control. All he wanted to do was to keep her safe, to retain his hold on her, and to spend time with her. He knew this attitude was wrong and selfish. He was losing sight of his duty and responsibilities, finding excuse after excuse to dally with her.
They could have outrun those Rebel soldiers. But anticipating that they would have to separate in Wilmington, he had intentionally avoided a hasty arrival. He had wanted and needed this time alone with Shannon to increase and strengthen his grip on her emotions. She had become an obsession, and he was afraid something or someone was going to steal her from him. He was afraid that somewhere around one of the next bends in their path they would confront either Corry or Hawke.
He mentally and disgustedly scoffed, Afraid? That wasn’t like Major Blane Stevens at all. It was alleged he had a heart and nerves of stone. Maybe that had been true before meeting this enchanting redhead. He wasn’t worried about Travers, for he would slay that lecherous snake before allowing him to touch Shannon even casually.
It was that unknown personage called Hawke who intimidated and alarmed him. He dreaded the day Hawke might unexpectedly appear before her and blind her to the passion she had shared with Blane. If only he knew the circumstances surrounding her romance with Hawke and the details of his disappearance and fate. He dared not question Shannon about his mysterious rival, for that would refresh her memory of Hawke.
The only thing he could do—or wisely should do—was wait for Shannon to reveal Hawke’s identity and the facts about their past relationship. But he could also attempt to make certain that she was securely committed to him, bound so tightly that nothing Hawke could say or do would matter.
There were three methods, he concluded, used together or separately, to accomplish such a goal: love, marriage, or a baby…
Blane’s rampant thoughts traveled to Texas and his sister. Even without Corry’s love or the security of marriage to him, Eleanor Stevens was bound eternally to Corbett Greenleaf through their child. Because of what they had shared, Ellie refused to think about other men. The son she had borne as a result of that fiery romance had inherited his father’s features. According to Ellie’s last letter to him, she could never forget Corry, for she saw him each time she gazed at their son, which kept his reality alive and potent. No matter what Corry did to her, she would always love him; she would always have a part of him, a bond to him.
Blane’s gaze roamed Shannon’s features. Yes, a child was the perfect chain to imprison her. Even if Hawke did reappear, she would never desert the father of her child. Yes, a child would forge the strongest possible bond between them. Maybe that was the answer for everyone. When Corry was confronted by their child, surely he would crave his own son. How could he possibly deny his responsibilities to his brother-in-law’s sister and their child? How could he dishonor himself before Shannon? This provocative scheme was perfect; it could solve all of his problems. Besides, there was only one way to create a child.
Blane grinned as he decided his sensuous course of action. He deftly unbuttoned her shirt and pushed the concealing material aside. His lips began to tease sultrily at her breasts. His talented hand slipped between her thighs and began to play enticingly in that sensitive area. Shannon moaned and squirmed, which delighted and encouraged him. A thrill shot through him when his name, not Hawke’s, softly escaped her lips as she gradually awoke from her dreamy world.
Although it was only five o’clock, all light had vanished. Shannon opened her eyes to wintry blackness. Panic filled her. “Blane, it’s so dark and scary.” As she shivered from the chilly air, she asked, “Can we build a fire? I’m cold.”
Blane shifted his nude body and brought his mouth close to hers. “I’m sorry, love, but we can’t build a fire; the smoke would strangle us. Listen; it’s still pouring out there. No one will be coming around again tonight. Relax and let me warm you,” he entreated huskily, then nibbled provocatively at her lips.
His searing kisses and artful caresses captured reality and sent it spinning out of her reach. His mouth shifted back and forth between her lips and breasts, inciting both to quivering anticipation. His adroit hand persistently and cleverly encroached upon the fuzzy borders, smooth valleys, rigid peak, and moist cave of her private domain, which she willingly and eagerly surrendered to his pervasive exploration. She lay on the blanket as a dry sponge, greedily absorbing numerous blissful pleasures and torturously sweet enticements.
Blane was determined to become her only reality, to make himself unforgettable and irreplaceable and matchless. He wanted to awaken her somnolent passions to a higher level of awareness and hunger than she had known before. Then he would titillate those fierce yearnings and kindle those smoldering desires until her body was pleading for appeasement and ready to burst into roaring flames. When she had experienced the ultimate in tantalizing pleasure, he would assuage her voracious appetit
e with ecstatic sensations that would attack and conquer any lingering inhibitions she might have about her relationship with him. He wanted to provide a full range of erotic pleasures and intense feelings. His hands and lips wanted to explore and taste every area of her enticing figure.
Three times Blane stimulated her to writhing anticipation, and each time patiently and lovingly appeased her in a different manner. He touched her and thrilled her in ways she had never imagined, ways that might have been shocking or embarrassing at this first discovery if they had not been surrounded by darkness and if Shannon had not been consumed by blazing passion. As it was, she was too enthralled by the urgent cravings and rapturous sensations he was creating, whetting, and feeding to protest or prevent him from doing as he pleased. She was so mesmerized and ensnared by his loving assault that she could do nothing but permit it and enjoy it. After skillfully driving her up passion’s peak and twice pushing her over its edge, he finally joined her on the third ascent to achieve a simultaneous climax that left both of them weak and breathless.
She felt utterly exhausted and contented. It had been a total experience with ecstasy beyond comparison or description. Even if a foe had arrived and had threatened her life, she would not have been able to find the will or strength to defend herself. From her head to her toes, her whole body felt aglow and at peace, as if every inch of her had shared in this enlightening and compelling discovery. It had been a strange and wonderful experience, powerful and all-consuming. She had eagerly and mindlessly submitted her flesh, her will, her heart to him. He had been in full control of her entire being, and she had not been frightened or restrained.
“Still cold and scared?” he inquired tenderly, sensing what she must be thinking and feeling after such an intense abandonment of will and body. Her trust in him had been complete.
Destiny's Temprtress Page 24