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Authors: Connie Mason
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look. “My horse threw a shoe and I had to return. Are you going to answer my question?”
“I wanted to pick berries.”
“So Lieutenant Dill told me. You deliberatelylied to him. You knew I never gave you permission to go into the forest by yourself.”
Aimee held her ground despite his simmering anger. “I thought a pie would taste good tonight.”
Grasping her arm, Nick gave her a vicious shake. “Forget the pie, Aimee; don’t you know how dangerous it is traipsing through the woods by yourself? There are deserters and marauders out there who would make short work of you.” Suddenly his green eyes narrowed suspiciously and he asked, “What are you
really
doing out here?” He peered around warily, his hand resting on his gun.
Aimee flushed, her eyes fearful as she followed the direction of Nick’s gaze. She fervently prayed Gar was long gone by now. “I told you, I was gathering berries. Let me go!”
He released her so abruptly that she fell to her knees. “Where are the berries?”
His question startled her. “I—I must have forgotten them.”
“You ventured into the woods specifically to gather berries and forgot them?” He stared at her doubtfully.
“My mind must have wondered and I walked off without them. I’ll go back for them now.”
“Not without me.” He grasped her wrist and pulled her deeper into the woods, stomping around trees and underbrush until they came to the berry patch. The bucket sat on the ground, overflowing with plump blackberries.
“I told you so,” Aimee crowed triumphantly.
“So you did,” Nick said slowly. His vivid green eyes seemed to pierce into the very core of her, accusing,menacing—terrifying. “Pardon me if I don’t believe you.”
Aimee drew herself up to her full five feet three. “May I leave now? I should get started on the pie if we’re to have it for supper.”
A tense, awkward silence followed as they glowered at each other, each defying the other to make the first move.
Nick’s control snapped first. He had deliberately kept his distance from Aimee during the past weeks, mindful of the hatred she bore him. But not a minute went by when he was not profoundly aware of her presence, of her icy disdain. He noted the difference three square meals a day had made on her thin body, and he was grateful he had arrived when he did. Her lovely face had grown softer. Her patched gown no longer hung askew on her slim frame. Now it hugged her curves provocatively. There was a fragile radiance about her that no other woman possessed.
She was incredibly erotic. Her eyelashes were dark gold and thick. Her sultry features exuded a potent sexuality that was almost palpable. The aching need that arose in him each time he looked at Aimee suddenly exploded as he spun her around to face him. His eyes darkened and he gave a long, moaning sigh as he pulled her close. Against the softness of her breasts Aimee could feel the rocklike fortress of his chest. Nick gave in to the devils driving him and kissed her. Like it or not, Aimee was quickly becoming an obsession with him.
Aimee was doomed. She felt trapped. She wanted to run from the comforting closeness of his big body, and from the unfamiliar lethargic feelingturning her legs into lumps of wood. Why did Nick Drummond affect her like this? she wondered resentfully. Why did the memory of Beau fade from her mind as if he never existed the moment this man took her into his arms?
His mouth was hard, hot, incredibly demanding, insulting—tempting. Too damn tempting as her arms suddenly developed a will of their own and crept upward to wind around his neck. She was drowning in his heat, his taste, his delicious masculine scent. Aimee’s tentative response drew a groan from Nick’s lips. When he broke off the kiss, a devilish grin settled on his roguish features.
“I told you before not to touch me!” said Aimee hotly.
“Are you going to tell me you didn’t like that?”
“I hated it. I hate
“I wanted to pick berries.”
“So Lieutenant Dill told me. You deliberatelylied to him. You knew I never gave you permission to go into the forest by yourself.”
Aimee held her ground despite his simmering anger. “I thought a pie would taste good tonight.”
Grasping her arm, Nick gave her a vicious shake. “Forget the pie, Aimee; don’t you know how dangerous it is traipsing through the woods by yourself? There are deserters and marauders out there who would make short work of you.” Suddenly his green eyes narrowed suspiciously and he asked, “What are you
really
doing out here?” He peered around warily, his hand resting on his gun.
Aimee flushed, her eyes fearful as she followed the direction of Nick’s gaze. She fervently prayed Gar was long gone by now. “I told you, I was gathering berries. Let me go!”
He released her so abruptly that she fell to her knees. “Where are the berries?”
His question startled her. “I—I must have forgotten them.”
“You ventured into the woods specifically to gather berries and forgot them?” He stared at her doubtfully.
“My mind must have wondered and I walked off without them. I’ll go back for them now.”
“Not without me.” He grasped her wrist and pulled her deeper into the woods, stomping around trees and underbrush until they came to the berry patch. The bucket sat on the ground, overflowing with plump blackberries.
“I told you so,” Aimee crowed triumphantly.
“So you did,” Nick said slowly. His vivid green eyes seemed to pierce into the very core of her, accusing,menacing—terrifying. “Pardon me if I don’t believe you.”
Aimee drew herself up to her full five feet three. “May I leave now? I should get started on the pie if we’re to have it for supper.”
A tense, awkward silence followed as they glowered at each other, each defying the other to make the first move.
Nick’s control snapped first. He had deliberately kept his distance from Aimee during the past weeks, mindful of the hatred she bore him. But not a minute went by when he was not profoundly aware of her presence, of her icy disdain. He noted the difference three square meals a day had made on her thin body, and he was grateful he had arrived when he did. Her lovely face had grown softer. Her patched gown no longer hung askew on her slim frame. Now it hugged her curves provocatively. There was a fragile radiance about her that no other woman possessed.
She was incredibly erotic. Her eyelashes were dark gold and thick. Her sultry features exuded a potent sexuality that was almost palpable. The aching need that arose in him each time he looked at Aimee suddenly exploded as he spun her around to face him. His eyes darkened and he gave a long, moaning sigh as he pulled her close. Against the softness of her breasts Aimee could feel the rocklike fortress of his chest. Nick gave in to the devils driving him and kissed her. Like it or not, Aimee was quickly becoming an obsession with him.
Aimee was doomed. She felt trapped. She wanted to run from the comforting closeness of his big body, and from the unfamiliar lethargic feelingturning her legs into lumps of wood. Why did Nick Drummond affect her like this? she wondered resentfully. Why did the memory of Beau fade from her mind as if he never existed the moment this man took her into his arms?
His mouth was hard, hot, incredibly demanding, insulting—tempting. Too damn tempting as her arms suddenly developed a will of their own and crept upward to wind around his neck. She was drowning in his heat, his taste, his delicious masculine scent. Aimee’s tentative response drew a groan from Nick’s lips. When he broke off the kiss, a devilish grin settled on his roguish features.
“I told you before not to touch me!” said Aimee hotly.
“Are you going to tell me you didn’t like that?”
“I hated it. I hate
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