McCord to the station. One looked barely old enough to shave and the other two were like Cunningham—they’d fought for the South. They were all smiling at her.
As the men stepped aside, she glanced into the larger room that would become the hospital bay and she laughed. They’d put a tent in the middle of a room lined with boxes. One of the privates stepped forward. “We figured we didn’t have time to clean the place so we put up a new tent for you, ma’am, with supplies we found in some of these boxes.”
Another added, “You got a lock on the door to the room, so you’ll be safe, but you’ll have your own apartment once you’re in the building.” He lifted the flap. “We put some coals on the grate so you’ll be snug as a bug in here tonight.”
Annalane laughed and clapped her hands. “Thank you, gentlemen. I’ve never had something so grand.” They’d even put a little white tea set by the grate and a rug made from blankets on the floor.
They all smiled and would have watched her move in if Cunningham hadn’t shoved them along. “Lock the door behind us, ma’am. We’ll take turns tonight guarding outside, so all you have to do is yell if you need anything.”
Annalane thanked them each again, locked the door, and stepped inside her very own playhouse tent. She had the feeling a few of the items had been stolen from her brother’s room, but tonight she didn’t care. She was in heaven.
First, as she’d done for years traveling with the supply wagons and medical tents, she unpacked her few belongings and laid them out so they’d be in easy reach when she was called to work. Then she dressed in her white nightgown and warm robe that tied empire style. The hem might be frayed and the lace threadbare in a few places along the collar, but she always felt elegant in her robe.
She sat in front of a little mirror and brushed her hair, then braided it in a long braid. Smiling, she remembered how her mother used to tell her that she might never be a beauty, but she had pretty hair.
Her parents had both died two years ago when a flu hit the city hard that winter. Devin had been in his first year of medical school and couldn’t come home. She’d tried to keep working and deal with the debts. One by one she’d sold off everything they’d had, to pay bills and keep Devin in school. He resented having to join the army because there was no money to help set up his practice, but deep down Annalane had thought it would be good for him.
A knock sounded at the door just beyond the folds of her tent.
She checked her robe, slipped from her warm tent and opened the door.
McCord stepped inside, frowning. “Don’t unlock the door unless you know who is on the other side.”
“All right. Go out and knock. I’ll pretend I don’t know you.” He’d been nothing but cold to her all evening. If she didn’t know better she’d swear someone else had been in the shadows with her last night. Someone else had kissed her. Not this man who hadn’t looked at her once during dinner.
He ignored her suggestion and raised an eyebrow at the tent.
She was thankful for the distraction. “The boys put it up for me. Isn’t it great?”
He didn’t smile, but at least he stopped frowning. “Yeah, it is.”
“What did you need, Ranger McCord? It’s a little late for a social call and I do have a guard outside.”
McCord reached behind her and shoved the bolt. “I told that Clark kid, who’s guarding this place like it’s the national bank, to go eat some supper. I need to talk to you.”
“About what?” He’d had an hour to talk to her at dinner and never said a word.
“About this.” He leaned closer, backing her against the door, and hesitated a few inches from her mouth. “I’m going to kiss you again, Anna. If you have objections, you’d better voice them now. All you have to say is stop. Just say the word and I back away.” The words were snapped like orders he’d rehearsed. “But if you don’t…”
She could feel her breathing quicken but she faced him squarely. This was probably his idea of having a conversation with a lady. The man had the social skills of a turtle. “Well, first of all, my name is Annalane, not Anna, and I’ll not tolerate being manhandled or talked to like I’m…”
He closed the distance between them and covered her mouth with his. She pushed on his chest and tried to turn her head away, but he held her with his body pressed hard against hers and his hand cupped around the back of her head. Evidently the conversation part of his visit was over.
This was no gentle kiss of hello, but a demanding, searching advance based on need and longing. He slid his hand to her jaw and urged her mouth open so he could taste and smother her complaint.
As she knew he would, he gentled when she kissed him back. He moaned low and twisted his fingers through her hair as he took her through the lessons he’d taught her the night before in the blackness.
Finally, when he moved his mouth to her throat, she breathed in deeply as he whispered, “That’s the way, Anna. I knew you’d feel this good, taste this good. I couldn’t have imagined last night when you were lying against me.”
He brushed the tips of his fingers along her chin. “I think I might have died if I’d had to sit across the room much longer without touching you.” He held her cheek as he kissed her again and again while he mumbled something about going slow.
The thought of saying stop never occurred to her. She wanted a man who was gentle and caring, maybe even hesitant as a lover, but she’d not tell McCord to stop. She felt her body melting against his, needing his nearness, his touch, his kiss, as deeply as he seemed to need her.
Finally, he leaned away and studied her, drinking her in with his stormy gaze.
She knew he’d kiss her again if she tried to talk to him, so she lifted her arms to his shoulders and let her breasts rise and fall against his chest with each breath.
He raised his head and smiled at her as if he could read her mind. His hand circled round her braid and he tugged until she leaned her head back, offering him her throat.
He unbuttoned the first few buttons of her high-collared gown and began nibbling along her throat. He stopped where her heart pounded just below the surface of her skin and kissed just there. Then, as if in thanks for her offering, he returned to her mouth and kissed her lightly, playing with her tongue. He didn’t have to say he missed her—he was showing her. There’d been no need to tell her he had to touch her—she knew.
When she pulled him closer, she felt his low moan more than heard it. “I know, Anna,” he whispered against her ear. “I know.”
Slowly, the kiss grew deeper. Her whole body felt like it was on fire. He stepped back and tugged at the ribbons holding her robe. When she protested, he pushed her hands away. When she tried again to hold her robe closed, he placed both of her hands behind her with one strong grip he opened the robe with his free hand.
She wiggled, trying to get free. He was going too fast, being too bold. She wanted a gentle lover, a slow lover, a hesitant…the feel of his hands tugging her robe free made her forget her list of wants.
She wouldn’t stop him and he smiled down at her, knowing what they were doing was new and frightening to her.
“Easy now, Anna. Just relax against me. I wish there was time to go slower,” he whispered as he kissed his way from her ear to her lips. “You know I’m not going to hurt you, don’t you?”
She nodded and moved her hands to his shoulders, barely aware of when he’d released her.
“I’m going to touch you, if you’ve no objection. This will be no light brush over your clothes, like before. When I’m finished there will be no doubt you’ve been handled a bit.” He kissed the corner of her mouth. “And, darling, you’re going to love every minute.”
When she opened her mouth to question this, his kiss