by Connie Mason
“Let me go, Nick Drummond!” Aimee screeched, pounding at Nick’s back. “I belong to no man.”
“You heard her, let her go, Major.” The two bouncers took a menacing step forward.
“Look here,” Nick said with exaggerated patience, “Aimee and I need to talk privately. I’ll gladly pay for her time.”
Mona’s eyes sparkled in understanding. Since Aimee seemed to know the major, and the major sure as hell knew Aimee, she saw no harm in letting Nick have his way—up to a certain point. “If you want to ‘talk,’ you have to do it in my house. I take care of my girls, and I don’t let them leave unless I know for sure they want to go. Providing you pay for her time and promise not to hurt her, I see no reason to deny your request.”
“I don’t know the going rate for the entire night, but this ought to cover it,” Nick said disgustedly as he dug in his pocket with his free hand. He removed several bills and tossed them at Mona. She caught them deftly, then motioned for the bouncers to let Nick pass.
“Third door on the left. And remember, no rough stuff.”
“I don’t want to go with him,” Aimee said in a muffled voice as she continued to struggle. What right did Nick have coming in here like this and making a fool of her? No doubt he was already married to Regina Blakewell and came to Miss Mona’s to escape her cloying possessiveness.
“Shut up,” Nick said as he sprinted up the stairs before Mona could change her mind.
Mona watched them thoughtfully. She didn’t know everything, but she did know men. Nick Drummond was a determined man who knew what he wanted. He had emerged from somewhere out of Aimee Trevor’s past to claim the woman he considered his. No doubt remained in Mona’s mind that Aimee’s career in her house had ended before it ever really began. Mona wondered if the impetuous major knew this was to be Aimee’s first night of entertaining clients. She wished she could witness the fireworks that were bound to result when those two temperaments clashed, but she’d put her money on the major coming off the winner.
Nick slammed the door to Aimee’s room with his foot, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the ostentatious furnishings and gaudy wallpaper. He threw her roughly onto the soft surface of the bed, returned to lock the door, then came back to stand over her. His face was like a thundercloud, dark and menacing.
“Where in hell were your brains, coming to work in a whorehouse? Do you enjoy having several men a night? Wipe your face; you look like a whore.”
“Don’t judge me, you bastard! You have no idea what brought me here or why I did what I did.”
“I have some idea,” Nick said, his expression softening. “But it doesn’t make it any easier for me to swallow. Why didn’t you get in touch with me? You could have asked the commanding officer to send word to me. Or written.”
“If you’re talking about Major Tanner, forget it. I did go to him, but he refused to help me.”
“Did you ask him specifically to contact me? Did you tell him my son was sick and starving? I’ll wager you never even mentioned my name.”
“Your son! I never told you Brand was your son.”
“No, but you’re going to tell me now. I’ve been extremely patient with you, Aimee, but the time has come to tell the truth.” He glared down at her with a look that told her there was no sense in pretending any longer.
“Yes, dammit, Brand is your son! Are you happy now?”
Nick smiled. “Exceedingly happy.”
“What are you going to do about it? Don’t think that you and Regina are going to raise my son, for you can’t have him.”
“What’s Regina got to do with anything?”
“She’s your finacée. Or are you already married? She was quite determined to have you.”
“I am not going to marry Regina Blakewell. And I will have my son.”
Aimee inhaled sharply. It was just as she feared. Nick would take her son from her, and she’d never see him again. “You can’t have Brand, Nick. Please, can’t you see that it would kill me if you took him away from me?”
“We’ll talk about Brand later. First tell me what made you seek work in a—a—”
“Whorehouse,” Aimee finished since he seemed to have such difficulty with the word. “I did what was necessary to save Brand and Savannah. Brand was ill. They both needed food and medicine. I made a bargain with Mona, and I intend to live up to my end of it.”
“By sleeping with men?”
A dull red crept up Aimee’s neck. “We do what we have to do for our loved ones.”
“My God, Aimee, I wanted to throttle you when I heard what you did! I’m still not sure you’re safe from me, which is why I haven’t touched you since coming into this room. I told you I’d come back to Atlanta. You know how much I care for you.”
“You didn’t care enough about me to tell me you were engaged,” she accused hotly.
“Truthfully, I never gave it a thought. Once I found you again, Regina no longer held any interest for me. I intended to break the engagement at the earliest opportunity, but one can’t always do what one wants in times of war.”
He dropped down on the bed beside her, suddenly weary of argument. He didn’t care what she had done, or with whom. He’d never bring up the past to her; it was their future that mattered. How many men could she have had in a week, anyway? Even one was too many, a little voice whispered. But he quickly put the thought out of his mind.
“What makes you think I’d ever care for a blue-belly?” Aimee bit out. “Your kind has devastated the South, subjugated our people, raped, destroyed, and pillaged at will. I hate you, and I hate all you stand for. Why couldn’t you leave us in peace?”
Nick’s eyes turned brilliant green. “You don’t hate me, sweetheart. We have a child together, remember?”
“How could I forget? For years I lived in fear that someday, somehow, you’d learn about Brand and take him from me. It was a preposterous idea given the fact that you apparently didn’t care what happened to me after you collected the debt of honor I owed you. Yet it happened. We did meet again, under less than favorable circumstances, I might add, and you do intend to take Brand from me. How do you explain that?”
“Fate, sweetheart. It was meant to be. Just as our loving one another was preordained. I won’t take your son from you. You, Brand, and Savannah are coming with me to Washington.”
Aimee struggled upright on the bed. “What! Absolutely not. I’ll never set foot in that Yankee stronghold. As for loving one another, why don’t you admit it’s lust you feel for me? You’re asking me to go to Washington with you only because you want your son, not because you have tender feelings for me.”
“You’re wrong, sweetheart. Yes, I want Brand, but not without you. I admit I lust for you, but it goes deeper than that. If you’re afraid I’ll think less of you for—for coming to this place, rest assured I’ll never bring it up again. I don’t like it, but I accept that you acted out of desperation and need.”
“How gallant of you,” Aimee said bitterly. “But quite unnecessary. I’ve bedded no one since you left Tall Oaks with Regina.”
Joy bubbled up inside him, causing his heart to overflow with happiness. It was almost too good to believe. Aimee had been at Miss Mona’s for an entire week. How could she not have been intimate with anyone? Aimee saw his happiness, and then the curtain of disbelief that tempered it.
“I don’t expect you to believe me, but it’s true. Mona didn’t rush me. She said I needed rest and food. She stuffed my belly for a week, and tonight was to be my debut.”
“It was?” Nick said. The devil in his green eyes danced with mischievous delight. “Well, I’m the one you’re going to spend the night with. Love me, Aimee. Surrender to the fury that was uniquely ours. Tomorrow we leave for Washington, but tonight belongs to us.
“Like hell!”
Chapter 17
“Shut up and kiss me.”
Aimee groaned in dismay. Didn’t Nick understand? She was going nowhere with him. Nor could he have her
son. He wasn’t the kind of man with whom she wanted to spend her life. Besides, the only reason he wanted her was because he wanted Brand. She wasn’t stupid. There was no possible way for him to prove Brand was his son, was there?
“Why must you keep up this pretense?” Aimee asked.
He looked at her with intensity—far too determined to give her peace of mind. “You’re not getting away from me again, Aimee. Why is it so difficult to believe that I care for you? Deeply.”
She looked away, visibly shaken. How easily the lie came to his lips. “Don’t patronize me, Nick.”
“Is that what you think I’m doing? Think again, sweetheart. I rushed to Atlanta the moment I was free in order to bring you and our son to Washington. We’ll be married as soon as arrangements can be made. For weeks I’ve suffered the pangs of hell thinking about you and Brand in this war-ravaged land, starving perhaps, or even worse.”
An uneasy silence settled between them as Nick continued to stare at her. His head bowed toward her. Aimee tried to turn away, but he grasped her face and held it in place between his hands. She stared at his mouth, remembering the moist heat of his full lips pressed across hers in passion, tasting her in places that made her forget her undying hatred.
Nick smiled, and she watched in fascination as the moist corners of his mouth tilted upward. Suddenly the thought occurred to her that he knew exactly what she was thinking, and hot color flooded her cheeks. A low chuckle rumbled from his chest.
“I remember, too, sweetheart.” His voice was sensual, seductive, and wildly erotic.
Dear God, was he a mind reader?
“You can’t possibly know what I’m thinking,” Aimee said.
“You’re remembering how magnificent it was between us when we made love. You’re recalling the wanton way in which you responded to the touch of my hands and mouth, and how tightly you held me inside you. We can have that again, sweetheart. Every night if we want.”
She grew breathless at the thought. “Nick, please, I can’t think straight when you’re confusing me like this.”
“Don’t think, Aimee, just feel.” Then his mouth, so close to hers that she could feel his warm breath on her lips, closed the gap between them.
His mouth covered hers completely. She felt his hunger in the furious pressure of his lips and in the hot, stabbing length of his tongue as it forced itself past the barrier of her teeth to fill her with his need. He moved upon her until her body had no choice but to accept his weight and press upward against him in self-preservation. His hands touched her everywhere, her breasts, her hips, the soft place between her legs, and still he kissed her, forcibly pressing her mouth open with his as his tongue continued to plunder her sweetness.
It wasn’t until her tiny fists beat repeatedly against his chest that he allowed her respite. They were both panting erratically when he drew his mouth away from hers.
“You’re hurting me.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but it’s been so long, so damn long.”
“Evidently Regina wasn’t very obliging.”
“I’ve not bedded Regina since I rode to Tall Oaks that day and met a woman from my past whom I’ve never been able to forget. In fact, I’ve bedded no other woman since fate brought us together again.”
“I was handy; there was no need to bed another woman.”
Nick groaned in frustration. Suddenly he stood up and began stripping off his clothes. Aimee lifted herself to her elbows. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like? Since you’re ‘handy,’ I may as well take advantage of the situation. Besides, I paid dearly for the pleasure of your company.”
Aimee opened her mouth to fling back a scathing retort, but when Nick pulled off his shirt and she saw the vivid red scar, she sucked in her breath and stared at the healing wound in mute dismay. Seeing the direction of her gaze, Nick paused.
“Does it disgust you?”
Aimee looked puzzled. Disgust her? Far from being disgusted, she recalled the suffering he had endured because of it. “Why should it disgust me? I’ve seen it often enough when I was caring for you. Does it still give you discomfort?”
Nick’s green eyes glinted wickedly. “Not enough to keep me from loving you.” Then he slid his trousers down his legs and sat on the bed to remove his boots.
“I don’t want to make love with you, Nick.”
Nick’s smile vanished, replaced by a ferocious scowl. “You were willing enough to do it with a stranger.”
Aimee had the grace to flush. “I—had no choice.”
“You have no choice now,” Nick said as he rolled to his side and pulled her into his arms. “Since you won’t believe me when I say I care deeply for you, I’ll just have to show you by my actions. Before we leave this room, you’ll have no reason to doubt me or resist my efforts to make you my wife.”
“I’m not stupid; I know it’s Brand you want.”
“You stubborn little fool! Of course I want my son. But I also want my son’s mother. Now, shut up and let me love you.”
There was no tenderness in his kiss. It was penetrating, hard, and desperate. While his mouth worked to dissolve her resistance, his hands skillfully removed her clothes—what little she had on. The filmy robe went first, then the thin chemise. When she lay nude and vulnerable beneath him, his mouth left hers, sliding down the slope of her breast to its hardened point.
Aimee shivered at the feel of his warm, moist lips against her sensitive flesh. She closed her eyes and moaned when his callused fingers slid up the inside of her thigh.
“Open your eyes, sweetheart. I want you to know who’s making love to you. I’m not your dead husband, or a faceless man who paid for your favors.”
Slowly Aimee’s eyes opened, clashing immediately with Nick’s mesmerizing gaze.
“Who am I, Aimee? Say my name, darling.”
“Oh, Nick!” His name came from her lips in an exclamation of mounting passion.
Then Nick’s lips, so insistent upon her breasts, began sucking vigorously at an engorged nipple as his hand explored the moisture between her legs.
His mouth closed over hers as his finger slipped inside her, the tormenting plunge of his tongue mimicking his motion below. Her head rolled back and forth. Her hands wound themselves in the tousled sleekness of his hair as his mouth returned to her ripe, sweetly swollen nipples. He nudged her knees, and to her own dismay, she found herself opening her legs wider, lifting herself against the subtle pressure of his hands, writhing to the rhythm of the awful pain he was creating there. When he slid down the length of her body, she tried to stop him, but was powerless to halt the spiraling surge of wanton hunger he had unleashed inside her.
He looked at her and grinned knowingly before spreading her open for the sweet torment of his mouth and tongue.
“Nick, please!”
“Are you going to marry me?”
“No.”
Lowering his head, he flicked his tongue out to tease her mercilessly. Then he tasted and tormented her, driving her wild with a need that went beyond anything he had ever done to her before.
She pleaded, but it did absolutely no good as he continued to lick and bedevil her with his lips and tongue. Every sensation was centered between her legs. The feeling grew and throbbed and grew until—
She screamed.
The release came like an eruption, shattering her soul. She was still vibrating when Nick slid upon her body and thrust the hot, throbbing shaft of his being into her. Incredibly, the feel of him filling her, stretching her, touching the very center of her soul, revived the hot spiral of bliss that gripped her body, and the splendor intensified.
“Ah, sweetheart, you never cease to amaze me. You’re body is so responsive to mine. How can you deny what we have together?”
Suspended in the grip of passion, Aimee could not reply. But Nick did not need one. He felt it in the way her body expanded to accommodate his, in every tiny tremor that squeezed him inside her with gentle pressure
, in every shudder that made her body his to command, in the way she called his name when she climaxed around him. Then Nick’s own release came upon him and he no longer had the ability to think.
Unwilling to separate their bodies, Nick clung to Aimee, holding himself inside her as he rolled to his side, taking her with him. More content than she was willing to admit, Aimee rested her head against his chest and counted his heartbeats as they slowed to a steady rhythm.
“Tell me now that we don’t belong together,” Nick said breathlessly. “I’ll wager your husband didn’t make you feel like that.”
“I don’t want to talk about Beau.”
“Then let’s talk about us. And our son. I’m going back out to Tall Oaks tomorrow to bring Brand and Savannah to Atlanta. Our train leaves at seven o’clock tomorrow evening.”
“I just can’t leave Miss Mona like that. She won’t understand. I—I owe her for the loan of food and medicine I took out to Brand and Savannah.”
“I’ll pay her,” Nick said, gnashing his teeth in frustration. “I have a feeling Mona understands more than you give her credit for. Don’t worry, sweetheart, Mona won’t be cheated.”
“I’m not going to marry you, Nick.”
“Since you have few decent clothes, pack whatever you deem appropriate from those provided by Mona,” Nick continued, paying little heed to Aimee’s protests. “Surely Mona furnished you with something other than nightwear, didn’t she? I’ll pay her handsomely for whatever you take from your wardrobe. When we get to Washington, I’ll buy you and Brand whatever you need. We’ll be married as soon as arrangements can be made.”
“Nick, do you love me?” The words tumbled from her lips before she could bite them back.
“What in the hell kind of question is that? What do you think this is all about? Of course I love you. You’re the mother of my son.”
Aimee’s heart sank. Nick loved her because she was the mother of his son. Could she settle for his passion and live her life being loved for that reason only?
