“I can’t see anything. It’s dark, and the bank’s too high,” he said, going to sit cross-legged by the fire. He was wondering how to apologize for his broodiness. “I knew what you were up to when I saw bubbles floating downstream. Do you know the risk you’re taking?”
“Risk? It’s too cold for snakes and too early for chest colds. Surely my devoted partner wouldn’t attack me, even if he is as mad as a soaked hen because I saved his stupid life. I can’t help it if I’m selfish and want to keep him around a little longer.”
“That isn’t why I was mad,” he argued. “I was angry at myself for letting those men sneak up on us. I don’t know where my head is these days. Since you and I became partners, all I think about is you or protecting you. I’ve been too distracted and too restrained; that’s worse than no control or caution. I’ve got to stop worrying about you, Blue Eyes. From the way you handled yourself in Danville and today, I’m certain you can take care of yourself. I guess I just wanted to be the one to do it. You know, male pride and ego? I don’t like being careless and putting your life in danger. Some protector I am. As to risks, Flame, I was referring to intruders, not me.”
“I knew this place was safe; otherwise you wouldn’t have camped here or left me alone. You’re too hard and demanding on yourself, Blane. What kind of partner would I be if I didn’t help out once in a while? Besides, most of the dangers result from my tagging along. You would be fine if I didn’t concern you. Catch these clothes, please.”
He came to the edge of the bank and grabbed the clothes that she tossed up to him. Extending his hand, he pulled her up the bank. He eyed the blanket encasing her body and grinned. “Have you forgotten how hazardous such garb can be?” he teased.
Shannon sent him a coy smile. “Is that so, Mister Stevens?” She took the wet clothes and spread them over bushes, knowing it was too chilly for them to dry during the night. When she shuddered, she asked, “Do you realize it will be getting cold soon?”
Blane smiled happily. “Good. ’Cause Nature doesn’t seem to realize it’s mid-October.”
“Well, I certainly do.” Shannon noticed his wet head and bare chest, then recalled his remarks. “You took a bath downstream?”
He sat by the fire without donning his shirt. “I was hot and sticky, and mad. I was going to stand guard for you when I returned. I see it isn’t necessary. Always the impulsive and impatient vixen.”
As darkness closed in on them, she queried, “Aren’t you ever satisfied? You don’t want me to act childish or spoiled, but you get riled when I show spunk or daring. What do you want from me, Blane?”
“I want you, Shannon,” he answered simply and unexpectedly.
Shannon watched him tease the fire with a large twig. He hadn’t looked at her as he spoke. Her heart drummed wildly. Why was he so wary? Why couldn’t he reach out to her? It almost seemed as if there were some invisible barrier between them. He wanted her, but did he want to want her? He was constantly attracting and repelling her. What a befuddling man!
“You are so contradictory, Blane Stevens. I wish I understood you. I wish I understood myself,” she added in a muffled tone.
Blane’s gaze lifted to fuse with hers. “I wish I could help you to understand me and yourself, Shannon; I can’t.”
“Blane, I…I’m going to sleep.” Shannon walked to where he had unrolled the sleeping mat. She reached for her clean shirt and pants.
Blane stepped up behind her and his hand covered hers. “Don’t,” he entreated. “I can keep you warm tonight.” When Shannon didn’t move or speak, Blane nervously chatted, “It’s a good thing summer is running late this year and we’re so near the coast. We could be freezing in the mountains. It was generous of the Thomases to give us each a coat. We’ll be needing them soon. You’re shivering,” he remarked, moving hands up and down her arms. Grasping her shoulders, he turned her to face him. As his thumb moved over her lips, he asked, “What am I going to do about you? Do you know how you affect me, Shannon?”
Shannon comprehended his meaning. Without releasing his gaze, she replied, “Hopefully the same way you affect me. I want you badly, and that scares me. More so, it scares me to think I can’t have you.”
Blane nodded agreement. His eyes roamed her face leisurely. Then his hands drifted upward into her hair, enjoying how it felt against his fingers. As if he could wait no longer to have her in his arms, he drew her to him. He didn’t talk or try to rush the moment. For now, all he needed and wanted was to hold her, to feel her heart beating next to his body, to know she was there willingly…and trustingly. He closed his eyes and absorbed each sensation and emotion. Was he crazy to get so deeply involved before destroying the wall between them?
With Blane so close and intoxicating, Shannon couldn’t think of anything but her desire for him and his for her. Love and commitment were frightening things. They could be as perilous as war, if one-sided. Shannon snuggled close to him and inhaled his special scent. His virile torso was deeply tanned, the flesh cottony soft, and the interior stony hard. His entire frame was lithe and strong. The knife scar on his jawline appeared to be the only flaw on the magnificant male.
Shannon dreamily moved her hands over broad shoulders and down a hairless chest where muscles protruded slightly before flattening into a taut stomach. Her respiration quickened, and her insides seemed to be quivering with anticipation. A smoldering glow warmed her skin. His arms were always so enticing, so stimulating. She looked up into his face. Handsome could not adequately describe him, for he possessed more than exceptional looks. It was the way his hazel eyes, tawny complexion, sun-kissed hair, and appealing features worked together to create an unforgettable and matchless allure. He drew her to him with more force than her blood drew her toward her family.
Wanting to feel her flesh against his, Blane moved his fingers to loosen the blanket and let it fall to the ground. He groaned as the staggering sensation flooded his mind and inflamed his body. He nibbled at her ears and shoulders. His hands stroked her back and hair. His lips found hers and possessed them urgently. His embrace tightened so forcefully that she lost her wind. His mouth was exploring and stirring desire within her and he claimed her senses with determination and skill.
Blane lifted Shannon and placed her on the bedroll. He covered her neck with kisses as he rid himself of his pants and boots. His hands and movements grew bolder as they labored to increase her passion. His warm breath caused her to tremble, to cling to him. As his mouth seared over her breasts, her fingers played wildly in his hair.
Shannon’s senses were alive and alert. He was controlling and intoxicating the very essence of her being. Her body was sensitive to his every action. Every inch of her burned and pleaded for his touch, his talented caresses. She wanted him to invade her very soul and claim it as his own. The first time they had united their bodies, it had been wonderful. But tonight, it was sheer rapture.
His hand provocatively traveled down her stomach and teased along her thighs with long, sweeping strokes. He sought out her secret place and immediately heightened his passion as well as hers. Surely this was blissful torment. Blane called on all he knew about lovemaking and women to give her the most fulfilling experience possible. He wanted this blending of bodies and spirits to last for hours. It couldn’t, he knew, for they needed to sleep and rise early to continue their perilous trek. When they reached Wilmington, they would have privacy and comfort and safety. The war would have to wait while he spent two days with her, two glorious days that could be their last ones together. His hands and tongue prepared her to take him greedily and uninhibitedly.
A flood of sensations washed over Shannon, sensations that caused her to relax and to tense simultaneously, sensations that created ecstasy and torment, sensations that fed some needs and inspired others. She allowed him to do as he pleased, for whatever he did pleased her. She had yearned for this moment for days. “Oh, Blane, what are you doing to me?”
Blane shifted his hips between her thighs and
gently entered her with his torrid shaft. This contact was more staggering to his senses and control than the touching of their naked bodies. Lord, she played havoc with his self-control and sensual talents! He wanted tonight to be especially meaningful to her, for perhaps she hadn’t known full pleasure and contentment that first time.
Shannon’s hands roved along the rippling muscles of his back as he tenderly moved in and out of her compelling body. She lifted her hips to receive each entry, then moaned at each withdrawal. She crossed her legs over his and held him snugly. Her mouth meshed feverishly with his as their tongues performed their own mating dance.
Shannon’s behavior told Blane when she was ready to challenge and conquer ecstasy’s peak. He increased his lunging pace to a gentle savageness. “Ride with me, Shannon. Be mine alone. Come to me, my fiery enchantress, come to me,” he entreated raggedly in her ear.
His words and actions sent Shannon over the crest of hesitation. Her cry of release was muffled against his shoulder, and as she began her downward spiral after victory, Blane’s body shuddered with the force of an equally blissful climax. His mouth seized hers and he kissed her ravenously until every spasm ceased.
Blane shifted to his back, holding Shannon in place. Her cheek rested on his thudding, damp chest. His fingers were interlaced behind her back and his face turned skyward as he searched for normal respiration. As he gradually discovered it, one hand went behind her head and clasped her head closer to him. Shortly, he rolled her to her back, placing him half atop her, and stared into her large blue eyes.
Blane couldn’t pull his gaze from Shannon’s face. She looked so beautiful lying there naked in the moonlight, glistening from her exertions. The flush of passion still brightened her cheeks; the glow of appeasement softened her potent gaze. She was so innocent to be so sensual and bewitching. He couldn’t ignore her or resist her. He couldn’t keep his hands or mind from her. But could he have her if he carried out his revenge? No, she would despise him. On the other hand, could he forget his duty and vengenace to win Shannon? They were endangered by war; perhaps he wouldn’t survive to face such a difficult decision. If only Shannon weren’t so entrancing, so giving, so damn trusting! If only she weren’t…It was useless to avoid reality; she was Shannon Greenleaf, and he couldn’t ignore or discard the past.
Shannon observed him curiously, for his mood confused her. His gaze was such a puzzling mixture of emotional turmoil. She observed several contradictory feelings: pleasure, contentment, affection, possessiveness, astonishment, and remorse and anguish as well. She wondered what was troubling him so deeply. Those were far too many emotions to be attacking him at once, especially now. “Blane, is something wrong?”
“We’re in perilous country, Shannon. One wrong move and we could both be destroyed. We’ve got some hard and painful times ahead of us. There are things I’ll have to do that no one will understand. I wish it could be different, Flame. Whatever happens from now on, take care of yourself. You’re as rare as a white buffalo, and just as special.”
Shannon mentally questioned his odd expression and tone. It didn’t sound as if he had been referring to the war. His remarks sounded personal and tormenting, as if sliced from his soul before they could be spoken aloud. Was he going to desert her in the next town? “When we get to Wilmington, I’ll follow orders; you needn’t worry, Blane.”
He assumed and hoped she had misunderstood him, for he had spoken rashly. Her comment misled him. “Wilmington is the chief port for Confederate supplies. It’s still in Rebel hands, Shannon. We might sound Southern, but we can’t afford any slipups. There could be other Thorntons and Cliffords and Traverses around. Watch yourself carefully.”
Shannon smiled and caressed his cheek. “I’ll be good, sir.”
His forefinger stroked her eyebrow. “Charleston and Savannah are the same, Blue Eyes. The Rebs control those major ports too.” He didn’t confide that Savannah was the goal of Sherman’s present offensive. If the man continued the strategy that had been used for destroying Atlanta, Shannon might not have a home left after he reached her lovely town. “As major supply points for the South, they are major targets for Yankee ships and inland assaults. Stay clear of the docks, understand? I don’t want to leave you behind anywhere, Shannon, but there’ll be times when I must. Promise me you won’t take foolish risks.”
She smiled lovingly into his face. “I promise. Wherever you leave me, I’ll be waiting there when you return. Promise me you’ll stay safe and return as quickly as possible. I’m so alone without you.”
“There’s only one thing that can keep me away from you, Blue Eyes, and I plan to overcome it.” His mouth closed over hers, and once more he made love to her before allowing slumber to claim them.
When Blane and Shannon were only a day from their destination, trouble struck. Blane left Shannon with Dan while he crept forward to locate the source of the noises reaching his keen ears. Her head having become sore from wearing the heavy plait for many days and nights, Shannon unbraided her hair, retrieved her brush, and sat down to wait for Blane. As her mind relieved their last few nights of passionate lovemaking, she ran her fingers through her hair to separate the strands.
Meanwhile, Blane had discovered a large Rebel encampment being set up for the night. He was astounded by the number of men and weapons before his line of vision. He noticed several cannons and caissons. He edged into a better position to view and count the number of supply wagons and to ascertain their contents. Clearly this unit was preparing for a large assault. But where and when? He eyed the camp through his field glasses. Blane felt he must seek that information to pass along at their next stop. Their next stop…Wilmington …and Shannon. His body flamed as he envisioned those impending days and nights in her arms. Lovemaking on the trail was hazardous. He was always under a strain to keep his wits sharp while she was driving him wild with hunger and pleasure. To be able to relax completely and place all of his concentration on…
He didn’t get a chance to move closer. A shout to his left seized his attention, “Hold there! Present yourself or be shot!”
When the man sent forth a horn blast to summon other guards, Blane tensed. He cursed himself for allowing his attention to stray. Knowing he couldn’t bluff free of this situation, he also cursed his recklessness. Rebels would be swarming all over him soon. A flurry of frantic thoughts raced through his astute mind. He and Shannon couldn’t escape riding double. Even if he tried running in the other direction, they would search this entire area for hidden missives after his capture or escape. If he left her behind, she would be found and interrogated. Confused and frightened, she might convict herself.
There was only one thing to do. Blane ran toward Shannon’s hiding place. Bullets whistled past his head and body. He darted right and left to avoid them. He didn’t have much time. He tossed his saddlebags into the thick underbrush to his left. He knew the mingling of their clothes and possessions would inspire doubts. He grabbed the piece of rope dangling over his gun and snatched Shannon around to bind her hands. As he worked, he whispered, “Too many Rebs to fight or flee, love. Pretend you’re my hostage. I can get away later. Don’t panic and reveal the truth. Meet me in Wilmington.”
“This is Sergeant Clayton Phillips of the Confederate Army. Give it up, Yank,” a stern voice called through the bushes as they surrounded the couple. “You ain’t leaving here alive and free.”
Blane backed against a tree and pinned Shannon against him. He placed a knife near her throat and called out, “Keep your distance or this Rebel temptress will die before me! I got me a lady hostage. Let me ride out, and I’ll drop her down the road,” he offered.
The brawny sergeant commanded, “Let me see her.”
“Get an eyeful, ’cause she’s dead if you rush me.”
A head of black hair and a shoulder clad in gray peered around a large tree. Blane caught her hair and yanked her head backward. Taken by surprise, Shannon squealed and jerked. Blane chuckled wickedly. “Pretty li
ttle witch, isn’t she? You wanna trade?”
“Who is she?” the man inquired, aware of her beauty and her dangerous position. Enormous blue eyes snared his attention first, then a head of flaming red hair that settled wildly around her shoulders.
“One of your Rebel daughters I captured on the road last night. She wouldn’t tell me her name. She’s a fiesty little bundle. Didn’t know you Rebs grew ’em so pretty and tough. Answer the nice Reb,” he commanded, jerking on her hair again.
Shannon cried out before she could prevent it, but she knew what Blane wanted from her. As if petrified, she hurriedly answered, “I’m Shannon Greenleaf. I lived near Wilmington. For months, I’ve been nursing near Fredericksburg, but President Davis ordered me to come home. It’s really bad in that area. Grant and Sheridan are closing in fast on Richmond. I was traveling with three wounded soldiers when we were attacked by thieves or deserters. I got away, but I don’t know what happened to the injured men. I kept running, until last night. While I was sleeping, this beast found me and took me prisoner. He stole my horse and he won’t release me. Please, you must—”
Blane shouted, “I didn’t say give us your life story! She makes for real good protection. She could make for more if I had the time,” he alleged, capturing her chin and crushing his mouth down on hers.
Before making contact, Shannon heard him whisper, “Fight me.”
She obeyed, struggling fiercely and futilely in his grasp. When his lips left hers, she sneered, “You animal! My father and brothers will hunt you down and slay you for this offense! Have you no honor or manners, sir? You will die in Dixie, you repulsive rogue!”
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