of it. You’re not fit company for my son, so keep away from him.” She whirled on her heel and stomped away.
Unwilling to be bested by the acid-tongued little witch, Nick slid from his horse and grasped Aimee about the waist, swinging her around to face him. “Let’s get one thing straight, Mrs. Trevor. You, your son, this house, and everything here are mine to command. I strongly suggest you obey me in all things and do nothing to invite my anger. If you behave, no harm will come to you. But I’m giving you fair warning—if you go too far, my good graces will end. Do you think I’m stupid? If not for me and my men, you would slowly starve to death. Be grateful I haven’t ordered you to yield to me in … other ways. Some men I know wouldn’t be so considerate.”
“Considerate!” Aimee’s eyes flashed indignantly.“Yankees aren’t considerate, they’re devils. They’ve raped our land and our women, and stolen our birthright. What can I hope to leave Brand when he’s grown? A wreck of a house with no money to pay the taxes or feed a family? Land ravaged by war, and no one to work its fallow acres? A legacy of death and destruction? I haven’t even begun to enumerate the wrongs you’ve personally done to me. Go away, just go away!”
Aimee’s bitter recriminations stunned and bewildered Nick. He’d done nothing so terrible to her that he knew about. Nor had he asked anything of her that she wasn’t prepared to relinquish to any other man to whom she owed a debt of honor. She had probably repaid many a debt in the same manner. That she’d been harboring a grudge against him all these years gave him pause. Was it because he had left her so abruptly the next morning?
“I’m sorry you feel that way, Mrs. Trevor, but I have an important job to do here that makes my presence necessary. As for your son, the lad seems to enjoy mingling with my men, and I’ll not interfere with that enjoyment. He’s had little enough pleasure in his young life, and he reminds my men of the children they left behind. No one would dare harm him.”
Having said all he was going to on the subject, he turned on his heel and strode away, leaving Aimee fuming in impotent rage. Having Nick Drummond walk into her life again brought back bittersweet memories she’d rather forget.
Chapter 3
… H e touched his tongue to her nipple. She shivered in response. He told her that her body was made for love. He lowered the dress down her hips and legs and lifted her from the circle of cloth. Her petticoats and underwear followed in quick order. She stood before him clad only in shoes and stockings held up by frilly garters, shivering as his hot gaze slid over her. His eyes worshiped every place they touched—and they touched everywhere. Her shivering increased. He told her he wouldn’t hurt her, that he only wanted to love her. Then he swept her off her feet and placed her on the bed
.
Taking her foot in his hand, he slowly peeled the stocking from her leg, nuzzling the soft white inside of her thigh, her calf, her instep. He repeated the process with the other leg. Then he sat back on his heels and removed his jacket and shirt. The sight of his muscular chest captivated her, and she stared transfixed at the thick mat of curly black hair that disappeared into the waistband of his trousers. When he stood to remove his trousers, she tore her eyes away. But his husky, seductive whisper urging her to look at him brought her glazed eyes back to his magnificent body. He slid his trousers and underwear down his hips and legs in onesmooth motion and stood before her as God had created him—wonderfully male, arrogant, proud, fully erect. Her eyes paused briefly at the juncture of his legs, then opened wide in alarm and disbelief as they flew up to his face. He was so …
“Aimee, are you all right, honey?” Savannah had walked into the parlor to find Aimee staring into space, her eyes unfocused, her body rigid.
Aimee started
Unwilling to be bested by the acid-tongued little witch, Nick slid from his horse and grasped Aimee about the waist, swinging her around to face him. “Let’s get one thing straight, Mrs. Trevor. You, your son, this house, and everything here are mine to command. I strongly suggest you obey me in all things and do nothing to invite my anger. If you behave, no harm will come to you. But I’m giving you fair warning—if you go too far, my good graces will end. Do you think I’m stupid? If not for me and my men, you would slowly starve to death. Be grateful I haven’t ordered you to yield to me in … other ways. Some men I know wouldn’t be so considerate.”
“Considerate!” Aimee’s eyes flashed indignantly.“Yankees aren’t considerate, they’re devils. They’ve raped our land and our women, and stolen our birthright. What can I hope to leave Brand when he’s grown? A wreck of a house with no money to pay the taxes or feed a family? Land ravaged by war, and no one to work its fallow acres? A legacy of death and destruction? I haven’t even begun to enumerate the wrongs you’ve personally done to me. Go away, just go away!”
Aimee’s bitter recriminations stunned and bewildered Nick. He’d done nothing so terrible to her that he knew about. Nor had he asked anything of her that she wasn’t prepared to relinquish to any other man to whom she owed a debt of honor. She had probably repaid many a debt in the same manner. That she’d been harboring a grudge against him all these years gave him pause. Was it because he had left her so abruptly the next morning?
“I’m sorry you feel that way, Mrs. Trevor, but I have an important job to do here that makes my presence necessary. As for your son, the lad seems to enjoy mingling with my men, and I’ll not interfere with that enjoyment. He’s had little enough pleasure in his young life, and he reminds my men of the children they left behind. No one would dare harm him.”
Having said all he was going to on the subject, he turned on his heel and strode away, leaving Aimee fuming in impotent rage. Having Nick Drummond walk into her life again brought back bittersweet memories she’d rather forget.
Chapter 3
… H e touched his tongue to her nipple. She shivered in response. He told her that her body was made for love. He lowered the dress down her hips and legs and lifted her from the circle of cloth. Her petticoats and underwear followed in quick order. She stood before him clad only in shoes and stockings held up by frilly garters, shivering as his hot gaze slid over her. His eyes worshiped every place they touched—and they touched everywhere. Her shivering increased. He told her he wouldn’t hurt her, that he only wanted to love her. Then he swept her off her feet and placed her on the bed
.
Taking her foot in his hand, he slowly peeled the stocking from her leg, nuzzling the soft white inside of her thigh, her calf, her instep. He repeated the process with the other leg. Then he sat back on his heels and removed his jacket and shirt. The sight of his muscular chest captivated her, and she stared transfixed at the thick mat of curly black hair that disappeared into the waistband of his trousers. When he stood to remove his trousers, she tore her eyes away. But his husky, seductive whisper urging her to look at him brought her glazed eyes back to his magnificent body. He slid his trousers and underwear down his hips and legs in onesmooth motion and stood before her as God had created him—wonderfully male, arrogant, proud, fully erect. Her eyes paused briefly at the juncture of his legs, then opened wide in alarm and disbelief as they flew up to his face. He was so …
“Aimee, are you all right, honey?” Savannah had walked into the parlor to find Aimee staring into space, her eyes unfocused, her body rigid.
Aimee started
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