“Hester is not happy.” Lars looked up from where he poured the amber colored liquid into glasses. His gaze landed on James and he lifted an eyebrow.
“When is that woman ever happy?” Charles Steele mumbled to his sons. “Lars, what has her stalking about my house this evening?”
“She is upset by James’s guest,” Lars stated.
“Ah, yes.” Mr. Steele accepted the drink Lars offered. “Why don’t you tell us about your guest, James.” He settled into an oversized chair in front of the cold mantel and pulled his pipe from the drawer of the table next to it.
James ran his hand through his hair. “It’s going to cause quite a stir.”
Lars grinned and offered James a drink.
“Guest?” Robert reached for the last glass on the table. “Should I be sorry I missed dinner?”
Lars chuckled and tilted back his glass. “How did you come to be in the company of a pretty southern woman, General Steele?” Lars refilled his glass. “As my wife so delicately pointed out at dinner, weren’t you sent to whip those dirty rebels into submission?”
James narrowed his eyes. “Your wife needs to bite her tongue.” He recalled how pale Tamsyn appeared throughout the uncomfortable ordeal with his family.
“So how did you meet her?” Robert nudged James.
He let out a sigh. “Her husband was a spy. We caught her trying to get a letter to the rebels after he died.”
“So she is a spy?” Charles Steele asked.
“No.” James shook his head. “She was only trying to carry out a request made by a dying man.”
“Why is she with you?” Robert pulled out one of his father’s cigars from a box on the mantel.
“General Grant made me responsible for her until the war is over.” James turned up his own drink.
“What are your intentions with this young woman?” Mr. Steele puffed on his pipe.
Silence rolled through the room. James set the glass back on the counter and motioned for Lars to refill it. “I find myself caring deeply for her, Father. I just don’t know beyond that.”
Chapter Twelve
Tamsyn looked around the room and frowned. It wasn’t much bigger than a closet. Her chest tightened and she took a deep breath. There wasn’t even a window. The single sized bed took up most of the room. But it was warm and the coverlet appeared comfortable.
Holding the edge of the bed, she pulled off her shoes. Her toes relaxed, released from the confines of the too-tight footwear. She closed her eyes and groaned with pleasure, grateful to be out of the damned things. Dropping down onto the bed, she searched the room for her trunk.
I’ll be damned if I’m sleeping in these knickers.
Recalling that James had sent all the trunks to his room, Tamsyn stood and hurried out of the room. Her bare feet were quiet going down the darkened hall toward his room. Slipping inside his room, she shut the door behind her.
Once inside, Tamsyn closed her eyes and inhaled. James’s masculine scent blanketed the room even after years of his absence. The familiarity calmed her in the strange place. A low burning fire popped and her eyes took a moment to adjust to the dim light in the room.
Her eyes found the outline of a large bed first. It dominated the space in the room. She took a step forward, reaching out to touch heavy wooden footboard. Sanded and polished smooth, the wood appeared black in the darkened room.
She swallowed, a slow burn tingled her sex and she clenched her thighs.
Desire. Passion.
It had been so long since she’d felt those things, she’d thought herself void of those emotions. A thick coverlet caught her attention. The deep burgundy color sparked with a flash of flame and she smiled.
He likes red.
He’d tried to purchase a second burgundy gown for her in Philadelphia. She touched her waist. She’d compromised by allowing the seamstress to thread her cream colored knickers with red ribbon. She shook her head.
Knickers. The man is obsessed with women’s knickers.
Behind her, next to the door, she found a sturdy desk against the wall. Across the back of the desk a row of books sat in a neat, untouched line. She padded across the floor toward the desk. Her hand trailed along the spine of each book, reading the titles.
Most were military strategy, military history, military this or that, but the one on the end looked different. She pulled it off the shelf with care.
Children’s fairy tales.
Her heart ached for Elizabeth. She knew Davis would take care of her and she would be well received when they arrived in Tennessee. But Tamsyn’s days were lonely without Elizabeth.
She thumbed through the book. Fairy tales she didn’t recognize filled the pages. An inscription in ink caught her attention.
With hopes it will be well used in the future. -F
She slid the book back onto the shelf. The golden book was a stark contrast with the dark hues of the others.
Who is F?
A leather-bound journal lay on top of the desk and she ran her hand over the smooth top, surprised he kept a journal. Her brother scoffed at the idea of keeping one and teased her without mercy whenever he came across hers when they were younger.
“Tempted by my innermost thoughts?”
She sucked in a breath. “Dammit, don’t startle me, James.”
He leaned against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest, watching her. A half smile played on his lips.
Lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t heard him slip up the stairs and open the door. “I didn’t read it.”
“Mmm-hmm.” He straightened and stepped into the room, closing the door.
“The trunks were here. I came to fetch my nightgown.”
He moved toward her. Graceful and agile. Years of battle had hardened him and taught him to move quietly. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. In fact, it seemed dangerous to look away. Her blood sizzled through her veins and she shivered.
“Are you cold?”
She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. She snapped it shut. He took another step toward her and she instinctively took a step back. Her heart pounded in her ears and the fire crackled in laughter behind her.
He stepped forward and again, she stepped back. He took his jacket off and laid it across the large chair at the foot of the bed. “You need help with your laces.”
She nodded. The woman at the dress shop had helped her into the dress.
He crooked his finger at her. Compelled to obey the dark general who towered over her in the dim room, she took the first step. A small step.
He crooked his finger again and her sex pulsed. She felt pulled into him. He reached out and tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear. “Do I make you nervous?”
Her eyes closed with his gentle touch. With his finger tip he traced the edge of her ear and down her neck.
“No.”
“Turn around.”
His hands started at the top. He loosened the laces with expert skill. With each tug, cool air swept over more and more of her skin.
“Your skin is like cream.” He pressed a kiss against the base of her neck.
Her skin prickled and she fought another shudder.
James rummaged through the trunk near his bed and came up with the soft cotton night gown she’d brought along. “I wished you’d let me buy you another.”
She smiled. It was faded and softened by years of use. It was the only thing that had fit in the last few weeks of her pregnancy with Elizabeth. Tamsyn couldn’t imagine sleeping in anything else.
Elizabeth.
Biting the inside of her cheek, she reached for it. “No. This one is fine. Thank you.”
“What’s wrong, love?” he asked softly.
Tears spilled down her face, and she choked back a sob. “I—”
James pulled her against his chest. His arms encircled her. The fabric of his shirt served well so soak up her tears.
“I shouldn’t have come here. I-I don’t belong here.” Her body shook against him and he rubbed her back. “Elizabeth needs me. I—”
“I’m sorry.” He kissed her temple. His fingertips brushed her back in a slow circle.
Keeping her eyes closed, Tamsyn rose onto her toes and kissed him. She reached for the button at the top of his white dress shirt, now soaked with her tears.
He dropped his hands to his sides and rested his forehead against hers.
“Tamsyn, I don’t think—”
“You said I wasn’t a camp follower to be bedded on the riverbank. Here we are, without a riverbank.” Tamsyn was shocked by her own bravery. With her sadness at bay, her body sparked and caught fire in his presence. She wanted his hands, his lips. She wanted him. “You said if I needed anything—”
His breathing deepened while she worked the buttons loose.
“Please, I don’t want to be alone,” she admitted.
With the last button undone, his shirt fell open. His heat enveloped her body through her clothes. Her gaze worked its way down from his wide shoulders to his chest and lean abs. A thin line of hair trailed down his stomach and disappeared in his breeches.
James pushed the dress off her shoulders.
Her nipples peaked with arousal and exposure.
He brought his hands around her waist and pushed the dress over her hips. Standing against him, wearing nothing but a pair of knickers, she recalled his devilish grin at the dress shop when he’d pressed them into her hands.
“I told you that you’d look nice in nothing but a pair of knickers,” he whispered. His hands caressed her backside through the thin material. His fingers moved closer to her core.
Her toes lifted her and she arched her back, granting his hand access. She whimpered when he stopped short. Her body knew what it wanted, and it didn’t bother to consult with her mind.
James stepped back and his eyes drifted over her. He took her hands and pressed his lips to the backs of each of them. He tugged her toward the bed.
Her body followed willingly, craving his touch.
James shrugged out of his shirt. She ran her hand across his chest. Muscles rippled lean and hard under her palms. She tilted her head back, and he dipped his head, capturing her lips with his own. His hands tugged at the red ribbon holding up her knickers. They fell at her feet.
He broke the kiss and lifted her onto the bed. He removed his breeches and modesty rushed over her. She looked away.
“
Men like for you to touch it with your hands too
.” Lavinia’s instruction rolled through her memory.
She reached forward. And stopped just before her fingers reached it and looked up at him.
“It’s okay.”
She ran her fingers up the length of him. Shock rode through her body. Her fingers wrapped around him and a groan escaped his lips. She stroked him.
James cupped her breast in his hand.
“Oh!” She gasped when he plucked a hardened nipple and rolled it between his fingers. The pain vanished, followed by unexpected pleasure that rocked her hips forward.
She tilted her head to look up at him.
His eyebrow lifted and he urged her back onto the bed. “Shh, love.” His fingers made tight circles around her nipple. He leaned forward and took the other between his lips. His tongue danced with the hard pebble and his breath warmed her breast. When his teeth grazed across her nipple her back arched and her moan echoed in the room. She buried her fingers into his hair, glad he’d chosen not to cut it just yet.
He left her breast and trailed his tongue down her stomach. He lifted her legs, still in stockings, onto his shoulders and his thumb brushed between her legs. Tingles shot through her body.
She groaned. He eased his finger inside while her body pulsed with the sensation. Her breathing slowed and he slid his finger back out.
“Shh,” he whispered.
“Please do that again,” she begged.
Her body shifted.
Oh, please do it again. Over, and over, and over.
This time he pressed a second finger inside along with the first. She couldn’t muffle the loud moan that escaped. He stood, the tip of his cock touched her opening. James’s hands wrapped around her hips. He slid into her.
Her heart raced.
“Harder.” Her request gave him only a momentary pause before he thrust inside her. Her back arched and she met his pressure. His hands on her hips to hold her in place, he repeated his action, each time with just a touch more force.
His finger caressed over the nerve-filled nub slickened with her moisture.
Heat built. His finger massaged her while he pumped inside of her. The orgasm exploded from the center of her body outward. “Oh! James!”
He crushed his lips against hers and she groaned into his mouth. Her nails slid down his back and his thrusts quickened. He shuddered over her. His movement slowing before he collapsed on top of her.
She gulped in air, her senses slowly returning. “Wow.”
His body shook with a soft laugh and he kissed to the curve of her neck before he moved off of her. With their bodies separated, a wave of uncertainty washed over her.
With Ben, it had been easy. He’d never removed her nightgown and once he’d found his release, he’d rolled onto his side and fallen asleep. Her hands moved to cover herself.
James pulled the coverlet back and beckoned her to join him beneath it. “Stay with me tonight, love.”
“I need the nightdress.”
His hand circled her wrist. “No, you don’t.” He pulled her back to the bed. He kissed her shoulder before urging her under the quilt. “You’ll stay warm enough without it.”
She moved across the bed and pulled the coverlet around her. He tugged until her back tucked against his chest. Her backside pressed against his thighs and he draped his arm around her waist. Her head fit against his shoulder.
“Tell me about Elizabeth when she was little,” he said.
Tamsyn relaxed against him and smiled. “She’s always hated green beans.”
James let her talk until exhaustion lulled her to sleep and he lay, propped on his elbow, watching her. He’d asked every question he could think of about her daughter and then committed each detail to memory. He wanted to know more.
His gaze traced the outline of her nose and across her lips. Lips he wanted to hear say his name, over and over again. For the rest of his life.
I’m falling in love with this woman. This spy. This…rebel.