Underground Captive (56 page)

    
             
Nicki found herself alone, listening to the thunder and swift outbursts of wind.  Then dead calm.  It was frightening.  Wishing for Jared and the comfort of his arms, she wondered where he was.  But she knew.  He wouldn't let the stablehands work out there without helping them.  The menac
ing quiet unnerved her.  Going to Jared's liquor cabinet and getting what Mary Douglas had left of the scotch, Nicki poured it into a glass, half-filling it.  She swallowed deeply.  Liquid fire burned her throat, her eyes, and her nose.  Choking on the straight whisky she drank, it purged through her nose as well as her mouth.  When her fits of coughing subsided, she put the empty glass on the dining table and went upstairs.  If she was going to retch, she preferred it to be in the privacy of her bedchamber.  By the time she reached it, the whisky was swirling warmly around her middle, making her feel very relaxed.

    
             
Nicki undressed, taking off everything, putting on her nightrail.  The whisky had worked to make her very sleepy.  She climbed into her bed and fell asleep, remaining uninterrupted for several hours.

    
             
A sudden roll of thunder startled her awake.  The enraged wind howled its protest, slamming the unfastened shutters against the windows.  Nicki bolted out of her bed, letting out a terrified scream as she ran into the hall.

    
             
Jared opened his door immediately.  She flew into his out
stretched arms, shaking like a leaf.  He picked her up and carried her into his bedchamber.  Putting her down on his bed then hurrying across the hall to Nicollette's chamber, he lashed down the window shutters.

    
             
When he returned to his bedchamber, he found Nicki sitting in the middle of the bed, trembling like a frightened woods crea
ture.  Securing the bolt on his door, he rushed to her and gathered her in his arms.

    
             
"'Tis all right, Nicki.  'Tis all right, my precious bairn.  Ye're safe.  Ye're safe.  I'm here," Jared soothed, his breathing labored. 
Why did I lock the door?

    
             
"Oh J-Jared.  I-I'm sorry.  T-the thunder...the thunder woke me up," Nicki cried, putting her arms around his neck, burying her head in his chest.  He smelled clean and mas
culine.  She realized she was leaning her head against his bare skin.  Jared held her tight to him, whispering comfortingly to her, calming her fears.  Heat flamed her cheeks as she felt the gentle comfort of his arms become tense and possessive.

    
             
"Nicki," he said huskily, still holding her.  "I know ye're afraid but ye're safe.  This tempest will soon pass.  'Tis best ye go back to yer own bedchamber."  He could not trust his heart to have her so near.  Nay, near or far, his heart was Nicki's.   'Twas other parts of him that he couldn't trust.  If she stayed he would do more than just comfort her.  But even as he spoke, the wind wailed savagely.  The storm raged outside.

    
             
Nicki met his eyes once again with genuine fear.  He let out a breath and claimed her mouth.

    
             
She willed herself to stop shaking.  Jared's kiss, deep and intimate, plundered her senses with a different kind of storm.  Her arms tightened around him, a rush of desire flooding her being.

    
             
Feeling her response, Jared groaned and kissed her eyes, her cheeks, her throat.  He looked into her face.  Desire had re
placed the fear that was there only moments before.

    
             
"Are ye sure, Nicki?" Jared asked gently.  "Are ye sure ye want to stay?"

    
             
Her answer was a ravishingly sweet, wanton kiss, breaking down his half-hearted, questionable resistance.

    
             
Their lips melded together in hungry, flaming kisses.  His hands moved over her nightrail, dropping the sleeves below her shoulders, uncovering her breasts.  His passion flared almost unbearably as he slid kisses along a path to her breasts, gluttonously suckling one and gently fon
dling the other.

    
             
Molten fire surged through Nicki's veins, her belly, her woman's place, filling her whole being with an uncontrollable sensation.  Her loins ached for more.  She wanted all that Jared could give her.

    
             
He stripped off her nightrail and guided her hands to the side button on his breechcloth.  She unfastened it and it slipped off onto the bed.  Nicki gazed

trance-like at the rock hard stiffness of his maleness.  Hesitantly, she stroked it.  Jared gasped and groaned with pleasure.

    
             
Laying her beside him, he nibbled at her earlobe, kissing her cheeks, her neck.  Each new and different place he kissed and laved entangled her in a web of sweet, sweet desire.  His hot kisses found the secret passage between her thighs.  He teased the hardened, honey sweet bud with his tongue, thrusting inside her center, causing excruciating pleasure.  She writhed with blissful abandonment.  He ravaged and assaulted her senses as he retreated his path along the inside of her thigh to the indenta
tion of her navel, where he laved with his tongue before bringing his mouth back to her round, firm breasts.

    
             
His shaft came into contact with her sheath and she whimpered with elation.  He slid inside her tight, hot moistness and began moving with a slow, gentle rhythm.  Wrapping his hands in her long ebony mane, he kissed her with aching tenderness, sliding in and out of her center, tantalizing and teasing.  Her response shattered his control.

    
             
Nicki arched her hips to Jared, running her fingers through his thick hair, bringing her mouth to his.  Kissing him pos
sessively, she met each of his thrusts with her own.

    
             
They spiraled into their sensual world in wild, uninhibited fervor.  Nicki's entire being shuddered with fevered ex
citement.  The feeling of exquisite pleasure caught her in a sugar-sweet maelstrom.  She clung to him, dimly aware of hot, molten fire erupting in splintering, flowing rapture as he released his seed inside her belly.  Her body, shuddering with quivers, soared to meet him in wondrous, shattering exultation.

    
             
Outside, the storm moaned with its last agonizing breath.  In its wake nothing more than a drizzle was left.  Then quiet.  A grateful, blessed quiet.

    
             
Inside, Jared held her and they slept in the peace and serenity of each other's arms.

38

    
             
Near noon, Nicki awakened alone in Jared's huge bed.  Sitting up with a start, she looked all around the room.  The sun shone bright through slits in the closed draperies.  She crossed her hands over her chest, covering her naked breasts, her mind slowly focusing on where she was.

    
             
Her head hurt damnably and events of the night before slug
gishly came back to her.  The scotch whisky!  Oh, how her head ached!  And the storm.  She'd run to Jared in fear and...and...and she'd let him....Again she'd let him...touch her! After vowing she'd never let him come near her again.

    
             
She'd only wanted reassurance that the storm would pass without harm coming to her.  She'd only wanted to be comforted with his words last night, but her body had betrayed her.  As it did now.  It astonished her to see that her nipples had hardened when she thought about Jared's lovemaking. 

             
Just the thought of him made her think all kinds of un
ladylike things.  She flushed with heat, her mind settling on the passion that occurred between them last night.  Why, she was no better than Judith!  What was that Mary Douglas called Judith?  Jared's special harlot?  Well, Nicki vowed once again, she was not about to become his
other
special harlot--his new favorite whore.

    
             
Climbing out of bed and looking around for her nightrail, she found it neatly draped across a chair.  The room had a distinct chill in it that she hadn't felt at first.  She hurriedly slipped the gown over her nakedness.

    
             
She went to the windows, drew open the heavy draperies and gasped at what she saw.  The pigs were snorting around in the muddy flowerbeds.  The cows roamed about in the flattened corn and alfalfa fields and the chickens, geese, and ducks wandered all over.  It was obvious that the barn's inhabitants took this rare opportunity to scatter and wander frivolously over the grounds.

    
             
There was debris everywhere, branches and limbs from some of the trees  scattered all over.  The wicker table and the rocker were smashed against the big oak tree that stood in the garden circle.  The delicate mimosa tree lay uprooted a little ways down the path.  Several crepe myrtle lay on their sides.

             
"
Mon dieu
!" Nicki exclaimed aloud.  "What devastation!"

    
             
She didn't see anyone about, although she heard the sounds of many voices.  She went to the door.  Opening it, she looked around cautiously before rushing across the hall to her own bedchamber.  Once inside the safety of her room, she went straight to the window to look out on the backside of the house.  What she saw was worse than what she'd seen on the front side.

    
             
There was no corral fence anymore, just scattered, broken wood covering a large portion of the yard.  The roof was miss
ing from the horse stables and seemingly nowhere to be found.  In the opposite direction, where the barn once was, lay a crumpled heap of red painted wood.

    
             
Nicki couldn't believe all the ruination.   She looked way out in the distance and saw Jared mounted on King George.  The sun was high in the sky and its golden rays bounced off the imperious blond head, catching it in copper and gold highlights.  His white shirt gleamed even whiter in the bright sunshine.  He had almost an impossible task ahead of him.  It would take weeks to clean up all the mess.  Moving away from the window, Nicki sat on the edge of her bed, realizing fully the extent of the damage from the storm. 

    
             
Her head throbbed horribly.  She'd never, ever take another drink of scotch again!  Coffee might help her headache.  She went to the washstand, poured water in the basin from the pitcher and washed her face.  Then she put on a deep ruby colored gown and fastened a lacy fichu to it, for the neckline was scandalously low for the daytime.  However, she may be needed to help and this was her oldest gown.  It really didn't matter if it became soiled and unusable afterwards.  Slipping on her black riding boots, she went downstairs to see if there was coffee on the stove.

    
             
She found Mary Douglas and Elizabeth busy making bread and cooking a huge pot of stew.

    
             
"Mornin', lassie," Mary Douglas said in a cheery tone.  "'Tis work we 'ave tae do taeday.  The storm was a bad one.  Master Jared lost six 'orses. Two were 'is favorite mares.  'E's no inna good mood.  'E said 'e slept through the worst part o' the storm.  'E said storms are like females.  Unpredictable an' destructive."

    
             
"Mary Douglas, dinna go on sae," Elizabeth huffed.  "The lass dinna care what Master Jared thinks about the storm!"

    
             
Nicki's eyes narrowed.  "Or females," she added with ire.  The bastard.  She didn't like being compared to a storm and she felt wholeheartedly that Jared's comment about the storm was directed solely at her.  She had made another mistake by giving herself to him last night.  She should have expected the damned rogue to turn on her again after the way he treated her the first time she'd lain with him.  From the looks of things, this time would be no different.

    
             
How could she have allowed it to happen again?  How could she have allowed her body to betray her will?  Never again!

             
Jared Fleming was vermin!

    
             
She would get away from him and his devilish, charming, per
suasive ways if it was the very last thing she did on this earth.  Perhaps she wouldn't be watched so closely if she could gain everyone's trust once again.  Her mind whirled as she decided exactly how she would go about doing that.

    
             
"Oh, let's not talk about
Monsieur
Fleming," Nicki said as sweetly as she could.  "I'm sure there are more interesting topics."