Surrender to the Fury

by Connie Mason

  “Nothing. I’m not going to stand here arguing with you. Let go of my arm.”

  “You’re coming with me.”

  “I’m going nowhere with you.”

  “If you want to see your son again, I suggest you come along quietly. I have a gun, and I’ve nothing to lose by killing you. On the other hand, I have everything to gain by taking you with me and demanding safe passage through Union lines from your husband.”

  “I don’t believe you,” Aimee said, eyeing him warily.

  His right hand slid into his pocket and produced a gun, which he shoved into Aimee’s ribs. Aimee gasped, looking around to see if anyone had noticed her plight. To her chagrin, passersby appeared too preoccupied with their own problems to pay heed to hers. She could always scream, but Gar was a desperate man, and she knew he was capable of shooting her in cold blood.

  “Now do you believe me?” Aimee gulped and nodded. “Walk,” he rasped, nudging her in the ribs. He led her toward the railway station.

  When they reached the depot, Pinder prodded her away from the crowd, toward the rows of empty boxcars sitting on unused tracks at the rear of the station house. He seemed to know exactly where he was going. He shoved her toward a deserted area where several boxcars sat abandoned on the tracks. Stopping before one of the cars, he pushed open the door and quickly lifted her inside. He scrambled in behind her and slid the door shut.

  In the light filtering from between the slats of the boxcar, Aimee could see various items of stolen apparel, half-eaten food, and sundry items littering the floor, indicating that Pinder had been using the boxcar as a hiding place for some time. From somewhere amidst the debris Pinder found a rope and advanced on Aimee.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to make sure you stay put while I contact your husband,” Pinder said as he grasped Aimee and wrestled her hands behind her back. Despite her struggles, he quickly tied her hands, lowered her to the floor, and bound her ankles. When Aimee screeched in protest, he tore a strip of cloth from her petticoat and stuffed it into her mouth. After making certain her bonds were secure, he let himself out of the boxcar, closing the door behind him. Never had Aimee felt so alone in all her life.

  Nick let himself into the hotel suite, wondering if Aimee had slept as badly as he had last night. He would have preferred to spend the night with her, making love to her like a bridegroom instead of sleeping on the narrow cot in his office. But he’d be damned if he’d beg her.

  Savannah bustled into the room, Brand trotting closely behind her. When she saw Nick, her face fell. “I thought you were Aimee.” Disappointment was keen on her wrinkled, dark face.

  A thrill of apprehension shivered down Nick’s spine. “Isn’t Aimee here?”

  “Mama left early today and didn’t tell us she was leaving,” Brand explained. His little face was screwed up into a worried frown.

  Nick looked to Savannah for confirmation and found it in the woman’s concerned expression. “Where could she have gone? Did she mention nothing to you? No errands that needed tending?”

  “She didn’t say a word, Major.”

  Suddenly a knock sounded on the door, and Nick hurried to answer it. “That must be her now. She probably forgot her key.” Nick’s face fell when he opened the door and found the desk clerk standing in the portal.

  “This message was left for you at the front desk, sir.” He handed Nick a folded square of paper and took his leave. Nick stared at the paper as if he expected it to reach out and bite him.

  “What’s de note say, Major?” Savannah asked anxiously.

  Carefully Nick unfolded the note. His face contorted in rage as he read the message inside. “Damn him to hell!”

  “Is it from Mama?” Brand asked innocently.

  Dropping to his knees, Nick grasped Brand’s narrow shoulders and said, “No, son, it’s not from your mama. It’s something I have to handle alone. Go to your room and play while I talk to Savannah.” Frightening Brand was the least thing Nick wanted to do.

  Brand left somewhat reluctantly, but Savannah was not so easily appeased. “Somethin’s happened to my chile, I just know it!”

  “I won’t lie to you, Savannah; this note is from Garson Pinder. He has Aimee. He wants a pass through Union lines in return for Aimee’s life.”

  “Oh, Lordy,” Savannah groaned, rolling her eyes in genuine distress. “What you gonna do, Major?”

  “I’ll find Aimee, Savannah; don’t you worry. Go to Brand. Try to keep him from suspecting that his mother is in danger.”

  “Do you think Mr. Pinder will hurt my chile?”

  “Gar Pinder is a desperate man, and desperate men are capable of many things. I’d heard he’d escaped from his guards on his way to trial, but I never suspected he’d stay in Washington this long. Never fear, I’ll find Aimee. I love her too much to allow anything bad to happen to her.”

  “Bless you, Major,” Savannah said, wiping her eyes with the corner of her apron.

  Before Nick left the hotel, he questioned the desk clerk and learned little except that the description of the man who left the message clearly resembled that of Gar Pinder. According to instructions in the note, he was to bring a legal paper guaranteeing safe passage through union lines to the railway station at midnight tonight. He was to come alone and meet Pinder behind the depot. He promised to release Aimee after he had the document in his hands, but Nick didn’t trust him to keep his word. Nor did Nick intend to comply himself. He planned on having Aimee back safely long before midnight.

  Nick returned to his office immediately, changed his uniform for civilian clothes, and spoke in strict confidence to the officer in charge of the garrison. Then he went to the train station, mingling with the crowd as he kept surveillance on the area. Since Pinder asked Nick to meet him behind the depot, Nick astutely surmised that the Reb had been hiding nearby and probably had Aimee with him. The area behind the station seemed a logical place to focus his attention, and the dozens of deserted boxcars looked like a good place to start his search. His main concern was searching the area without attracting Pinder’s notice. If the Reb thought he had been discovered, Nick feared he would harm Aimee.

  Aimee’s arms felt numb, and her legs had lost their feeling long ago. Pinder had returned to the boxcar a short time ago but made no effort to untie her or remove her gag.

  “By now your Yankee husband has my note,” Pinder said as he stood glaring down at Aimee. “Once he hands over the pass, he’ll never leave the railyard alive.” Aimee’s eyes grew wild. “If you’re wondering what I intend to do with you, you’d best start saying your prayers. Beau Trevor would turn over in his grave if he knew you’d betrayed him with a damn Yank. When I kill you, I’ll merely be ridding the world of another traitor. I’m only keeping you alive in case I have to show you off to Drummond to get my pass. After that you’ll both die.”

  Aimee’s heart thudded frantically in her breast. She should have known a man like Pinder wouldn’t let her leave alive. Oh please, God, don’t let Nick come, she silently pleaded. She didn’t care what happened to her as long as he was safe to care for Brand and Savannah.

  Nick slipped silent as a wraith from boxcar to boxcar, keeping to the shadows as he paused beside each car, listening for signs of life inside. He was almost to the last of the cars now, having examined each in turn until he had nearly given up hope of finding Aimee and Pinder in one of him. Evidently his thinking had been flawed, for he had found no indication that Pinder and Aimee were anywhere in the vicinity. Then suddenly the sound of a human voice from inside one of the cars brought him instantly alert. The voice was coming from a boxcar directly ahead of him. Then the voice abruptly ceased. Nick had a decision to make.

  He was almost certain Aimee was inside the boxcar with Pinder, and if he was speaking to her, she was still alive. But if he stormed the boxcar or let on that he was outside, Aimee was likely to be hurt—or killed. After several minutes of careful consideration, he hunkered down behin
d the boxcar to wait. Just knowing that Aimee was inside with a dangerous man nearly drove him mad, but Nick was a seasoned soldier and knew his best chance of rescuing Aimee alive would come when Pinder left the boxcar at midnight.

  “It’s time,” Pinder said, rising to his feet. Outside, darkness was a curtain that covered the land in a black shroud. Thin clouds obscured the moon, making the darkness even more impenetrable. “Enjoy your last minutes on the earth.” His nasty laugh lingered in the air long after he had slipped out into the night.

  Stiff with cold, Nick heard the whisper of the door as it slid across the boxcar opening. He rose to his feet, his body tense, his mind alert. A few moments later he saw a lone figure emerge through the opening and move stealthily through the darkness. Nick waited until Pinder was lost amidst the boxcars before leaving his hiding place.

  Aimee heard the door slide open, and her first thought was that Pinder had decided to kill her before he met Nick. The darkness was so complete, she saw nothing, not even a shadow. She nearly fainted when Nick’s voice came to her from out of nowhere.

  “Aimee, where are you?”

  Gagged as she was, all Aimee could do was make desperate sounds deep in her throat. But they were enough for Nick to locate her. “What has he done to you, sweetheart?” he said when he felt the ropes binding her limbs. Moving his hands upward, he felt the gag and gently drew it out of her mouth.

  Aimee drew in a ragged breath as the dryness left her mouth. “Oh, Nick, thank God. He was going to kill us both.”

  “We have to hurry, love.” From somewhere inside his clothing he produced a knife and carefully cut her bonds. Aimee nearly screamed when blood spurted through her abused limbs, causing untold pain. “Can you walk?” he asked as he helped her to her feet. “Pinder will be back the moment he realizes I’m not behind the depot to meet him.”

  At first Aimee’s legs felt wooden, but because their lives depended on her ability to move swiftly, she forced herself to place one foot before the other. Taking her hand, Nick helped her from the boxcar. Then, realizing that she was unable to move as effortlessly as he would have liked, he lifted her in his arms and carried her from the railyard.

  “What about Gar?” she asked breathlessly.

  Just then a Union soldier materialized from the darkness. “Is your wife safe, Major?” the young lieutenant asked.

  “She’s fine, lieutenant You have your orders. You can take Pinder now without endangering my wife’s life. And, Lieutenant, send a man over to the hotel to tell my son and my wife’s companion that we are both safe.”

  Saluting, the soldier melted back into the shadows.

  “What was that all about?” Aimee asked as Nick set her carefully on her feet.

  “Before I left headquarters, I arranged for Pinder’s capture. The men have been here for hours, waiting for a signal from me. They weren’t to show themselves or move until I had you safely away from the Reb.”

  “I was so frightened,” Aimee sighed shakily as she leaned against Nick for support. “I should have known you’d find a way to outsmart Pinder. Take me home, Nick.”

  “That’s exactly where I’m taking you, sweetheart. To the house I rented for us. The previous tenants moved just this morning, and it’s ready to move into. I’ll send for Brand and Savannah tomorrow.”

  The brownstone Nick had rented was only a short distance from the railway station. When he ushered her inside, she grew warm at the thought of Nick spending the night in her bed. She couldn’t deny the fact that she missed Nick’s arms around her at night She had grown accustomed to the heat and strength of his big body, and sorely missed the comfort and protection of his nearness. But did he feel the same? she wondered as Nick lit a lamp and walked her up the stairs.

  Nick threw open a door at the top of the stairs and stood aside so Aimee could enter. He watched her carefully, his body tense, waiting. “I thought you’d like this room. It’s large and overlooks the garden.”

  “It’s lovely,” Aimee said, hardly aware of the huge bed and comfortable furnishings. She had eyes only for Nick, waiting, fearing he no longer wanted her. “But …”

  “But what?” Nick asked hopefully.

  “I—don’t think I can sleep after everything that’s happened tonight.”

  “Would you like me to rub your back?”

  Aimee bit her lip in consternation. She’d like him to do more than rub her back, but feared such a declaration would be tantamount to admitting she loved a Yank and was ready to accept their marriage on his terms. Hadn’t Nick said he wouldn’t touch her unless she asked him?

  “I don’t think …”

  “Lie down, sweetheart,” Nick said. His voice was low, sensuous, softly cajoling. When she merely stared at him, he grasped her arm and led her toward the bed. He set the lamp down and lowered her to the soft surface. Then he turned her on her stomach and began massaging her back.

  “This really isn’t necessary, Nick,” Aimee protested.

  “Relax, sweetheart, it will help you sleep.” He continued his gentle pummeling, his teasing strokes moving from her shoulder to her buttocks.

  It really did feel wonderful, and Aimee sighed in response to his soothing touch. She began to wish there weren’t a layer of clothing between them. Just when she began to doze, she felt his hands slide beneath her dress and move up the inside of her leg. It felt wonderful, and she sighed contentedly. His hand traveled higher, higher still, stopping just short of that place between her legs that ached for his touch.

  “Let me help you with your clothes,” he offered as he began undoing the fastenings on the back of her dress. Within minutes he had stripped her bare. When he lowered his head and pressed his mouth to the soft mound of her buttocks, Aimee groaned. He slid his tongue upward along her spine, and she nearly flew from the bed.

  “Nick! What are you doing?”

  “You’re not sufficiently relaxed yet.”

  Abruptly he flipped her to her back. Then his hands were kneading her breasts, moving lower to massage the satiny flesh of her belly and thighs, then returning to her breasts. Her nipples hardened into tight little buds as he paid special homage to them with the gentle friction of his thumb and forefinger.

  “Does that feel good?”

  Aimee could barely reply.

  “Do you want me to continue?”

  She shook her head no.

  “Are you sure?”

  She nodded her head vigorously.

  Suddenly Nick’s hand searched the cleft between her legs, encountering the flooding moisture his teasing massage had created, and a knowing smile lifted the corners of his wide mouth. Unrelenting in his subtle seduction, he thrust a finger inside her. Aimee jerked and cried out.

  “Are you absolutely certain you want me to stop?”

  Aimee gulped convulsively.

  Slowly, teasingly, he withdrew his finger, waiting for her to tell him what she desired. He had vowed not to make love to her unless she truly wanted it.

  Aimee gasped. “No, don’t stop! Please don’t stop.”

  “What do you want, sweetheart?”

  His finger returned to her hot sheath, thrusting deeply, withdrawing, thrusting again—deeper.

  “Oh, God, I want …”

  “Tell me, Aimee. Unless you tell me what you want, I’ll leave and sleep in another room. Perhaps then you’ll have some idea what it feels like to ache for someone you can’t have.”

  “Make love to me, Nick. Please.”

  “Gladly, sweetheart. You deserve a proper wedding night. But before I do, I want to hear you say you love me.”

  Sobbing in frustration, Aimee cried, “I love you, Nick Drummond. God help me, but I love you.”

  Chapter 19

  “It seems I’ve waited half my life to hear you say that,” Nick groaned as the weight of his body shifted over hers. He was fully aroused, taut and heavy with his need. He had denied himself so long, he wanted to thrust into her again and again and stroke himself to climax.
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  But he didn’t He had learned perseverance long ago. Instead, he stretched full length atop her, rubbing his body against hers, making her aware of his arousal and how desperately he needed her.

  “Oh God, Nick, hurry.”

  “We’ve got all night, sweetheart. And all the nights to come.” The inflection of his voice registered a surprising vulnerability when he added, “This time surrender is forever.”

  Aimee did not argue with him, too consumed with touching him, with holding him against her. She felt the warmth of his breath, sensed the heat and tension in him, felt his muscles flex beneath her fingertips, and realized how desperately she had missed him. Needed him. Wanted him.

  When she pulled his head down to hers to kiss him, opening her legs in blatant invitation, Nick’s restraint shattered. Reaching down between his legs, she guided him inside her, then clamped tightly around him. Her hips rocked in invitation, intensifying the delicious burning in her tender depths. Nick groaned as raging passion seized him and he could no longer control the fury that drove him.

  He rode her hard, but not hard enough to satisfy Aimee, who urged him to even greater effort with her little cries and gasps. Her hands were never still as they committed to her memory every inch of his flesh. She knew the location of each scar that scored his skin, memorized every curve and indentation, instinctively knew where to touch him to give him the most pleasure. She closed her eyes when his stroking drove her close to the edge.

  “Open your eyes, sweetheart,” Nick gasped raggedly. “I want to watch your expression when I take you to paradise.” Her eyes, honey-warm and glowing, slowly opened, meeting the emerald green of Nick’s intent gaze. “Now, Aimee, oh God, now.”

  He thrust hard.

  “Nick!”

  She grasped his shoulders and held on for dear life as his frenzied thrusts lifted her nearly off the bed. Wrapping her legs around his hips, she squeezed tightly, making the pleasure almost unbearable for both of them. The end came to her explosively, at the same time Nick arched hard and held. She felt the hot spurt of his seed and heard his cry moments before shattering into a million pieces.