Destiny's Temprtress

by Janelle Taylor

  Shannon did not realize she was weeping softly until Blane pulled her into his arms and asked tenderly, “What’s wrong, Blue Eyes?”

  “Will it ever be over, Blane? What will happen to us?” she asked, crying against his chest.

  “The past is never over, love; it always controls or influences the present and future,” he told her, hugging her tightly to him. “But if we’re lucky, we’ll survive and be able to start over again. Get some sleep. You’ll feel better afterward.” Blane wanted to make love to her, but he knew they both needed rest. Their minds and bodies were exhausted. He was damn lucky Phillips hadn’t broken anything, but he was stiff and sore. “You saved my life, Shannon, and I’m grateful. Don’t blame yourself for me getting injured back there.”

  That was the problem; Shannon did blame herself. “If we get out of this alive, Blane, and reach Wilmington, I think we should part company,” she unthinkingly suggested.

  Blane lifted his head and gazed down at her. “Why?”

  Watery blue eyes focused on him. Her solemn gaze scanned his injuries. His lower lip was swollen, with a reddish blue split near one corner. One eye was darkened, with another small cut beside it. Several bruises were visible on his cheekbones, which would discolor even more with time. His nose was still slightly red. She cleared her throat and speculated, “Next time, I could get you killed. I’m too inexperienced and unskilled, Blane. We both know I’m a danger to you and your missions. Without me hanging around your neck, you could move around more quickly and safely. I know you turned yourself in yesterday to protect me. And if you weren’t so damn stubborn and proud, you would admit it. Look at your face. Phillips could have killed you. Did they tell you they were planning to hang you this morning?”

  He was moved by Shannon’s concern and anguish. Maybe he was crazy to keep her around, but not for the reason she was suggesting. He was being selfish, placing her life in constant peril. He had used up most of the excuses for keeping her wit h him, all except one. The fact hadn’t changed that if he left her somewhere, anywhere, her life would still be in danger. By now, too many Rebels knew about the Flame.

  As he caressed her cheek, Blane asked himself if he was falling in love with her. There was no doubt he possessed enormous desire for her, deep affection, and respect; and he didn’t mind her infringing on his time and privacy. She was invigorating, charming, comforting—and yes, distracting and endangering. He couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to Shannon. Blane pulled her tightly against him as he stroked her hair and back. He recalled telling Ellie that it was impossible to fall in love with someone so quickly after their first meeting. He had tried to convince Ellie that her feelings for Corry were simply physical desire. Could Shannon beguile him and desert him, as her brother had done to Ellie? If not for the war and her perilous situation, would she have looked at him twice? Would she be sharing passion with him right now? Could he hold her loyalty and affection if the war ended today? If Hawke suddenly returned?

  During his silent reverie, Shannon had regained control of herself. Now she entreated, “You know I’m right, Blane. This was a crazy idea from the start. I don’t belong here. It didn’t seem this dangerous and hard when I was planning it. I can see why you battled Silas and President Lincoln about my coming along; you knew I couldn’t succeed. You knew I’d be a threat to you and the Union. All of those times when we got into trouble, you could have extricated yourself in a flicker if I hadn’t been weighing you down. The best thing I can do is go home.”

  “All right, we’ll separate in Wilmington,” Blane agreed, noticing the crushing effect his words had on Shannon. He continued, “Until I complete my assignment. Then we head for Charleston as planned. I’ve gotten used to having you around, Blue Eyes. You’ve saved my life two times, and you constantly save my sanity.” He pushed straying curls from her pale face and smiled. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re learning fast. What happened to all that spunk and determination?”

  “I lost them when I saw you sacrificing your life for mine.”

  “You worry too much. I’ve gotten out of worse predicaments. Don’t you see, Flame; Fate put you there to rescue me. Are you sorry you came along? Sorry you’re stuck with me as a partner?” he teased, tugging on a lock of coppery hair.

  “Never. But you should feel that way,” she declared sincerely.

  “Why should I? I kind of enjoy the extra benefits of having you as my partner. Lincoln could never reward me as you do. I wouldn’t want you anywhere but right here. I’ll grant you a few weeks’ rest from me in Wilmington, but that’s all. This war has been long and hard. It drains a man. I need you to keep me living and feeling. I need you to keep me going and pushing.” He nuzzled her neck and made her laugh. “Make love to me, Flame,” he coaxed, suddenly needing her fiercely. He wanted to see, feel, and experience her total surrender. He wanted her to think of nothing and no one but him. He needed to read a matching desire in her eyes, to witness her utter abandon in his arms, to prove his hold over her emotions.

  Shannon lifted her head and gazed into his greenish brown eyes. “Here?” she questioned, glancing around them. “What if the soldiers come? Or Jeremy returns? Or another agent arrives?” She glanced at the many small openings in the latticework. “We have no privacy,” she argued, even as her heart began to beat wildly and her body warmed.

  “I’ll keep one eye and ear open for intruders. I want you, Shannon. I need to feel you next to me, as close as possible. Life can end so swiftly. I need to know you’re mine. Let’s prove we’re still alive, prove we’re together and nothing else matters.”

  “But you’re hurt, Blane,” she reminded him hoarsely. She tentatively touched his cheek and mouth. “I’m to blame for this.”

  He captured her hand and kissed each fingertip. He guided it to his swollen manhood. “This is the only thing you’re to blame for, love, and it hurts far more than a few cuts and bruises. Right now, you’re the only thing that matters to me. I need to be held tightly in your arms. I need to be a part of you, Shannon, a part that no one else has known. I need you to feel the same way.”

  “I do feel the same way, Blane,” she confessed shamelessly.

  Blane smiled and kissed her nose. He rose to a hunched position, reached for the oilcloth, and withdrew his knife. He made several holes along one side, then suspended it from nails along a center porch beam. “If anyone does peek in, they won’t see anything. This area is too long, and that dark backdrop will prevent any silhouettes from showing against the light at the far end.” Blane didn’t say that making love on an oilcloth could be noisy. He spread two blankets on the ground and made certain everything was out of their reach, that there was nothing to touch that could make alerting sounds if intruders arrived. Blane expected they would sometime today. Having taken all of the precautions he could, he stripped off his pants and lay down. Rolling to his side and propping his jaw on a balled fist, he looked at Shannon.

  The morning sun had vanished behind swiftly gathering storm clouds, concealing much of their light. Between the suspended oilcloth and the heavy foliage around their end of the porch, the area was very dim, but not enough so that he could not see her face. She was sitting on the edge of the blanket with her legs folded beneath her. She looked apprehensive, shy, afraid. To her, this setting was intimidating rather than romantic. “Are you all right, Shannon? If this bothers—”

  Shannon bent forward and lightly placed her hand over his mouth to silence him. Making love in a secret place where they could be discovered and entrapped by enemies at any moment was frightening. But although she had not yet become adjusted to this kind of total intimacy between them, she craved him fiercely, so she battled her apprehensions.

  Blane understood her insecurities and fears. He gently pulled her hand from his lips. “If this troubles you, Shannon, we don’t have to make love here and now.” He sat up and pulled her head to his chest, wanting to show her that his feelings went deeper than mere physical desire. He
dropped kisses on her forehead and hair. “I want to make love, Shannon, but I won’t be angry if you don’t feel the same.”

  Shannon lifted her head and peered into the everincreasing dimness to meet his sensitive gaze. Her fingertips gently brushed over his bronzed face with its bold display of concern for her. She had almost lost him forever. He was so perceptive and understanding.

  Leisurely and unknowingly, her fingers began to drift over his shoulders and arms. She pressed him to his back on the blankets. Her palms sensuously wandered over his chest and shoulders, as she relished the feel of his skin and inhaled his manly scent. The light had diminished even more during the last few moments, but she didn’t need sight to enjoy his splendid physique. She opened her mind and pores to pure sensation. To think of making carefree love beneath this dark porch while numerous enemies were frantically searching for them now seemed exciting and tantalizing. It was like showing contempt for danger and death. It provided her with a heady sense of power and stimulation. It made her feel erotic and earthy. Amid countless perils, they were halting to fuse their bodies and spirits savagely and blissfully. They were encased in their own private haven where they could do or say whatever they pleased. Her body tingled. Was this impetuous? Daring? Audacious? Yes!

  Shannon leaned back and unbuttoned her dress. She was aware of Blane’s intense gaze and erratic breathing as she slipped it over her shoulders and dropped it beside the blanket. She unlaced her chemise and removed it, then her bloomers. She tossed them on the discarded gown. She unbraided her hair and shook it free, allowing it to settle in carefree abandon over her ivory shoulders and supple breasts. Then she bent forward and kissed the right side of his mouth. Her tongue carefully roamed his lips and danced wildly with his. “The only thing I feel, Blane, is desire for you. I want you with every part of me.”

  Blane rolled Shannon to her back. Her hair fanned out around her head, enticing Blane’s fingers to rush into it and savor its silky texture. He tried to kiss every spot on her face. His mouth took hers hungrily and he ignored the discomfort of his lower lip. Then his mouth roamed down her creamy neck, assailing every inch of it. She squirmed and giggled when he playfully ravished her ears, his warm breath and rich laughter inflaming her. His mouth captured one breast point and greedily tormented it with kisses and gentle bites. His tongue flickered over it and around it, mischievously teasing its taut peak, then moving to the other to repeat his stirring actions.

  Shannon writhed on the blanket, closing her eyes and opening her senses to experience exquisite pleasure and rapturous torment. Blane’s lips played over her ribs and attacked her navel. There, his tongue tickled her and caused her to squirm and laugh. His mouth fastened to her breast as his hand stroked over her abdomen and entered a red patch of fuzzy hair. When his finger made contact with the throbbing peak, she moaned and grasped his head to pull it closer to her entreating breast. He stimulated the aching bud until it burst into full bloom and she was quivering and thrashing with unsuppressed need.

  Blane moved between her thighs and looked down into her flushed face, which was barely visible in the waning light. He savored the look in her blue eyes and the way her body arched upward, pleading for his. He smiled roguishly and lowered his mouth to hers, sealing their lips tightly. His hard shaft tenderly plunged into her receptive womanhood. With slow deliberation, he thrust back and forth and from side to side with blissful expertise. He entered her deeply, until their groins touched, then he softly and seductively ground himself against her, tantalizing the susceptible bud once more. Shannon moaned and writhed as she was engulfed by passion’s flames.

  A thundering noise seized their attention. Both knew it was not a warning from the impending storm. A gasp of fear and panic left her lips as her head jerked toward the latticework section to her left. Blane read sheer terror in Shannon’s eyes. When her pale face turned upward, her probing gaze seemed to be questioning their fate. Then Blane’s palms covered her ears to block out all reality as he continued to make love to her.

  Chapter Ten

  It had taken Zachary Pike several hours to revive after Blane’s attack, to study this rankling development, to make plans to rescue the Southern beauty and to recapture the daring prisoner, and to ride off after them. Without disturbing General Moore’s slumber, Pike had ordered squads of three men each to search east, west, and north of their camp. He had led his seven-man unit southward, feeling certain that it was the right direction. Pike had hoped to overtake them within an hour or two, for he had not expected the fleeing man to travel rapidly with a delicate female, whether she was his prisoner or not.

  Pike wanted answers to some very distressing questions. Had the mysterious man whom they had captured yesterday kidnapped Shannon again? Or had the handsome rogue beguiled that delicate lady into aiding him? Pike could understand if Shannon was confused and angered, even enchanted. The Confederate soldiers had been willing to sacrifice her to take her abductor captive. Yet her captor had surrendered to his enemies rather than slay her or endanger her life. Shannon had observed the brutal treatment that chivalrous man had received, and perhaps she considered herself partly to blame. After all, Moore had not explained either the man’s beating or his willingness to let her be killed.

  Just as perturbing to Pike was the mystery surrounding that valiant captive. Perhaps the blue-eyed temptress had a good reason for assisting the man’s escape. The man was definitely a Southerner. But if he was not a Unionist, why had he remained silent? Was he a Confederate deserter, afraid of arrest and lethal punishment? Was he a criminal? Could he be Shannon’s brother or sweetheart, and she was simply defending him? The man was surely concealing something crucial. But was that ravishing redhead a part of it? Pike wanted to believe that she was not.

  The hoofprints on the main road revealed nothing more than that several people had traveled it recently. Pike concluded that the prisoner would expect them to think he would gallop hard and fast for Union lines; but being clever, the man might ride toward Wilmington. Along the way to town, he and his men would have to search every possible place of concealment.

  As he came to a side road, he noted that several people had ridden along it within the last day. Pike’s hopes soared as they reached the abandoned mansion. For him to halt and hide here would be cunning and daring! Pike was most respectful and envious of the man’s ingenuity.

  The troops dismounted and tied their reins to bushes near the porch, within a few feet of the two they sought. Pike ordered his men to scour the house, sheds, barns, and yard. “Look under, around, in, behind, and over everything. Even if it doesn’t look big enough to conceal a dog, search it! Check out the trees and under those large bushes. Two of you men make sure those old haystacks aren’t being used and inspect the corn crib and loft. Jeb, you ferret through that overgrown garden and under that pile of trash and old lumber. You men searching the house, check for footprints in the floor dust before you disturb it. Don’t leave a closet or cabinet untouched, and move any furniture left. Examine every large piece.”

  Pike ran his fingers through his mussed sable hair. His sherry-colored eyes sparkled with determination and ancitipation. “Tim, you look around in the attic, and see if there’s a cellar. If there’s any way to get on the roof, check it too. Leave nothing untouched. This man is a master of guile. If you have to, shoot him. But don’t harm the girl.”

  “What if she’s on his side and shoots at us, Lieutenant Pike?”

  “Don’t be a fool, Jeb!” Pike ranted as his tension mounted. “If she were his accomplice, would she have left camp without her shoes and belongings? She rode out barefoot because that infernal Yank abducted her after he knocked me out. Probably forced her to remove them to prevent noise.” From their placement, Pike knew that was not true.

  “How do you think he got untied, sir?”

  Pike played with his dark brown mustache before answering the private. “Beats me, Tim. I know Miss Greenleaf didn’t help him. Jimbo said the man got free and atta
cked him, and nobody else was around. The only time she went near him, I was with her. She couldn’t have passed him a weapon. Besides, she was with me when he escaped. He probably saw us together and decided to kidnap her for a hostage.”

  “It could be he got fond of her while holding her captive.”

  Pike scowled. “That’s what has me so worried. If I’ve guessed right, he headed for Wilmington to throw us off the trail. If we’re lucky, he’s hiding around this place; so we had better scour it thoroughly. If there’s one thing I learned from his capture, he does the unexpected and he’s damned cocky. I just wish I knew who and what he is…”

  “The sky’s looking bad, sir. We’d best git started with the search. We’ll be mighty cold if we git wet.”

  The soldiers went in their assigned directions. For half an hour, the Rebels diligently examined the house and grounds. Blane could hear the progress of the troops and Pike’s angry bursts of words as each man reported a failure to discover them or any clues. He had heard the first talk between Pike and his men, so he knew Pike was laboring under false impressions or wishful dreams. He kept aware of the soldiers’ progress as they searched the house, yard, barns, and sheds.

  Knowing how badly Pike was aching and lusting for Shannon while he was making sweet, brazen, savage love to her within a few feet of that man drove Blane wild with excitement and power. He drove sensuously and feverishly into Shannon’s body, being careful not to release her mouth or to remove his hands from her ears. He moved within her in such a way as to tease and to heighten her passions but not appease them. He didn’t want her crying out from ecstasy, not yet. Besides, he wanted her totally distracted from the peril around them. He was glad to hold her captive in a dreamy world of rapture.