Elijah hadn't meant to kiss Kate, but after he’d taken that step toward her and closed the space between them, he’d wondered how he could possibly have done anything else. Everything within him shifted hard and fast in her direction as soon as their lips touched, like a horse pulling against the reins with all its might. His chest had pulled tight and every part of him had wanted to know her. Carnally, yes, but in every other way, too. He’d seen the hurt in her eyes, the deep pain that was just as much a part of her as her barbed words. He hadn’t pitied her—Kate wasn’t the kind of woman who would sit well with that—but he’d been moved all the same.
That the sweetness of their kiss had been chased by bitter sorrow had only galvanized the need for her, the hope for more than any man could rightly expect. Life could end quickly, brutally, and with no warning, but sometimes it could offer you something that gave all the difficulties new meaning.
Kate. Katie. Infuriating and alluring, somber and solid and seemingly made for him. There was no room for a woman like her in his future, but Elijah wanted her all the same.
After the chaos had died down, when he’d seen her clutching Lettie’s daughter like a woman lost in an all-encompassing fog, he’d known he couldn’t leave her. Something in the woman had laid him low, and although she didn’t need his help, he wanted to provide it all the same.
Thus, only one of the prisoners had accepted Bellamy’s offer and defected to the British’s Colored encampment: Elijah himself. Bellamy had been impressed with his handling of the panicked horse and offered him a position caring for the officers’ steeds on the condition that he renounce his ties with the Colonists. It took every ounce of Elijah’s strength to endure the hatred of his compatriots in the aftermath of such a treacherous decision.
He’d hoped the British would accept his sham turncoating without question, but it galled that his fellow Patriots so easily fell for his ruse. However, being free to wander the camp had an additional benefit, apart from proximity to Kate: it meant he could cobble together an escape plan for the men. Elijah endured their recriminations—the angry words only made him work faster. A few had already been transported to the prison ships, but Elijah had finally put everything in place to free the others. He could only hope that by doing so, he would regain their trust.
And what about Kate? Can you truly leave her behind?
Elijah felt the warm, humid breath of his latest charge on his neck as he walked forward, paused, and took two steps to the side. He didn’t have to look behind him to know that the great nutmeg-colored beast mimicked his footsteps. He'd worked with her for the better part of a week, and he was damned good at what he did. She was already capable of more, much more, but this simple demonstration was for entertainment. A distraction.
Charlotte clapped with delight in Kate’s arms, her loss temporarily forgotten. The girl missed her mother, but she was young enough that equine tricks could bring her joy. He wished it was as easy to make Kate smile.
He walked the horse over to Kate and had it bend down on one knee in front of her in an elaborate bow.
“My lady,” he said, reverently. “Nutmeg holds you in her highest regard.”
The soldiers clapped and laughed, but Kate was looking at the happy little girl in her arms, a frown pulling at her lips.
“Okay, show's over, mates,” Elijah said, leading the horse to its pen. The lobsterbacks groaned in disappointment, the same as Master Sutton’s children had back on the farm. He glanced at Kate. “I'll walk you back to your tent.”
She nodded, a far-away look in her eyes. As soon as he was beside her, she passed Charlotte over and then crossed her arms over her chest.
Charlotte settled against him, babbling as she drifted off into a nap.
“It must be difficult, this sudden responsibility of a child,” Elijah said. “I'm sure one of the families in the camp would be willing to take her, if that’s what’s best for you.”
“Do you think I’d purposely abandon this child?” Kate’s temper flared, and for a second he had a glimpse of the woman he’d first met. She gave Charlotte’s chubby hand a quick squeeze, and then pulled away.
Elijah sighed, not sure he should press the issue. He’d spent most of his free time over the past week with Kate, but that didn’t mean she would welcome his meddling. “It’s just…I’m worried about you. Sometimes it seems as if you can’t stand to touch her.”
“Sometimes I can't,” she said simply. “Sometimes, she reminds me of something I'd very much like to forget.”
The sadness in her voice was enough to undo him. “Is that the same reason why you push me away, too?”
She went rigid beside him, but didn’t answer.
“You can talk to me, if you'd like. You’ve certainly listened to me ramble on over the past week.”
She shook her head.
”Kate—”
“I said I want to forget. It's not some mystery you need to solve, Sutton. It's just the story of a headstrong girl who thought love was enough to perform miracles and learned that it wasn’t.” Her breath hitched and her next words were stilted. “Please don't ask me again.”
“I won't.”
He reached out and took her hand. He hadn't agreed not to comfort her. He thought she might pull away, but she didn't. After a moment, she sighed and gripped his hand harder, and it was almost as good as their kiss.
They walked on in silence. He realized what they must look like, he and Kate and Charlotte: like a family.
“Maybe you’ll feel better after a bite to eat?” He laid Charlotte down in Kate’s tent, and then stepped back out. His tent was a distance from hers, on the furthest end of the encampment—the perfect place to strike out at night and survey escape routes. He didn’t know if the route he had chosen was the best, or if the sympathetic boatman he had spoken to could be trusted, but the plan was in place. Now he only needed to act. But first…
“Would you like to share supper?” He tried to mask the urgency in his tone, and knew he failed. He couldn’t leave without letting her know how he felt—without asking her to come with him when the plan was finally put into action.
“I think I’d better not,” she said, sliding past him and into her tent. “Good evening to you, Elijah.”
He stood and stared at the flap, stinging at the sound rejection. He’d felt the ardor in her kisses, the way she pulled him closer as if she couldn’t get enough of him. And although she’d been reserved in the wake of Lettie’s accident, he’d still caught her looking at him with something more than friendship. He had to go to her, had to convince her to join him.
Elijah took a step toward the tent and then shook his head, disgusted with himself and his entitled frustration. Kate wasn’t a horse that he could bend to his will, even if he did it through kindness and not violence. She was beautiful and strong, and she’d likely been made to pay for that. He was surely just another man in a long line of them who’d wanted her for their own.
You’re…different.
He remembered her words from that first night of his capture, and regretted that he hadn’t lived up to them in that moment. Soon, it would be too late to make his amends.
Elijah returned to his tent and flopped onto his sleep roll. After quickly eating some hardtack, he closed his eyes for what felt like seconds but awoke to a stillness that told him hours had passed. It wasn’t quiet by any means: crickets chirped loudly, trees susurrated in the wind, and, if he listened very carefully, waves clapped against the distant riverbank. It was time to move.
Elijah crept out of his tent. He wanted to examine the route that led to freedom for him and the remaining prisoners one last time. When the time came, he’d have to act at a moment’s notice, and he couldn’t lead them astray.
He walked quietly through the trees, hoping the shadows of the night masked his bulky frame. For all that he was large, he moved lightly, but after a few moments he realized he was being followed. Sweat broke out on his brow as his mind raced for some way to evade discovery.
He heard the babbling of a brook and quickly turned toward it. The footsteps followed him, but no one demanded that he come to a halt so he continued. When he reached the brook, he stopped and casually pulled off his shirt. He slid off his boots and began struggling out of his tight breeches. He thought the soldier following him would move on when he saw that Elijah was bathing, but when he dropped his pants to the ground he heard a sharp gasp behind him.
He turned, and some part of his mind knew who it was before his eyes made out her form in the darkness.
“Kate? What are you doing here?” he asked, stepping toward her. A cool breeze reminded him that he was completely nude.
Her eyes were wide in the moonlight. She was silent, although he could hear the faint sound of air passing through her lips as she tried to form words. He should have been cold in the night air, but his body warmed as he took another step toward her. His member thickened against his leg, and he stopped in his tracks.
“Why are you here?” he asked, lowering his hands to shield himself. Her presence wasn’t helping, as that which he endeavored to hide grew larger precisely because she was so near. “It’s not safe, Kate. What do you think happens to women who stumble upon naked men in the dark woods with no one to interrupt them?”
He didn’t mean for the words to sound like a threat, but he was still surprised when they were met by her deep laugh.
“I haven’t stumbled upon just any man. You’re Elijah Sutton and you wouldn’t hurt me,” she said. He was heartened by the surety of her tone. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her, ever. But, in that moment, what he wanted was nothing so gentle as she was used to from him.
“No, I wouldn’t. But my thoughts aren’t as pure as you might imagine right now.”
He expected the words to drive her away, but she began to close the distance between them instead.
“I thought you were running off,” she said. “Without saying farewell to me.”
Her voice trembled, and now she was near enough he could see the determined expression on her face.
“How did you know I’d left my tent?” he asked. The look in her eye gave him some idea of her answer, and when she reached out and ran her hands over the broad expanse of his chest, he knew he was right.
“I went to your tent because I wanted you to love me,” she said. “I know you mean to escape or die trying, no matter what you told Bellamy. Elijah, you’re the only man…”
She looked away then, as if she couldn’t meet his eye. Elijah wanted to hold her, wanted to stroke her and tell her it was okay, but there was a time for comfort and there was a time for listening. This was the latter.
“I’ve been touched by many men, but you’re the only one I’ve longed for,” she whispered in her lyrical voice. “All of the others took and took. One of the women on the plantation finally taught me how to fight back, and then I was too much trouble to bother with. I got a husband, eventually, but he was so much older, and I never felt this way about him.
“I never felt real pleasure, good pleasure, until you drank from my ladle. Just your hand touching mine made me dizzy, even though I’ve been caressed all over. When you kissed me… Elijah, I didn’t know I could feel like that. And I don’t know if I ever will again. I want you to make love to me now.”
Elijah’s heartbeat resounded in his ears in the silence after her words. The woman he wanted was entrusting him with something more intimate than even her love—her desire. Women gave their hearts away to unworthy men as a matter of course, but confiding the bare truth of one’s needs was rare for either sex.
He grabbed the fabric of her cloak and pulled her against his body. He knew she could feel the length of him through her clothing—he’d never been harder in all his life. To ask her if she was sure of her wants would be belittling, so he kissed her instead. His lips trailed across her brow, dragged against the sensitive shell of her ear and lingered there when she shuddered into him. She liked that. Her arms wrapped around him, and the swell of her breasts pushed into his chest, her pebbled nipples scraping pleasurably across his skin.
His hands slid up her back and over her shoulders, mapping her body before cupping her jaw to angle her mouth toward his. This wasn’t like the first kiss, gentle and exploratory. His tongue dove into her mouth, assured of its reception, and she met him with the same ferocity. Their bodies swayed and glided, searching for sparks of pleasurable friction. Her mound rubbed over his rigid length, and he groaned into her mouth.
Christ, she feels like heaven, Elijah thought. Every part of him longed for her. The lust that welled up within him was encased in the finest membrane of love, an adoration that hadn’t yet hardened to its full strength but would soon be unbreakable.
You must leave this place. And perhaps Kate as well.
The thought of separating from her sent a surge of desperation through him. He needed to touch her, to taste her. He pulled off her cloak and fumbled at her dress, but she moved away from him, efficiently freeing herself and stepping out of the frock.
He stared at her, drank in the beauty of her dark, willowy form before pulling her to him again. He touched her everywhere, hands sliding over her smallish breasts, tucking in at her waist and following the flare of her hips that tapered down to her thighs. He dropped to his knees, resting his face against her firm belly, taking in the smell of soap and Kate’s own musky desire. From this close, he could see the striations on her skin where her belly had once stretched with child. He ran his fingertips over the marks, kissing them softly as understanding set in. She’d had a child somewhere along the line, and now she didn’t.
His heart ached for her.
“Elijah, please,” she groaned. He pulled her down to her knees, too, his mouth searching for hers as he reached behind him to pull his coat beneath them. Their lips were fused when he sat back and she followed, straddling him. The ground was hard, but he ignored the rocky terrain and focused on the soft, sleek woman atop him.
His tongue circled first one nipple, then the other, lips closing around each in turn as she shook with pleasure. He rocked his hips up and his member nudged at her folds. She was damp with desire, and it would have been a simple thing to slide into her warmth. Elijah waited, though. He knew that this was something she must take for herself. He didn’t have to wait long. Kate reached down and wrapped her hand around his thick length, hand sliding teasingly up and down his shaft as she slowly took him inside of her. Her other arm went around his neck, fastening her to him as if she were afraid she’d fall.
“Yes,” he hissed. “Yes, my dear Katie.”
She didn’t respond, but her mouth brushed against his forehead and then his cheekbone, brief touches that drove him nearly as mad as the warmth enveloping his cock.
Kate was all tight deliciousness pulsing around his organ. She teased him as she adjusted to his girth, taking him inch by slow inch. Finally, finally, he was in her to the hilt, sensation racing down his spine and up his cock as he pulsed into her. His hands went to her hips to support her as he searched for the rhythm that would give her the most pleasure. She threw her head back and gasped, her hips moving in fierce circles to meet his thrusts. She braced herself against his chest, her nails leaving crescents of pleasurable pain as she moved on his cock. Her hands slid up to his shoulders, and her gaze met his.
“Elijah, I never knew,” she gasped. “I never knew it could be this good.”
Elijah had been maintaining a modicum of control, but that slipped away at her words. Pleasure was blossoming in his body, with something else following on its trail, something that made his chest feel full and warm and overflowing. He began to pump into her fast and hard, driving her toward the sweet completion that was nearly upon him. His grip on her hip tightened, and his tongue lashed at her sensitive breasts as he drove into her.
She broke with a wail, back arching and core clamping tightly around his shaft. Elijah grunted and his climax took him, pulling him down into a vortex of immense pleasure that scoured him from head to toe.
There was the sound of their breathing then, mixing with the scrape of leaves in the wind. She pulled herself up off of him and walked behind him, and he heard the splashing of her cleaning herself in the brook. He gave her a moment of privacy, mostly because he wasn’t sure he could speak yet.
“I find myself in quite a quandary,” he said as she passed by him to retrieve her dress. His hand darted out to encircle one of her slim ankles. She paused, the moon glinting off of her skin making her look like a dark goddess, unattainable to mortal man. God, he hoped that wasn’t so.
“What’s that?” she asked in a voice that was softer than her usual strident tone.
“I am determined to leave here, but I’m also determined to have you by my side. The boatman who lives near the Dixon farm has agreed to ferry me and the prisoners I free to Manhattan. There, we can make our way to General Washington. You can come with us. With me.”
His heart was brimming with hope after their encounter, but her silence was draining it in quick measure.
“Perhaps if it were just me, but I have Charlotte to think of now,” she said in a hollow voice. “I must return to her in case she awakens.”
She pulled her leg free and began putting on her dress. Elijah stood heavily, pushing up against the dread and disbelief that held him down, and began dressing as well.
“I know that,” he said. “I want to provide for both of you, if you’ll let me.”
She turned to him with a wounded expression.
“You think that’s the first time a man has told me that?” she asked, then made a sound of distaste.
Her question was sharp, the precise whip of a lash by someone who has felt its bite and knows exactly where to strike.
“I’m different from other men, remember?” he joked, trying to keep the pleading tone from his voice.
“One thing is the same: you’ll leave me eventually and I’ll be left to pick up the pieces,” she said, shaking her head. “I cannot value fleeting pleasure over Charlotte’s well-being.”
“Fleeting?” Elijah felt the word dig into his heart like bird shot. “I care for you. More than you imagine if you think I’d abandon you. Please reconsider.”
“You’ll be gone by morning, so there’s nothing to consider,” she said in the flat tone he was learning to hate. He wanted her to snap at him, to show the liveliness he knew existed within her.
“You’ve misunderstood,” he said. “I wasn’t planning on leaving tonight. I’ll be here in the morning and I’ll still want you to come with me. I’ll always want you with me, Katie.”
She closed her eyes against his words, and a bit of hope flared in his chest. Perhaps she would change her mind. Perhaps—
“It is you who’s misunderstood. The remaining Patriots are to be taken to the prison ships on the morrow,” she said. Elijah’s heart began to hammer in his chest as the full impact of what she was saying hit him. “I overheard a soldier say so this very night, as you performed for them. That is why I wanted you to love me. Whatever plan you have must be enacted now. Goodbye, Elijah.”
She turned and rushed off into the night.
Elijah wanted to bellow his anger. He wanted to chase after her and convince her to change her mind. Instead, he quietly ran toward the barn. He had soldiers to free, trampled heart or no.