Their Golden Bride (Bridgewater Brides)

by Ann Mayburn

  “No, our little tigress did that. Said she wanted a visible claim on us to keep the hussies away.”

  Rowan, blushing so hard now her ears were red, started to walk away. “Yes, well just give me a few moments, and I’ll be ready.”

  “Wait,” Garret said as he caught her by her slender wrist. “There’s something I want to give you first. A claim of our own, but without the biting.”

  “I don’t know,” Edward said as he gave Rowan a teasing grin. “I kind of like the biting.”

  Garret snorted, then pulled a small black leather box out of his pocket. “I’ll gladly wear your bite mark, Rowan Larsen, if you’ll do us the honor of wearing our ring. And, before you say you can’t, just think of it as promise that you’ll give us a chance to prove that we can make you happy.”

  She stood very still for a few long moments, and Edward literally held his breath until she said, “All right, I’ll wear your ring, but I’m not promising to marry you. Only that…I’m heavily considering it.”

  Edward and Garret exchanged a glance filled with victory before Garret opened the box, revealing a platinum ring with a sparkling blue stone a few shades darker than Rowan’s eyes in the center.

  “Oh! Oh, my goodness,” she breathed, her eyes wide and her pink lips slightly parted. “It is beautiful. It must have cost a fortune. Where did you get it?”

  Garret looked over to Edward, who gently held Rowan’s hand in his own as Garret slipped the ring on. “Dr. Tibbs sold it to us. He had Mrs. Tibbs measured your finger size while she was helping you bathe, and together we found a ring that we felt suited you. If you don’t like it, I’m sure we can find something else.”

  “No,” she said quickly, snatching her hand back and holding it to her chest. “No, I love it. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever worn.”

  Relief filled Edward at the sight of the ring on her finger, another battle won in the war for her heart.

  Still looking at the ring, Rowan said, “Let me go freshen up, and then I’ll be ready for dinner.”

  “Take your time,” Garret said as he took a seat in one of the high-backed chairs by the fire. “They serve dinner from six until eight o’clock for the guests and whatever town folk decide they want to dine at the Inn for the evening.”

  A determined look came over her face as she crossed the room, then she paused at the doorway connecting to her suite and looked over her shoulder at them. “Thank you. For everything.”

  She disappeared before he could respond, the door closing quickly behind her.

  “Edward,” Garret said in a low voice as he gestured to the chair opposite of him. “Come here. I have some news. A telegram came in while we were bathing from our friend Henry the pub owner back in Butte. Henry’s kept his ears and eyes open for any news on Mr. Charles, like we asked. Seems the bloody bastard is on the hunt for us. When we exchanged gunfire, not only did we wound Mr. Charles, but we killed the thug that was with him, who turned out to be his cousin. Word around the city is that Mr. Charles has put a sizeable bounty on our heads.”

  “Son of a bitch.” Edward gripped the edges of the fireplace, staring down into the flames. “So, we should be expecting trouble?”

  “Maybe,” Garret said as he tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair, his blue eyes darkening as he clenched and unclenched his jaw. “Mr. Charles doesn’t know who we are—yet. He’s mainly looking for ‘Roger,’ since he knows we were with him.”

  “Well, that’s a bit of good luck on our side,” Edward said. “Bridgewater is far enough away that there is every reason to believe he’ll never find us. If he does? Well, he won’t find us to be easy prey. Men like Mr. Charles never last long. They always mess with the wrong person and ending up in a shallow grave in the wilderness.”

  “I was thinking that as well.” Garret toyed with the gold chain attached to his pocket watch. “If, by some ill twist of fate, they do find us, well, I think they’ll be in for a sore surprise when they realize Bridgewater is mostly battle-hardened, retired military. I can’t think of a group of men I’d rather have at our backs than our brothers back home.”

  “God’s truth to that,” Edward said as he pushed away from the mantle. “Do we tell Rowan?”

  “No, I don’t think that would be wise. She’s been through enough and doesn’t need any more reasons to live in fear. I’ll send a telegram back to Henry asking him to let us know if anything changes.”

  “Agreed.” Edward rubbed his jaw, the slightly bristle of his hair already growing back and tickling his palm.

  Standing up, Garret placed his hand on Edward’s shoulder and gave it a hard squeeze. “And if anyone is foolish enough to try to collect a bounty on us, we’ll take care of them and Mr. Charles. He won’t be the first piece of human waste we’ve removed from this planet.”

  Memories of their years in the service flashed through his mind, and Edward nodded. “I will do anything to protect our family.”

  “Anything,” Garret replied as they both turned to look at the closed door separating their room from Rowan’s. “I’ll go into hell, both guns blazing, if it means keeping our bride safe.”

  6

  ROWAN

  * * *

  Slowly running her finger over the long, gilded handle of the fork, Rowan wondered if Mrs. Tibbs would be put out if Rowan stabbed the woman sitting across the room from her for openly flirting with Garret. The woman was French Canadian named Fleur, traveling with her uncle and cousin from Quebec to trade furs. She had gorgeous, thick brown hair that framed a very pretty oval face. And she had long, dark lashes that she used to maximum effect as she attempted to charm Garret.

  The French Canadians had joined the Tibbs, minus Nancy, and Rowan and her men for some social time after dinner.

  Edward, it had been decided by the men, would be Rowan’s public fiancé while Garret would pose as her cousin. They both had blonde hair and blue eyes and, even though his nose was narrow and aristocratic while hers was wide, they could pass as cousins. Very distant cousins, but close enough that people wouldn’t question their relationship.

  But, as they sat there, having what should be a pleasant time talking with a charming Dr. and Mrs. Tibbs, Rowan couldn’t help but feel guilty as she watched Garret play a game of cards with Fleur and her family. To her surprise, Garret spoke fluent French, and it irritated her further that she didn’t know what they were saying. She could only read Fleur’s body language. Rowan grit her teeth as Fleur looked at Garret from beneath her lashes, blushing prettily as they all laughed at something Fleur’s uncle had said.

  “And that’s when I became a monkey and decided to move to Russia,” Mrs. Tibbs said.

  Startled, Rowan tore her jealous gaze from the card table and focused on Mrs. Tibbs again.

  She found the older woman giving her a knowing look. “Green with jealousy is not a good color on you. Now put that fork down before we have to remove it from that poor simpleton’s eye. She is very pretty, but she is about as smart as my goat, Douglas—and he tries to eat dung.”

  Edward coughed from the chair nearby where he was sitting with Dr. Tibbs as they both smoked their pipes near the fire.

  Ignoring him, Rowan leaned forward as she set her dessert fork down next to the barely eaten, but delicious, chocolate cake. “I’m sorry. I know…” She tried to put her complicated feelings into words but was at a loss. “I’m not used to this.”

  Mrs. Tibbs leaned closer so they were whispering together, their conversation low enough that it was almost inaudible over the sounds coming from the card game. “Forgive me if I am prying, but I would give you the same advice I gave my daughters when they were considering becoming Bridgewater Brides.”

  Eager for some kind of guidance and feeling comforted by the older woman’s presence, Rowan nodded.

  “This,” her gaze darted over to the card table, her mouth going tight, “is part of the price you pay for marrying a man from Bridgewater. The world is not a kind place, and there are thos
e who would try to prosecute you for indecency and other foolish crimes. You have to ask yourself, can you really do this? Can you really spend a lifetime where you will never be able to publicly acknowledge your husbands without fear of ridicule and possible jail?”

  Rowan stared at her, taking in the seriousness of Mrs. Tibbs expression. Oh, how she wanted to confess that the ring on her finger was just a prop, but in truth it meant so much more. She was falling in love with Garret and Edward, and it scared her to death. Loving someone made you vulnerable, and she hated the bitter sting of jealousy that was still riding her emotions.

  “I don’t know,” she said whispered.

  “Then this is something you need to consider.” Mrs. Tibbs patted her hand, “Is what they’re offering you worth the price?”

  Sitting slowly back in her chair, Rowan looked over at Edward as he leaned forward on his elbows, deep in conversation with Dr. Tibbs. The lamplight cast deep shadows on his face, lending him an almost sinister look that she knew was a lie. Beneath that brash exterior beat a heart as strong and gentle as any man she’d ever met. Her father had been the same way. A big Viking of a man, who wouldn’t hurt a fly, but would beat the tar out of anyone that threatened his family.

  Her heart lifted a little as he caught her looking at him and gave her his slow, unbearably sexy smile. Lifting his hand to his mouth, he blew her a kiss that she swore landed on her heart with a thump. When she smiled back at him, he winked, then turned to face Dr. Tibbs when the older man said something that made Edward laugh.

  Looking the other way to the card table by the fire, she caught Garret already watching her. He was facing away from the other players, which was a good thing because the desire in his gaze was unmistakable. Heat stirred between her legs as she basked in his attention. His gaze felt like a caress, and her heart began to beat faster just from his look. The chemistry between them was potent, and she hoped no one noticed the sudden flush to her cheeks.

  Garret gave her a wink, then turned back to the card game as one of the men said his name, then something in French. As she watched, she once again noted that he was polite to Fleur, but at the same time distant and did nothing to encourage her interest. Trust was something that didn’t come easy, but she forced herself to stop watching over Garret like a jealous fishwife and return her attention to a carefully watching Mrs. Tibbs.

  Tilting her head to the side, she considered something then asked, “Do you daughters think the price of their family is worth the cost?”

  Mrs. Tibbs gave her a bright smile, “A million times over.”

  Rowan smiled back, then yawned. “Goodness, it is barely seven o’clock and it feels like midnight.”

  Making a tsking sound, Mrs. Tibbs stood and turned to Edward and Dr. Tibbs, “Edward, I believe our beautiful Rowan is in need of a good night’s rest. Would you be a dear and escort her to her room?”

  Garret stood from the card table, concern wreathing his handsome face. “I’ll help you. She is looking a little pale.”

  Fleur said something, but Garret shook his head and his reply made her pout, but he obviously didn’t care.

  In a matter of seconds, Rowan found herself sandwiched between her men as they hustled her up the stairs and into her bedroom.

  Once the door closed, Garret slumped against it with a huge sigh of relief. “Thank the Lord you finally got us out of there. That woman was driving me crazy. She is as dumb as a box of rocks and wouldn’t take a hint to save her life.”

  Edward laughed and went over to the door, giving his friend a pat on the shoulder as Garret gave an exaggerated grunt. “Sorry, my friend. Dr. Tibbs and I were discussing business and I lost track of time.”

  At some point, the maids had turned down the room for the night. A fire crackled merrily in the hearth and the thick rose velvet drapes had been drawn around the windows. The bed looked so inviting, with the pillows freshly plumped and the pale cream sheets turned back on the deep gold velvet blanket. She’d never stayed in such a luxurious place before, and another yawn cracked her jaw as she eyed the bed.

  It was big, really big, and Rowan wondered if this room, with the one adjacent with two beds, had been added to the Inn for when the owner’s Bridgewater daughters came to visit.

  “Rowan,” Garret said from softly behind her. “May we help you get ready for bed?”

  Remembering the last time they’d helped her fall asleep, she nearly moaned at the thought of the pleasure they’d given her. Feelings like she’d never experienced, sensations that had been better than anything she could have imagined. Turning slowly, she looked at them both before nodding.

  “I would like that very much.” Anticipation tightened her sex when both men gave her equally hungry looks. “Please.”

  Garret reached her first, but instead of grabbing her and giving her the kiss she needed, he led her over to the small table with the plush stool and etched mirror. A beautiful oil lamp burned there, and she watched the men in the mirror as the set about the task of carefully removing the pins from her hair. They were so intent, so careful not to hurt her, that she couldn’t help but giggle at the image.

  “What?” Edward asked around a mouthful of hair pins.

  “Nothing,” she giggled again.

  “How many pins did Mrs. Tibbs put in your hair?” Garret muttered as he tossed another pin into the growing pile on the dresser.

  “I have a lot of hair,” she said with a shrug, then sighed as the mass atop her head was finally free to tumble down.

  To her surprise, Edward began to massage her scalp with big, strong fingers that left her near limp with pleasure. Tingles raced from her scalp and down her spine, and she sighed with delight when Garret took one of her hands in his own and began to massage it. More prickles of desire sparked through her body, the need that never seemed to sleep waking beneath their touch. Leaning back, she found her head resting in the cradle of Edward’s hips as he stood behind her, his erection pressing against her cheek.

  They both froze, and Edward let out a deep growl, his hands tightening in her hair as she slowly, hesitantly rubbed her cheek against his rigid flesh.

  Garret kept massaging her hand, but his touch was sensual, stroking as he slowly worked his way up her arm to the buttons at the back of her dress. As she grew bolder and rubbed her face against Edwards erection, the rush of desire that burned her from within grew even hotter. Her pussy ached, and she could feel even her thighs becoming slick with her need. She loved this feeling, loved how good it felt to be touched by them and to touch in return.

  Garret gently pulled the dress down from her shoulders, revealing the chemise beneath. She glanced at the mirror and froze at the erotic tableau they made. Her nipples pressed against the fabric, dark points begging to be touched. She’d never felt a man’s bare hand on them, or mouth, and wondered what it would feel like. She didn’t have to wonder for long, because both Garret and Edward were on their knees next to her, their dark and light heads reflecting in the mirror as she looked between the image and the real thing.

  There was something incredibly naughty and erotic about watching them as they pulled away the last layer of clothing and revealed her breasts. They were nowhere near as large as Cassandra’s, and she felt a moment of doubt that was quickly blown away by their reaction. Both men cupped a breast, their fingers exploring her, making her shudder and moan as they plucked at her nipples, pinching her gently at first, then harder until she was twisting and writhing. It felt as if each breast had a direct line to her clit, and when Garret sealed his mouth over her nipple, she saw stars.

  Together, the men helped her stand and removed the rest of her clothes with a speed that left her breathless.

  Once she was completely nude, they both just stood there and stared at her in a way that had her trying to cover herself with her hands.

  “Stop staring,” she whispered.

  Garret took one hand, Edward the other, stopping her from shielding herself.

  “We’re st
aring,” Edward said in a voice thick with desire, “because you are the most gorgeous thing we’ve ever seen.”

  She would have protested that there were other women far more beautiful than she was, when Garret dropped to his knees before her.

  Facing her sex, he slowly ran his fingertips over the golden curls covering her mound. “Such a beautiful little pussy.”

  Edward stood behind her, cupping her breasts in his hands, toying with her nipples until the desire burned away her embarrassment of Garret openly inspecting her sex.

  “Open up for me,” he murmured. “Let me taste you like Edward did.”

  “I have a better idea,” Edward said in a voice tingled with seductive menace. “Put her legs over your shoulders. I’ll hold her.”

  “What?” she squeaked while the men lifted her, so her legs lay over Garret’s shoulders, her thighs gripping his head as he buried his face in her sex.

  She cried out as he positively devoured her, his tongue lashing at her clit, his teeth scraping the sensitive bud. Gripping his hair in one hand, she reached placed the other over Edward’s on her breast, enjoying the feeling of his touch even as her desire wound into a hot, tight coil in her belly with record speed. The ache between her thighs grew worse, and every ounce of her body seemed to be focused on the release that was building.

  Edward twisted her nipples, hard, and that was all she needed to come apart in their arms, her body straining against their hold as her thighs shook.

  Garret continued to feast on her, sticking his tongue in her still clenching channel, licking up the abundant honey spilling from her body. Edward slowed his touched, whispering in her ear how much he loved it when she climaxed, how beautiful she was, and a dozen other things that made her feel both aroused and cherished. She was so sensitive, and the rough scrape of his work hardened fingers against her nipples was too much.

  “Enough,” she cried out in a weak voice, so overstimulated she was shaking.