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Authors: Connie Mason

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BOOK: Surrender to the Fury
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Aimee stared at herself in the mirror, seeing a strange woman who bore her little resemblance. The woman who stared back at her had pouty lips painted a ripe red, and cheeks artfully rouged. Her eyes were outlined in black, the lids highlighted with subtle color that gave them a sensual glow. She wore a sheer peignoir that floated about her body but concealed little. A hip-length chemise beneath revealed long, shapely legs, nearly all of her breasts, and the tiny span of her waist.

Though Miss Mona had stuffed Aimee with rich food for an entire week, it had accomplished little except for filling out the hollows beneath her cheekbones and collarbone. Her body was still painfully thin but nevertheless all woman, with curves and indentation in all the right places. A pair of high-heeled slippers completed Aimee’s costume.

Aimee’s greatest fear was that she wouldn’t be able to do what was expected of her tonight.

The nearer the time came to walking down those stairs and mingling with Mona’s girls, the more panicky she became. She had tried to separate herself from everything that would take place tonight, but nothing short of death would make her forget that the moment she let the first man bed her, she would become a whore.

Think of Brand, she told herself sternly. Think of the two lives she was saving, not about her silly pride or honor. What possible good would her honor do her when those she loved were dead? A soft knock on the door jerked Aimee from her mournful thoughts. The door opened and Mona entered without waiting to be invited.

“You look marvelous, honey,” Mona gushed delightedly. “But then, I knew you would. Still a mite thin, but I’m sure my customers will be as pleased with you as I am. You’re not nervous, are you?”

“I—yes, of course I am. This doesn’t come easily to me.”

“It will get easier with time,” Mona said, her tone brusque and businesslike. “You know the rules, don’t you? You let me do the negotiating. After the details are worked out and a price agreed upon, you are free to take the client upstairs. I keep careful accounting of the earnings of all my girls. Rest assured you won’t be cheated. I don’t allow any rough stuff here, either. If a man gets rowdy or tries to hurt you, you have only to call out and one of the bouncers will come to your aid.”

“I trust you, Miss Mona; that’s not what’s bothering me. I just don’t know if I can go through with it.”

“I’m not holding you here, honey,” Mona reminded her. “If you had any other means of feeding your child, I’d let you go now, even if you do owe me money. I’d trust you to pay it back.”

“You took me in and gave me food to take to Tall Oaks; I’ll not let you down. Besides, we both know there is no other work available to me in Atlanta.
A bargain is a bargain; I’ll live up to my part of it.”

“I knew you’d feel that way. What you’re doing here has nothing to do with honor, it’s survival. You aren’t the only woman driven to prostitution by starvation and circumstances beyond her control. Thank God you had the good sense to come to me, for I take care of my girls. Now then, honey, the other girls are already assembling downstairs. Men have already begun to arrive. Come down whenever you’re ready.”

Aimee remained in her room a few moments longer. She felt like vomiting but managed with difficulty to swallow the bitter taste of bile that rose in her throat. Her knees were weak and her head hurt. Yet Aimee knew she could not linger. With shaking hands she opened the door and stepped out on the landing overlooking the crowded parlor below.

A sea of blue uniforms intermingled with scantily clad girls offering drinks on trays. Some men openly ogled the girls; others were much bolder, squeezing and stroking private parts of their anatomy. None of the girls being openly caressed seemed to mind. Aimee watched as one of the men seized a girl by the hand and led her over to Mona, where a friendly bargaining commenced. Once the man explained what he wanted, a price was agreed upon and Mona wrote it in a book. Payment was tendered, and the girl led the man up the stairs. Taking in a deep, steadying breath, Aimee waited for the giggling couple to enter a room, then started down the stairs.

Nick rang the bell at Miss Mona’s house of pleasure with great impatience. His stark, intense face
effectively conveyed the anguish he was suffering. He still found it difficult to believe he’d find Aimee in a whorehouse, but desperation drove people to do things they might never consider in less difficult times. According to Savannah, Aimee had been at Miss Mona’s an entire week. He shuddered, thinking of what Aimee had been forced to endure before he arrived in Atlanta.

The door opened, and declining to hand over his hat and coat to the maid, Nick strode into the parlor. It was already crowded with soldiers and a few civilians attached to the government. Nick recognized one or two of the officers present, but most of the men were strangers, which suited him just fine. The fewer acquaintances who knew his future wife was a—good Lord, he couldn’t call Aimee a whore!

Then he saw her, poised at the top of the stairs looking frightened and lost. Her face was heavily painted, and she was dressed—or undressed, as was the case—most provocatively. He stopped just inside the door, staring at her, noting that her thinness served only to enhance her fragile beauty.

Aimee failed to notice Nick in the crush of blue uniforms. She looked at no one in particular, keeping her eyes trained on a point above everyone’s heads. Nick watched her descend the stairs, saw the stir she created among those men present who had the good fortune to notice her, and his eyes glazed over with the fury of his knowledge that other men wanted to bed her. Suddenly staunch willpower was no longer enough to keep him from doing what his conscience demanded he do from the moment Savannah had told him where Aimee could be found.

Aimee had reached the bottom of the stairs now, pausing to gather her courage before taking that last step. Once she joined the other girls in the parlor, she had no control over what must necessarily follow. She was wild with panic, her gaze sweeping the room. Then she saw him; he was pushing rudely through the throng of men and scantily clad women to reach her. His face was stark with fury. His fists were clenched at his sides, and his eyes were so dark a shade of green, they were nearly black. Truly devil’s eyes. Aimee felt a shaft of raw, naked fear shudder through her.

Nick stopped scant inches from her, staring at her with his astonishingly level gaze for the space of a heartbeat. “Playtime is over, sweetheart; you’re leaving with me.”

Aimee’s eyes widened; her jaw worked noiselessly, but no words came out. With an efficiency of effort, Nick pulled off his overcoat, placed it around Aimee’s shoulders, swept her off her feet, and threw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “You’re mine, Aimee Trevor; I’ll be damned if I’ll let another man have you.”

“What’s going on here, Major?” Mona appeared at Nick’s elbow, flanked by two burly bouncers. “If you’ve made your choice, you must make arrangements with me first.”

“The hell with arrangements,” Nick said tightly. “Aimee belongs to me; I’m taking her with me. Any fool can see she doesn’t belong here.”

“Aimee is here of her own free will,” Mona said in an effort to disarm the potentially volatile situation. “I hold no girl by force.”

“Let me go, Nick Drummond!” Aimee
screeched, pounding at Nick’s back. “I belong to no man.”

“You heard her, let her go, Major.” The two bouncers took a menacing step forward.

“Look here,” Nick said with exaggerated patience, “Aimee and I need to talk privately. I’ll gladly pay for her time.”

Mona’s eyes sparkled in understanding. Since Aimee seemed to know the major, and the major sure as hell knew Aimee, she saw no harm in letting Nick have his way—up to a certain point. “If you want to ‘talk,’ you have to do it in my house. I take care of my girls, and I don’t let them leave unless I know for sure they want to go. Providing you pay for her time and promise not to hurt her, I see no reason to deny your request.”

“I don’t know the going rate for the entire night, but this ought to cover it,” Nick said disgustedly as he dug in his pocket with his free hand. He removed several bills and tossed them at Mona. She caught them deftly, then motioned for the bouncers to let Nick pass.

“Third door on the left. And remember, no rough stuff.”

“I don’t want to go with him,” Aimee said in a muffled voice as she continued to struggle. What right did Nick have coming in here like this and making a fool of her? No doubt he was already married to Regina Blakewell and came to Miss Mona’s to escape her cloying possessiveness.

“Shut up,” Nick said as he sprinted up the stairs before Mona could change her mind.

Mona watched them thoughtfully. She didn’t know everything, but she did know men. Nick Drummond was a determined man who knew
what he wanted. He had emerged from somewhere out of Aimee Trevor’s past to claim the woman he considered his. No doubt remained in Mona’s mind that Aimee’s career in her house had ended before it ever really began. Mona wondered if the impetuous major knew this was to be Aimee’s first night of entertaining clients. She wished she could witness the fireworks that were bound to result when those two temperaments clashed, but she’d put her money on the major coming off the winner.

Nick slammed the door to Aimee’s room with his foot, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the ostentatious furnishings and gaudy wallpaper. He threw her roughly onto the soft surface of the bed, returned to lock the door, then came back to stand over her. His face was like a thundercloud, dark and menacing.

“Where in hell were your brains, coming to work in a whorehouse? Do you enjoy having several men a night? Wipe your face; you look like a whore.”

“Don’t judge me, you bastard! You have no idea what brought me here or why I did what I did.”

“I have some idea,” Nick said, his expression softening. “But it doesn’t make it any easier for me to swallow. Why didn’t you get in touch with me? You could have asked the commanding officer to send word to me. Or written.”

“If you’re talking about Major Tanner, forget it. I did go to him, but he refused to help me.”

“Did you ask him specifically to contact me? Did you tell him my son was sick and starving? I’ll wager you never even mentioned my name.”

“Your son! I never told you Brand was your son.”

“No, but you’re going to tell me now. I’ve been extremely patient with you, Aimee, but the time has come to tell the truth.” He glared down at her with a look that told her there was no sense in pretending any longer.

“Yes, dammit, Brand is your son! Are you happy now?”

Nick smiled. “Exceedingly happy.”

“What are you going to do about it? Don’t think that you and Regina are going to raise my son, for you can’t have him.”

“What’s Regina got to do with anything?”

“She’s your finacée. Or are you already married? She was quite determined to have you.”

“I am not going to marry Regina Blakewell. And I
will
have my son.”

Aimee inhaled sharply. It was just as she feared. Nick would take her son from her, and she’d never see him again. “You can’t have Brand, Nick. Please, can’t you see that it would kill me if you took him away from me?”

“We’ll talk about Brand later. First tell me what made you seek work in a—a—”

“Whorehouse,” Aimee finished since he seemed to have such difficulty with the word. “I did what was necessary to save Brand and Savannah. Brand was ill. They both needed food and medicine. I made a bargain with Mona, and I intend to live up to my end of it.”

“By sleeping with men?”

A dull red crept up Aimee’s neck. “We do what we have to do for our loved ones.”

“My God, Aimee, I wanted to throttle you when
I heard what you did! I’m still not sure you’re safe from me, which is why I haven’t touched you since coming into this room. I told you I’d come back to Atlanta. You know how much I care for you.”

“You didn’t care enough about me to tell me you were engaged,” she accused hotly.

“Truthfully, I never gave it a thought. Once I found you again, Regina no longer held any interest for me. I intended to break the engagement at the earliest opportunity, but one can’t always do what one wants in times of war.”

He dropped down on the bed beside her, suddenly weary of argument. He didn’t care what she had done, or with whom. He’d never bring up the past to her; it was their future that mattered. How many men could she have had in a week, anyway? Even one was too many, a little voice whispered. But he quickly put the thought out of his mind.

“What makes you think I’d ever care for a blue-belly?” Aimee bit out. “Your kind has devastated the South, subjugated our people, raped, destroyed, and pillaged at will. I hate you, and I hate all you stand for. Why couldn’t you leave us in peace?”

Nick’s eyes turned brilliant green. “You don’t hate me, sweetheart. We have a child together, remember?”

“How could I forget? For years I lived in fear that someday, somehow, you’d learn about Brand and take him from me. It was a preposterous idea given the fact that you apparently didn’t care what happened to me after you collected the debt of honor I owed you. Yet it happened. We did meet
again, under less than favorable circumstances, I might add, and you do intend to take Brand from me. How do you explain that?”

“Fate, sweetheart. It was meant to be. Just as our loving one another was preordained. I won’t take your son from you. You, Brand, and Savannah are coming with me to Washington.”

Aimee struggled upright on the bed. “What! Absolutely not. I’ll never set foot in that Yankee stronghold. As for loving one another, why don’t you admit it’s lust you feel for me? You’re asking me to go to Washington with you only because you want your son, not because you have tender feelings for me.”

“You’re wrong, sweetheart. Yes, I want Brand, but not without you. I admit I lust for you, but it goes deeper than that. If you’re afraid I’ll think less of you for—for coming to this place, rest assured I’ll never bring it up again. I don’t like it, but I accept that you acted out of desperation and need.”

“How gallant of you,” Aimee said bitterly. “But quite unnecessary. I’ve bedded no one since you left Tall Oaks with Regina.”

BOOK: Surrender to the Fury
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