flesh would be slick and clean, and she wanted to know how the warmth
would feel beneath her tongue.
The way he lay against her, she felt the thunder of his heart, and her
own, and the beats seemed to rise together, and fall away, and rise
together again, quick, wild, rampant. She felt his breath against her
cheeks, and the iron lock of his thigh upon her own. She wanted to reach
out and run her fingers through the sandy tendrils of hair that fell so
hauntingly over his forehead, and so often shadowed and shaded his eyes,
and hid his innermost thoughts.
'Yes? You do understand?'
'Yes!' she cried out.
'And it all makes sense to you? You'll do what I'm asking you to do?'
'Yes. We'll go into town. As soon as I've stopped by the paper'
'Before.'
'What difference does it make?'
'Maybe none. But the sooner von Heusen hears about this, the better
things are going to be.'
'Fine!' She was nearly screaming again. She was close to tears because
she was desperate to escape him and the sensual blanketing of his body
upon hers.
'Please, let me up!'
He rolled to his side, and she was free.
'You do sound more like him every day, though,' she muttered heedlessly,
lpache Summer 145 rolling from him to rise and dust the hay from her
gown.
'Carpetbagging Yanks, all of' -- 'That's another thing we're going to
get straight here once and for all!' he stated. Before she could flee as
she had intended, his arm snaked around her, and she was tumbling into
the hay again. He straddled her, and his hands pinned her down.
'I'm not a Yank. I'm all.S. Cavalry of- ricer now, Miss. Stuart, but I
was born and bred in Missouri and I fought with Morgan for many long
years in the war. As a Reb, Tess. Got that straight? Don't you ever go
calling me a carpetbagging Yank again, and so help me God, I mean that!
Understand?'
She stared at him blankly. She had called him a Yank a dozen times, and
only now was he telling her the truth.
'Tess!'
'Yes!' she cried. She tore at her wrists and freed them from his grasp,
then shoved him as hard as she could. He didn't move.
'Either Jon or I should know where you are at all times.
All right?'
'No hiding in barns or carriage houses.'
'I wasn't hiding! I was trying to make sure the fire was really out.'
'I wouldn't have walked out of here without making sure the fire was
out.'
'Maybe I needed to see for myself. The printing press is in here.'
'That damned press! It's everything to you.'
'Yes! The paper does mean everything! It's the only means I have to tell
the truth!'
He was silent for a moment. Then he moved slowly to his feet and reached
