This Rebel Heart

by Patricia Hagan

  Together they struggled to pull it along with them. Once they reached the sandy beach, Julie fell onto the sand, clutching the precious grains in her hands, laughing with the delight of a child as she watched them dribble through her fingers. "I never thought I'd touch land again," she cried. "Oh, Derek, we are going to make it. I know we are."

  But he was not listening to her exuberant talk. She looked up to see him running up the beach to find what vegetation existed. "There's not a lot here," he yelled back. "But we can suck on leaves for water. We can chew bark if we have to. And I'll find dry wood and be ready to start a fire if we sight a ship."

  He turned back toward her, and she watched him running naked, his body a pinnacle of proud, masculine beauty as he exuded strength in his every movement. Whisking her into his arms as easily as though she were no more than a seashell, he whirled her around and around, and they laughed together joyfully, thankful for this much good fortune, at least.

  Then, slowly, he stopped turning about, setting her on her feet but still holding her close. They were naked, bodies touching, her nipples brushing against the thick, dark down on his massive chest.

  His hands moved down her back to cup her firm, rounded buttocks and press her against him. Lifting her slightly so that she stood on tiptoe, his erect shaft slid between her thighs, and she sighed aloud as he touched the special place that sent sweet-hot fires dancing through her loins.

  Gently he lowered her to the sand, easing his body down upon her. His mouth crushed against hers as she opened her legs to him, thrusting her buttocks upward to meet his first thrusts into the velvet recesses of her body.

  "How I have dreamed of this moment, this time," he murmured, his lips barely touching hers, his tongue moving to and fro, flicking at hers to tease her into a frenzy as his manhood pushed in and out. "There's never been a woman like you, Julie. There's never been a body like yours. It's like drenching myself in scalding honey and absorbing the sweet nectar into every pore of my body...."

  And she received him, all of him, marveling that her tiny body could accept such a magnificently built man. Her legs wrapped around his back to hold him even closer, wanting everything he had to give. That he should find her so attractive, so desirable, was beyond her realm of understanding. Any woman would revel in his embrace, but for the moment he was hers, every glorious inch of him, and she wanted this hour, this time, to continue for all eternity... just as relentlessly and unending as the foaming breakers crashing upon the shore....

  She felt the crescendo building from within the confines of her belly, and Derek felt it also, and he drove even harder into her. Her lips parted in a scream of ecstasy, and he shifted his weight so that his hard, muscular shoulder was pressed against her mouth.

  "Let me feel it," he commanded. "Let me feel your glory, Julie...

  And her teeth sank into the firm flesh, biting harder as each wave of passion shuddered through her body, and then he was crying out loud in ecstasy as he ground mercilessly into her, driving her buttocks into the rough sand, filling her with the glory of his seed.

  They lay together, neither wanting the moment to end. The closeness, the wonder of it all, was too overwhelming for either to comprehend.

  At last Derek rolled to his side, still penetrating her, holding her tightly. His lips mere inches from hers, he murmured, "Love me, Julie. Love me for all time, because now that I've found you, I'll never let you go again...."

  And then he was gently probing at her again, and the sweet passion was returning, dimmed for Julie only by the gnawing realization that he had demanded that she love him for all time—but he had professed no vows of undying devotion... he was taking, not giving, and despite the ecstasy that flowed through her veins, her heart shuddered with an unfamiliar sadness.

  Chapter 19

  Time seemed endless. Their world consisted of the sand, the sea, the stars, the sun... and the joy they found in each other's arms. It was as though life had no beginning, no end; there was only the sweet bliss of endless passion.

  The surf broke high, rolling over into tunnels and flashing in the sunlight as its froth crept along the shore. The sea oats blew lazily in the breeze.

  Julie liked the mornings best of all, when she would rise sleepily to the red sunrise, the sea looking like molten bronze. And each night she opened her thighs to meet Derek's deep thrusts with all the strength and vigor her body had to offer, holding nothing back. They became one entity, possessing all of each other, giving, taking, belonging only to one another.

  Derek had been disappointed to find that the crate contained only coffee taken aboard for the crew, but ruined by the seepage of sea water. He became adept at catching the small fish that swam in the surf close to the island. He caught some with his hands, but he also fashioned a crude spear from a piece of driftwood and a sharp conch shell. When the rains came, he and Julie would spread out the larger shells as cups, to catch the fresh water for drinking.

  Together they spread palm fronds from the trees to make a crude shelter, but as always, Julie felt completely protected with Derek's strong arms about her, had a secure sense that no harm could come as long as he held her against him.

  "Love me...." he would command as he took her, seemingly without end.

  And she obeyed, whispering the words he wanted to hear and realizing with each passing day that she meant them more and more.

  "What if we're never found?" she asked him one day as they frolicked together in the turquoise waters, their skin long since bronzed by the sun. "What if we have actually died, and this is our heaven, our Garden of Eden, to live in through all eternity?"

  He laughed, raising an eyebrow as he looked at her with fond amusement. "Would you really mind? You seem quite happy, misty eyes."

  "I would be," she said wistfully, "if it weren't for worrying about Myles, wondering if he's even alive and still in that miserable prison. We don't even know how long we've been here. Maybe the war is over."

  "I hope it is. There's been enough suffering on both sides."

  "At least we don't suffer. I'll admit I get tired of eating fish all the time and chewing leaves and bark, but we are managing to survive. We aren't skin and bones yet."

  His eyes raked over her, and as he led her from the foaming waters, she saw that he was aroused and knew that he wanted her again. Would he ever tire of her? She admitted secretly that she never ceased to thrill to his endless lovemaking; but then, he seemed to be a skilled, perfect lover. What woman could ask for more? But, she worried, for all she knew, he had taught her, and perhaps, after a time, he would become bored.

  He lowered himself onto the sand, lying on his back, arms folded behind his head, knees bent. The weather was warm, and they did not try to cover their nakedness with palm fronds.

  She stared down at him, marveling once again at his gloriously formed body. How could any man be built so perfectly?

  "Sometimes I hope we're never found," he murmured huskily, reaching to pull her down beside him, "because I can't get enough of you. And if we ever do get off this blasted island, you might want to leave me, and I don't want that to happen."

  "Derek, I don't want to leave you," she whispered, her fingers dancing through the thick, dark hairs that covered his chest. She wondered if he knew that she had fallen in love with him, but did he truly return that love?

  Suddenly Julie asked the question that had been burning within her for so long. "Derek, do you love me?"

  She heard the quick intake of his breath, and he was silent for so long that she had to fight the impulse to leap to her feet and run away lest he reject her in his usually blunt manner. She could feel the tears stinging her eyes, and did not want him to see her cry.

  But she forced herself to he still and wait, praying all the while that he would speak the words she longed to hear.

  "Julie.. He said her name in a sigh. "I've never felt this way about any woman. You mean a great deal to me. But to speak of love—"

  "You demand that I s
peak of it!" she snapped, unable to hide her bitterness. "Every time you take me, you ask me to say that I love you."

  "I want to hear the words. I like to think you mean them. But you don't. In your own way, Julie, you're using me. You enjoy what I give you, just as you take pleasure in what you give me. There's no one else for either of us right now, but when this is all over, what then? You'll expect me to help you free your brother, if he's still in that prison in Richmond."

  "Yes, I suppose I do expect that," she said candidly, moving out of the circle of his arms. "But you can afford to promise me that you will help me, because we both know there's a chance we may never leave this island."

  He nodded. "That's true. But let's suppose we do get off, and I help you rescue your brother. What will you want of me after that?"

  "I told you that I love you, and whether you believe me or not, Derek, I mean it."

  She flung herself across his chest, loving the feel of his body, the way he tensed as her fingers trailed downward to toy with the thick mat of hair about his manhood. "When Myles is free, I still want to be with you."

  "As my mistress?" He gave her that arrogant smile she hated.

  She jerked away once again, suddenly angry. "Would you love your mistress as you would love a wife?"

  He laughed, and that angered her even more. She tried to scramble to her feet, but his hand shot out to fasten around her arm, and as always, she was helpless in his powerful grasp.

  "Look, Julie, I never intend to marry any woman, no matter how beautiful she may be or how much she pleases me with her body. I've told you that I desire you more than I've ever desired any woman. I want to keep you with me always. More than that I can't and won't give. That has to be enough."

  Her angry eyes flashed and sparkled with red fires in a mist of green. "And if it isn't?"

  "It has to be," he said simply. "For now, we're together. If we ever get off this island and you do leave me, then it's over. You know I could never hurt you, although I'd probably want to if you left me. But if you go, then I'd just forget I ever knew your name, your face, and your beautiful, desirable body."

  He released her and she scrambled to her feet, still incensed by his bluntness and mirth.

  "I suppose I should try to find us something to eat," he yawned. "I can't feast on that luscious body of yours all the time, but you do wear me out, woman. I've always felt I was a better man than most when it came to satisfying a woman, but you are a challenge."

  She turned and began walking up the beach toward their palm-frond shelter. "Maybe I'll give you a rest," she said over her shoulder. "Maybe if I refuse to give you what you want every time you want it, you won't be so damned sure of yourself."

  "'Now that's a fine way for a genteel southern lady to talk," he laughed, getting to his feet. "And by the way, Julie, you've sure got a cute bottom. I like the way it bounces when you walk, especially when you're mad. When I finally make you my mistress, I think I want to keep you naked. So don't expect to be dressed in fine fashions as kept women usually are."

  "Damn you, Derek Arnhardt!" She whirled around to scream at him. "I'll never be your kept woman, and it'll be a damned long time before you take your pleasure with me again. I'm sick and tired of your smugness!"

  Still laughing, he started walking toward the water. "I'm not worried about your threats, Julie. All I have to do is touch the right places, and you'll squirm and scratch and bite and beg for more...."

  She stooped and grabbed the first thing she could find, a large conch shell, and she flung it at him, but he merely chuckled as he reached out to catch it easily with one hand.

  "Remember, " he called teasingly as she quickened her steps to hurry away from him, "I can always catch anything you throw my way, and so far, I've been able to throw back even more...."

  I hate him, she thought furiously as she threw herself down upon the dried palm fronds beneath the little shelter. I do hate him! I only think I love him, because he makes me say the words over and over, and we're here alone on this miserable island, and there's no one else, and I'm making myself think I love him to justify all that we have together! It can't be love! I won't let it be, because I could never, ever love such a beast!

  She struck at the sand with her tiny fist, cursing herself for letting him make her so angry. If only she could return his arrogance, his smugness...

  "Julie!"

  At first she ignored his call. Damn him, anyway, she thought. He was going to learn that she would not come running every time he beckoned.

  "Julie, come quick...."

  There was an urgency to his tone that she had never heard before. Forgetting her anger for the moment, she rose, moving quickly to peer out of the shelter to where he stood waist-deep in the water. Had he been stung by one of those jellylike creatures that were forever washing up on the beach and that he said would burn like fire if they touched you? Or was a shark nearby? Dear God, if he'd spotted one of those terrifying fins slicing through the water, then why was he standing there staring out at the open sea, his back to her, waving his arms wildly over his head and yelling at the top of his lungs?

  And then she realized what was happening. She could see it, too—so small it looked like one of the wooden carvings she'd been so fascinated to see the crusty old seamen whittle as they sat on the docks at Savannah. A ship! It really was a ship!

  She broke into a run, stumbling in the sand as she made her way to the foaming surf, wading in to stand beside Derek. He was so much taller, the water was up to her bare breasts while it only reached to his waist.

  "Is it a Confederate ship?" she cried, raising her arms to wave with him. "Can you tell?"

  "It doesn't matter," he said excitedly, turning around to splash his way back to the beach.

  She followed him, watching as he gathered the dried-out driftwood that they always kept for fires. In moments he had a blaze going that sent smoke skyward.

  "They should see that," he said anxiously, staring back at the murky waters. "They aren't that far out. Can't imagine what a ship would be doing nearby. We haven't seen one before."

  Suddenly he reached out and hugged her tightly against him. "Julie, I think they've seen us," he cried, and she could feel his body trembling. "Yes... yes, they have. I can tell. They're coming this way. We're saved, Julie! They're coming after us...."

  A strange emotion washed over her as she allowed herself to be lifted in his arms and swung about in jubilation. Derek did not notice that she was not smiling, did not share his enthusiasm. He finally set her back down on her feet, leaving her to run and stand at the water's edge and watch the ship's approach. Her mind was a jumble of confused thoughts. What if Yankees were approaching, and not Confederates? Would she and Derek be taken prisoner? And if it were a Rebel steamer, what then? Would Derek help her rescue Myles from the Black Hole?

  She shook her head, body trembling. Dear God, she did not know what she was supposed to feel at this moment in time. Should Myles be dead, or already freed and making a life of his own, in peace, what was there left for her to return to? Here, on this quiet island, she had found solitude and love, even though the love was obviously felt only on her part. At least there had been happiness and joy, but now, with rescue in sight, the future suddenly seemed more uncertain than ever.

  Suddenly, as though he finally remembered her presence, Derek turned. "Those clothes..." he called. "The ones we had when we arrived—get them. I know they're rags, but I don't want them to find us just standing here naked, Julie. Piece together what you can...

  And then he was facing the sea once again, turning his back on her and the life they had shared together, the passion, the bliss.

  Bitterly she walked to where they had tucked the remnants of clothing beneath a large rock, planning to fashion them into some kind of blanket should the weather ever turn cool. Yanking her tattered dress about her, she knotted the dangling sleeves across her breasts, cursing herself all the while. Here they were, about to be rescued—how could s
he be so foolish as to feel sad? It was ridiculous. Why, the world was waiting out there, a new life, and however confused and tumultuous she might find it, she would find a way to face it. There was no point in looking back now.

  She carried the remains of Derek's clothing to him, and he wrapped a piece of cloth around himself large enough to conceal his privates. Then they stood side by side, the lapping water foaming about their feet as they waited in silence.

  Soon they could make out a small rowboat moving steadily toward the island. Julie could feel Derek tensing beside her, knew that he was worrying over whether their rescuers would be Confederates or the enemy.

  Then they were able to see the faces of the three men in the boat. Two carried rifles, which were pointed straight at them. The third man sat in the bow, eyes narrowed as he studied them suspiciously. All were bearded and wore the clothes of men of the sea. There was no way to tell on which side they fought.

  One of the armed men lay down his weapon and jumped into the waist-deep water, leaping up now and then to ride a breaker as he guided the boat to the shore line. The seated man continued to stare, while the other kept his gun trained upon them. Derek did not move, but Julie had begun to tremble, and she sidled closer to him so that their bodies touched. His arm went about her protectively, and despite the tension of the moment, she felt a shudder of confidence at his nearness.

  The man who had been seated stood as the boat slid smoothly onto the beach. Parting tight-set lips he barked, "My name is Joseph Bosworth. I am first mate on the Judy T. This is Bradley Whitlock," he nodded to the man who had pulled them through the surf, then to the one holding the gun, "and this is Sherman Kiser. We are fishermen. Who might you be and why are you marooned here on this island?"

  "I'm Derek Arnhardt," Derek's voice rang out, clear, steady, and if fear mingled with the blood in his veins, it was not evident in his tone. "My ship was destroyed by the Federal blockade at Wilmington some time back. We don't know how long we've been here. But whether you are friend or foe, I pray we can be grateful that you've come to rescue us."