A Rose in No-Man's Land (32 page)

Suddenly, his control snapped. He drove his shaft into the deepest recesses of her hot moist womanhood, thrusting, parrying, knowing he could stay there for as long as he wanted. No need for him to withdraw before he reached his climax now. They moved together in a frenzied passion, moaning and gasping with pleasure, wanting more than they had ever experienced before.

When his lovemaking reached its explosive climax, Amy knew an overwhelming surge of happiness. In case he moved away, she wrapped her legs around his waist, using her hands to caress his perspiration-soaked back and buttocks.

“Amy, Amy,” he gasped between deep, carnal kisses. “I love you more than life itself.”

When he started to harden inside her again, their passion re-ignited, but it was a gentle coupling this time. The fierce flames of desire too long denied had been quenched. Now they were left with only an exquisite tenderness, a blending of both body and soul. She felt like weeping at the sheer beauty of what they shared.

“You’re so beautiful. What did I ever do to deserve an angel like you?” He rested his cheek between her breasts. “Even though I’ll be back in the trenches in a couple of days, if we were married, I’d be the happiest man in the world.”

He ran the flat of his hand across her stomach. “You’ve put on some weight already. Another few weeks and people will be able to tell.”

“Loose clothing will hide my condition for ages, so stop worrying about it. Olive will look out for me. Charlie too, for that matter.” She tried to reassure him because he sounded so anxious.

“Let’s have a little snooze before we confront Louise,” she murmured, her eyelids drooping.

When her eyes closed, he levered himself up on one elbow so he could gaze upon her. He wanted to imprint her beauty on his brain so that after he returned to the trenches he would have something special to sustain him, even in his darkest hour.

Olive and Charlie were not his kind of people, but they were kind souls who had taken Amy under their wing and into their hearts. He was grateful and would try to think of some way to repay them. What might have happened if she had not found shelter with them didn’t bear thinking about.

He lay quietly now, listening to her breathing, alternating his gaze from her to the crackling flames in the hearth. His eyes grew heavy, even though he fought to keep them open. Finally it became too much of an effort, so he closed them and drifted into sleep.

Amy woke up first. She yawned, stretching like a contented kitten before cuddling back into Mark.
I could stay like this forever, but Louise
must be faced.
She couldn’t let him go back to that awful house on his own to face a vicious, horrible woman who had turned his life into a living hell, purely for revenge.

She kissed his puckered lips and rubbed her knuckles across his cheek. “Wake up, sleepyhead.”

He mumbled something and rolled over.

“Come on. It’s nearly time for us to confront Louise in her lair.”

“What time is it?” He glanced at his watch. “We’ve still got some time left.” He kissed her on the lips, then moved his mouth to nuzzle the warm flesh of her throat. His hand cupped her breast, his thumb caressing her nipple in a slow circular motion, and passion flared like an incendiary device between them.

When he pulled Amy onto his throbbing manhood, she laid her palms on his chest. Her breasts almost touched his face. Groaning with pleasure, he pushed them together so he could take both nipples into his mouth at once. Excitement coursed through him when she reared back, leaning against his drawn-up knees, taking him in even deeper until his shaft was buried up to its hilt. Her head was thrown back, her neck arched, her hair flowing down over his legs.

“Move on me, darling,” he pleaded huskily.

Amy shocked herself by doing as he asked. She felt wanton, uninhibited, because she was with Mark, a man she loved more than life itself. Feeling satiated and at peace, they dozed off again.

“Hell, it’s nearly five.” He jumped out of bed. “I suppose I should have a shave, but there isn’t time.” He rubbed his palm across his jaw.

He threw a couple of logs on the fire so the room would be nice and cozy when they returned. As they hurried toward the car, Amy was glad the hotel lady didn’t see them and guess what they had been up to. With luck, they might miss her when they came back tonight, as well.

“How did a well-brought-up young lady like you, er, how did you know, well, I mean, in our room.”

She watched in surprise as red tinged Mark’s cheeks. “I read about it.”

“What!”

“Didn’t you like it?” she teased, feeling wanton; she certainly wasn’t “a good girl” anymore.

“You know damn well I liked it.” He gave a low, feral growl.

“I found a ripped-out page from a book screwed up under a chest of drawers at Olive’s. I couldn’t understand the foreign writing, but I memorized the pictures.”

“Hell, was there only one page?”

“Yes. I searched the place thoroughly, too. Must have belonged to her son Freddy. I know it used to be his room. Olive would kill him if she knew.”

“I think I’ve corrupted you, Sister Amy, turned you into a wicked, wanton woman.”

This teasing banter was yet another facet of the complex character of Major Mark Tremayne, and she loved it.

He drove fast, but as he got closer to the house, his mood changed and he became tense, morose.

The housekeeper greeted them at the door again, her welcome as frigid as before. “Miss Montgomery will be with you in about ten minutes,” she said, showing them into the study.

What a horrible old battleaxe.

While they waited for Louise, Amy kept glancing at Mark, who sat behind the desk with his hands clenched. His features might well have been cast from granite.

Ten minutes turned into fifty, and her back started to ache from the hardness of the chair. Time passed slowly, as they did not speak after the first few minutes. He had sunk into a brooding silence she felt powerless to penetrate.

“What are you doing in my house?” asked a chisel-sharp voice. Mark stood up, his twisted smile scarcely veiling his hostility.

“This house happens to be mine. Hand over Edwina’s letter, and the house is yours, with a generous lifetime allowance, as well.”

The tall, ebony-haired woman swept up to the desk. “Never.”

“Name your price.”

She pulled a letter from her pocket and waved it near his face. “You couldn’t afford to pay it.” She swung around to face Amy. “Is this the trollop you wish to marry? Rather on the insipid side. I thought your tastes ran to dark, sophisticated types.”

“I’m warning you, watch your mouth,” he snarled. “I could easily cut off your allowance. Then how would you play lady of the manor?”

Amy stood up and took a couple of steps toward the door, as hate reverberated around the room. “I think I’d prefer to wait outside.”

Pebble-hard eyes probed every inch of her body until she felt naked. She suddenly knew for certain Louise would never agree to hand over the incriminating letter. She might love money, but hatred of Mark consumed her. This woman was insane. Her heart constricted, because he would never be free to marry her until this witch was dead.

“Ah, he’s got you with child.” The maniacal laugh shivered along Amy’s nerve endings. “Does your gentleman’s conscience baulk at siring a bastard?”

He sprang up from the chair and grabbed Louise by the shoulders. “So help me, I’ll kill you if I have to.”

In shocked horror, Amy watched as Louise’s talonlike nails gouged into the flesh of his cheek.

“Stop it.” She tried to intervene, but with the strength borne of madness, Louise shoved her so hard she hurtled across the room.

“Are you all right?” Mark rushed over to her.

“Yes, I think so. My arms hurt. I used them to take the full impact of the fall.”

Still kneeling, he swung his head toward Louise. “I want you out of my house,” he snarled.

“And let the likes of her get all the money? It’s mine. I’ll never give it up. I’ll take Edwina’s letter to the police.” Her voice reached an hysterical crescendo.

“Oh, Amy, I wish you hadn’t witnessed such a dreadful…”

“Mark,” Amy screamed, instinctively pulling him to one side. His cry of agony could not mask the sickening thud of metal against bone as Louise buried one of the battleaxes into his shoulder, just missing his head by a fraction.

Ashen-faced, he toppled to the floor and lay in an ever-widening pool of blood.

“No!” Amy flung herself at Louise, who had raised the axe to finish him off.

They grappled like two starving animals over one prey. Desperation to save Mark from this lunatic lent Amy the strength to push her over and bang the woman’s head up and down on the floor until Louise went limp.

“Get a doctor,” she screamed at the housekeeper when she arrived on the scene.

Amy ripped the skirt of her petticoat and made a pad with some of it. The rest of the cloth she made into a tight bandage to staunch Mark’s bleeding. His face had not a vestige of color left in it. His eyes, when they opened, were glazed with pain, yet he tried to get up.

“Lie still. I’ve sent the housekeeper for a doctor.”

“Lucky you pushed me. She’d have split my head open, otherwise.”

“I know. I knocked her unconscious.”

“Did you? Oh, my lovely girl, you fought for me.”

His skin shining with perspiration, he groaned with the agony of maneuvering himself into a sitting position. “Quick, get the letter and tear it up.”

She went over to where Louise lay and rummaged in her pocket until she found the letter. Glancing at it, she made sure it was the one Edwina had written, then tore it up into tiny pieces. After all these years, Mark was finally freed from the power of this evil woman. She couldn’t hurt him or Edwina any more.

Chapter 18

The next couple of days turned into a nightmare. After a local doctor arrived and did what he could, Mark was taken to a nearby military hospital. Amy rang Olive, then spent hours pacing the corridors and the room allocated to her while the army surgeons operated on him. She was so distraught Olive volunteered to come and stay with her, but she couldn’t let her friend jeopardize her livelihood by closing up the café.

Would Mark lose his arm? She thought of Guy. He at least had a stump. Oh, God, help him, please. Could this be their punishment for going against the Bible’s teaching? She rocked backwards and forwards on the hard wooden bench, trying to control her tears.

“Please, don’t let him die,” she whispered over and over again.

“Sister Smithfield.”

“Yes, sir.” She jumped to her feet when the doctor spoke. “Is he all right?”

“Yes, Major Tremayne is doing well under the circumstances.”

“Were you able to save his arm?”

“Yes, but we’re not sure how much nerve damage he suffered, since the wound is so deep, and the muscles and tendons have been sliced through in places. He’ll probably never regain full strength in his arm, so I think his days as an infantry officer might be over.”

“Thank you.” She started to move away, feeling lightheaded with relief. Mark was safe. He wouldn’t have to go back to the trenches.

“Sister, how are you feeling?”

“I feel well, now I know Mark is going to be all right.”

“Major Tremayne told us what happened, what you did. He’s worried about you and the child. No bleeding? Backache?”

“No, I really do feel fine now, thank you. Just a little tired.”

“You’re a plucky young lady.”

“I didn’t do much.” She stared at the floor. “Whatever I did was to save Mark. I probably would have fainted otherwise.”

“You should rest. Someone will come and get you when he wakes up.”

After another few hours of agonized waiting in her tiny room, Amy was allowed to see Mark. He lay in a bed by the wall, his arm and shoulder swathed in bandages.

“Don’t look so distraught, darling. I’m as strong as an ox.” He gave a lopsided grin.

Tears poured down her cheeks. “I thought you might die, or lose your arm.”

“You know I wouldn’t let anything like that happen, when we’ve got so many things to do. Sit on the bed. You look ready to pass out.”

“I am, but only with relief.”

She slumped on the white quilt with a large red cross on it. “Matron said I could stay here for a few days until I find suitable lodgings near the hospital. I got myself in such a state when I spoke to Olive on the phone that she wanted to shut the café and come straight up, but I’m all right now.” She blinked back tears.

His face looked bleached and drawn, but the awful grayness had disappeared.

“Kiss me, my lovely girl, so I can sleep with the taste of your lips on mine. You must take care of yourself now.”

****

Amy woke up when a cheerful young nurse brought in a breakfast tray. “How are you feeling now, Sister? Everyone in the hospital is talking about what you did.”

“I don’t know why.” She rested herself on one elbow.

“You must love him very much to risk your life. Were you scared?” the girl asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“There wasn’t time to be afraid. Do you know how Major Tremayne is?”

“Resting comfortably.”

Was Louise dead? Amy suddenly remembered her. Would the police call it murder? Fear formed a lump in her throat. Would she and Mark be separated now, after all they had gone through?

“Sister, are you ill?”

“What?” Life tingled back into her limbs. “I was wondering about Miss Montgomery.”

“She’s dead.”

A sudden roaring noise almost ruptured Amy’s eardrums. “I killed her?” Murdered her!

“Didn’t you know? She went completely off her head, attacked the housekeeper, then barricaded herself inside her bedroom. The housekeeper went to get the police, and by the time they arrived, the house was on fire. It burned to the ground with Miss Montgomery in it.”

****

When Amy woke up next, it was quite dark, and remembered horror had her struggling to get out of bed.

“Lie still.” Mark spoke close to her ear. “You’ve been asleep for twenty-four hours.” His face floated on a misty cloud before her eyes.