prison." If her kisses wouldn't do it, her words would have to. She began to nibble at the base of his throat.
He ought to fling her from him, but the warmth replacing the ice in his veins felt too good. He'd used this form of solace before, knew how well it worked, and he wanted it. He wanted Evie. But he couldn't have her. He steeled himself and hoped she would understand.
"I did, after taking out a squad of Union soldiers who'd captured my brother. I was holed up in the rocks where they couldn't reach me, and I just picked them off, one by one. I must have killed a dozen of them; they couldn't avoid me. I finally ran out of ammunition. And they still had my brother. He died in prison. So I accomplished nothing. I met the brother of one of the men I'd killed later. He wasn't any different from Michael. We could have been friends if he'd worn a different uniform. Do you understand any of this, Evie?"
"No. I don't want to. You did what you had to do to save your brother. Why are you blaming yourself?"
Her cunning teeth had nipped another button and now his shirt was spread wide. Tyler felt her lips nibbling at his nipple, and a livid streak of desire shot through him. He was only a man. He could resist only so much. His fingers found the hooks at the back of her dress.
"I killed a dozen good men, Evie. Killed them. Shot them in cold blood. I aimed and fired and reloaded and kept on killing until I ran out of ammunition. It was like there was someone else inside me, some savage beast lusting for blood. I couldn't stop. Even when I knew it was useless, I cried and aimed and fired again. I was seventeen years old, Evie, and I wanted to be dead."
Tyler could feel her shivering in his arms; he didn't know whether from passion or fear. The back of her gown gaped open, but all he could touch was her corset. He wished for a knife to cut the damned strings. Instead, he started pulling the pins from her hair.
"You wanted to save your brother." Her imagination was too vivid not to picture the scene. She closed her eyes and concentrated on feeling.
"I had to save him. He was the oldest. He was the only one who could save the plantation. I couldn't do it. Nobody had ever taught me how. I was the baby. If Michael died, everything was lost. But I couldn't stop him from dying any more than I could stop from losing the plantation. A dozen men died for nothing. I put my gun away and swore never to be put in that position again. And now look what you're doing to me."
She was pulling his shirt from his pants and running her hands up his back, but that wasn't what he meant. Defiantly, she released him and jerked her arms from her bodice, pulling the gown down to her waist. Her hands began working at the ties holding it over her petticoats. Her corset pushed her breasts up until they strained at the edge of her chemise. Tyler stared down into the valley between and felt what remained of his control slipping away. His fingers reached of their own accord for her corset strings.
The contraption sprang open as he released the ribbons. He took an edge in each hand and ripped it wide, flinging the lace and bones across the room. Evie stared at him wide-eyed, but he had warned her.
The tapes at her waist parted easily, and the hoops and petticoat fell with the gown to her feet. She ought to be shaking in her shoes by now, but she merely stepped over the puddle of material and reached for his shirt.
Tyler stared in astonishment as Evie grabbed his shirt front and ripped until the remaining buttons flew across the room. When she attempted the same trick on his trouser front, he gave a curt laugh and caught her waist, throwing her toward the bed.
Half on and half off the bed, she kicked as he fell down on top of her, but she wasn't trying hard enough. Tyler settled himself between her legs to keep from being maimed, then caught her flailing hands above her head as he reached for her chemise.
Evie gasped as the thin material fell in two, exposing her nakedness. She had known