Dearest Enemy

Chapter Forty-Two

Chapter Forty-Three

Chapter Forty-Four

Chapter Forty-Five

Chapter Forty-Six

Chapter Forty-Seven

Chapter Forty-Eight

Chapter Forty-Nine

Coming Next Month

Washington, D.C.

November 1864

Wintertime in Washington.

A heavy snow was falling on that frigid November afternoon when the tall, lean, thirty-six-year-old Union naval officer hurried in out of the cold. Once inside the remote cottage long owned by his wealthy family, the handsome officer hung his musette bag on the coat tree in the small foyer. Then he stamped his booted feet and shrugged out of his heavy greatcoat.

Shivering and rubbing his hands together, he turned and went into the parlor, crossing directly to the cold fireplace. He began tossing logs into the grate to build a much needed fire. Within minutes flames shot up the chimney and a healthy blaze began to warm the chilled room. The officer smiled, pleased with his handiwork.

He turned and crossed to the mahogany bar that stretched along one side of the large room's back wall. He took down a couple of gleaming crystal brandy snifters from a shelf behind the bar. He snagged the glasses in one hand and grabbed a carved decanter of cognac with the other, carrying both to the fire. He placed them at the edge of an enormous fur rug that lay spread out on the floor directly before the blaze.

He rose to his feet and waited.

Rear Admiral Mitchell B. Longley had slipped away from his fleet command to rendezvous for a brief hour or two with the luscious red-haired, blue-eyed enchantress with whom he was falling in love. It wasn't wise, he realized, to be away from his weary sailors even for a short time. But in this case, it was necessary. He hadn't seen his beautiful sweetheart in weeks and the long separation was making it increasingly hard for him to concentrate. To be as sharp and cunning as a naval commander needed to be in a time of war.

This tryst, he reasoned, was essential. To him and to the Union Navy. After a sweet hour in his angel's arms he would leave this place calm and keen-minded, ready to go back into battle against the hated Rebs. Who would begrudge him a few stolen moments of bliss that might well save his sanity?

Mitch heard her coming up the front walk. He rushed to the door and eagerly yanked it open. And felt his heart hammer against his ribs when he saw her. Native Virginian and irresistible charmer, Suzanna LeGrande stood on the stoop smiling up at him. The hood of her long cape covered her glorious hair, but her brilliant blue eyes were sparkling with life and her berry-red lips were turned up in a dazzling smile.

“Am I late?” she teased, and tossed her hood off to reveal the fiery red hair that framed her fair face.

“Right on time, darling,” Mitch said, drawing her inside and shoving the door closed as he bent and kissed her.

Suzanna sighed and placed her hands on his trim waist. She loved the way Mitch kissed her after they'd been apart. His first kiss was always so powerful, so potent, as if he was starved for the taste of her. Now, just like those other times they had met after being apart for days or weeks, this thrilling kiss went on and on and made her knees weak and her stomach contract.

When at last he took his lips from hers, Mitch said against her perfumed hair, “We haven't much time, my love.”

“Then let's don't waste a minute of it,” she breathlessly replied.

“My thoughts exactly,” Mitch said as he unfastened the hook beneath her chin and shoved her heavy cape off her slender shoulders.

He hung the velvet wrap on the coat tree beside his still-damp greatcoat and bulging black musette bag. And then smiled with pleasure as he watched Suzanna hurry toward the fire, struggling with the buttons going down the back of her blue woolen gown.

The pair laughed and teased each other as they hurried to undress.

“I'll bet I beat you,” taunted Mitch, his dark navy blouse already stripped off and tossed aside.

“Not on your life,” Suzanna retorted, stepping out of her lace-trimmed petticoats.

Articles of clothing flew across the room as the laughing competitors raced to be first to get naked.

“Looks like I'm going to win, Miss LeGrande,” Mitch proclaimed, as he stuck his thumbs into the waistband of his white linen underwear, the only article of clothing remaining on his tall, lean body.

“I don't think so, Admiral Longley,” Suzanna squealed as she kicked off her white ruffled pantalets.

Naked, they stopped laughing. Wordlessly they stepped into each other's arms atop the soft fur rug. Both shuddered at the initial touch of bare flesh on flesh. They kissed passionately and sank to their knees.

Too long denied the kind of ecstasy that was impossible to ever forget, they couldn't wait. In seconds Mitch was making eager, anxious love to Suzanna on the lush dark fur, while the flickering flames tinted their enjoined bodies a pale orange hue. Their shared orgasm occurred almost the minute he was inside her. That's how hot they were for each other. Neither minded that it was over so soon.

In fact, both were again laughing as the spent Mitch fell over onto his back beside Suzanna. Struggling for breath, they kidded each other about their lack of control. But when finally the laughter subsided and the gasping for breath ceased, Mitch turned onto his side by Suzanna, raised up on an elbow and laid a hand lightly on her stomach.

The tip of his forefinger circling the small indentation of her navel, he said with a sheepish grin, “I don't want you calling me the ‘five-minute man.'”

Suzanna smiled. “Then you'll have to convince me that you aren't.”

Mitch did just that.

He made love to Suzanna again, this time taking it slow and easy, stretching out the pleasure for the better part of an hour, each savoring every sweet moment of the incredible bliss.

“I've just enough time for a bath,” Mitch finally said with a yawn. “Care to join me?”

“Mmm, too lazy,” Suzanna replied, not stirring. “I might just take a catnap right here.”

“Good idea, sweetheart.” Mitch kissed her turned-up nose and agilely rose to his feet.

Once he was out of the room and safely in his tub, Suzanna quickly rose. She rushed out into the foyer and took down Mitch's black naval musette bag, which she carried into the parlor and placed atop the mahogany bar. She opened it and anxiously went through the papers, searching for pertinent dispatches.

Her eyes widened in horror as she read a document setting forth the timeline and exact location where the Union Navy planned to launch a major attack on the unsuspecting Confederate Rapidan River stronghold. Suzanna was trembling with emotion as she carefully placed all the documents back inside the musette bag and returned it to the foyer.

When Mitch walked into the room with a towel around his waist, Suzanna was just as he had left her—stretched out naked before the fire, seemingly dozing.

Mitch looked down at her and weakened. “Perhaps I could stay awhile longer.”

“Could you, darling?” she trilled, rolling up into a sitting position and tugging playfully at his covering towel.

Mitch exhaled heavily. “No. No, I really can't. I must get back to the fleet.”

Reluctantly, he got dressed. When he was once again in full dress blues, he came to her, cupped the back of her head, bent from the waist and kissed her goodbye.

When he straightened, he said, “I'm not sure when I'll be able to get away again.”