Four under the Mistletoe: A MFMM Menage Romance (Christmas Billionaire Menage Series Book 2)

by Tia Siren

  ''Of course,'' Charlotte said, as she stroked his head.

  The road from London to Sedgefield House was a journey of around thirty miles and took three hours. For the most part it was open countryside and the roads were reasonably passable. Things changed when the road passed through Finchley Wood. A passage of around three miles. The trees stopped sunlight from drying the road, and it was often wet and rutted.

  When they reached the forest, the coachman slowed the horses to a walk and everybody clung to a hand rail, as the coach swung from left to right, through the rutted ground.

  After two miles, the coachman was pleased with his progress. But he shouted out when he saw a hooded man on a black horse, standing in front of the coach, pointing a pistol at him.

  ''Put your hands up and get down,'' he said. The coachman got down and stood next to one of the horses. ''Get the people out of the coach,'' the rider demanded. The coachman went to the door and knocked. The two lovers had the curtain down, and weren't aware why the coach had stopped.

  Peter opened the door and saw a man pointing a pistol at him. ''What on earth are you doing, sir?'' he asked.

  ''Get out of the coach and kneel down over there,'' he pointed to a place next to a tree. ''If you refuse I will shoot you. You do the same,'' he said to the coachman. ''Charlotte stay in the coach.''

  Peter walked to the place the man had asked him to and knelt. The coachman knelt next to him. When Peter felt the pistol touch his skull he started to pray.

  From somewhere in the forest there was a bang and a flash. The robber cried out in agony, and fell down next to Peter. Peter grabbed the pistol and stood up. The man was holding his knee. It was almost completely blown away. When Peter bent down and removed the robber's hood, he gasped. The coachman ran after Charlotte, and knocked her to the ground. Her screams frightened the birds from the trees, as he pulled her by the hair back to the coach.

  When two horsemen appeared from the forest Peter thought they were Sir John's accomplices.

  ''Get down from your horses, this instant,'' he told them as he pointed the pistol at them. ''James,'' he exclaimed, as Emily's brother took off his hood. When Emily took of her hood, his mouth fell open. What is happening?'' he asked totally confused.

  ''I'll tell you what is happening,” Emily said. “Sir John and Miss Pemberly have been plotting to kill you. I found out about it, and as I am unable to shoot, I asked James to help me. As you can see by the state of Sir John's knee, he is an extremely accomplished marksman. These two wanted to kill you so that Sir John could marry me, and take my wealth.''

  Peter looked at Charlotte, who was being held firmly by the coachman. She dropped her eyes from him. ''Emily I.......I don't know.....what …...to''

  ''James will go and fetch the police, once these two have been arrested, you will come back to Sedgefield House with me.''

  *****

  They arrived home in the dark. Peter rode James' horse home. James had taken a lift to London with the police. When Joseph opened the door, Emily nodded to him in recognition of the part he had played in foiling Sir John's evil plot.

  ''Joseph was a great help in foiling the attempt on your life, my dear,'' she said.

  ''Thank you, Joseph. I am not fully aware of the details, but my wife will no doubt inform me. I will see you handsomely rewarded for you efforts.''

  ''There is really no need, my lord,'' Joseph said in his usually modest fashion.

  ''Joseph, please bring two whiskeys into the drawing room. This time two real ones.''

  ''Now, Peter. Come and sit next to me,'' Emily said as Peter attempted to sit in his usual place. ''From now on you will sit next to me in the evenings.''

  ''Emily, I am so sorry for what I have done. I have been a fool. You are beautiful and clever and I have ignored you and behaved terribly badly.''

  ''It is no matter, Peter. I will always do everything in my power to protect our marriage, even if that means asking my brother to shoot someone. You are a very special man, I adore you, and I love you more than I can bear. All I ask is that you please try to love me back.''

  ''Oh Emily, I do. Until this evening, I didn't realize how much you mean to me. I do love you.''

  ''Then let's finish our drinks and you can take me to bed and prove your love to me.''

  *****

  When Peter took off his shirt and dropped his trousers to the floor, Emily could see how much he desired her. It was the first time in many weeks that she had seen his hard shaft. When she let her nightgown drop to the floor, Peter could see how ready she was for him. The soft curls between her legs shone with her desire and her nipples were erect.

  They came into each other’s arms and kissed. It was too much for Peter, who was so racked with guilt that a tear escaped from his eye and rolled over his cheek. Emily watched it until it reached his jaw, then she liked it from him. Peter was overcome with desire and love. He picked her up and carried her to the bed. They lay next to each other and kissed. Emily loved the feeling as his penis rubbed against her soft thigh.

  He got up and crawled to the end of the bed. He took Emily by the ankles and spread her legs wide apart. As he looked at her womanhood, his hard member twitched. He bent down between her legs and without delay licked the length of her vulva. Emily cried out and thrust her hips up from the bed. He licked her again. When his mouth fixed over her clitoris, and his tongue began to make tiny movements on her, she gasped and pulled his hair. As his tongue stayed fixed to the same spot, Emily felt the muscles in her belly tighten. When Peter did what he had never done before, Emily's orgasm hit her. His tongue on her clitoris and two fingers deep inside her, was too much.

  She lay back and enjoyed the waves that made her body tremble. When they began to wane she pushed him onto his back, and took him into her mouth. He tasted salty and the scent of his sweat made her ache to be filled by him. She placed her hands on his strong thighs and felt the coarseness of the hair which covered them. As her head bobbed up and down, Peter played with her blonde hair. Soon it became too much for him and he pushed her head from him. As he lay her down, her legs fell open. He entered her without assistance in one hard thrust. As he parted his wife's sex, she groaned and thrust back at him, willing him on. As well as an over whelming feelings of love, Peter felt an overbearing sense of guilt. As he pushed into her he gritted his teeth and willed the feeling away. Emily looked up and saw his forehead covered in sweat. She ran her hand over it and licked his salty juice from her palm.

  ''Emily, I love you,'' he said. She had waited a long time to hear him utter those words, and she basked in the effect it had on her body and her mind. She wanted to feel his love flowing into her now and she matched him with her hip movements. When she tightened the muscles in her vagina, he pushed into her twice more and cried out her name. Emily put her hands onto his chest and screamed as his seed triggered another orgasm.

  *****

  When James knocked at the door to Sedgefield House, it was snowing.

  ''Look mummy, it's Uncle James.''

  ''My, my, you two are growing up.''

  ''Have you brought some Christmas presents for us?'' Harriet asked.

  ''Harriet, don't be so rude,'' Emily said.

  ''Yes, don't be so rude,'' little James added. ''Have you though?''

  ''Who'd have a three year old and a five year old?'' Emily asked James.

  ''Uncle James is a hero,'' Harriet said. ''Mummy told me.''

  Peter walked into the room. ''James, Merry Christmas.'' he said to his brother in law. ''Yes Harriet, Uncle James is indeed a hero,'' he added.

  ****

  THE END

  BWWM Collection

  The Russian’s Secret Love Child – Tyra’s Story

  A BWWM Billionaire Pregnancy Romance

  ''It's okay, Tyra, hold on to me,'' Natalie said as Tyra collapsed into her arms.

  Father Smith had told me it would be like this, Tyra thought. But which of the emotions had he meant? The Grief or the guilt? Tyra was
experiencing both. Two of the most powerful human emotions were wracking through her at will.

  ''Tyra, we're so sorry for your loss.'' Tyra lifted her head from Natalie's shoulder. It was Mr. and Mrs. Radley Samuels, Tyra's boss and his wife.

  ''Thank you for coming. I really appreciate it.'' Tyra didn't think she could speak, but the words came out somehow. Natalie handed her another tissue and for a moment, Tyra could see clearly again. She looked to her left and saw a line of mourners waiting to express their condolences to her.

  ''If only I hadn't been so selfish,'' Tyra said to Natalie as they walked up the cemetery path. It had taken an eternity to work through the line of those seeking to express their condolences and Tyra was exhausted. ''It was foggy, and I knew dad didn't want to drive that day. It was me. Me moaning that they hadn't been to see me in my new home in the city. Lord knows, I think I even suggested they weren't interested in me anymore.'' She held onto Natalie again as another insufferable wave of guilt rammed at her. ''No, I killed them. Dad would never have taken mom out in the car on a day like normally.'' Natalie didn't know how to comfort her friend. They were both just twenty-three and beginning to make their way in the world. Losing parents wasn't supposed to happen until later in life.

  *****

  Three weeks after the funeral, Tyra stood outside the jewelry store on West 47th Street and looked at it, really looked at it, for the first time. I've been working here for seven months, and this is the first time I've properly taken the place in, she thought. Grief-stricken and riddled with guilt; she felt her senses had become sharper since the passing of her parents. It was as if someone was making her take notice of the world. Making her appreciate what can so easily be torn away from you, in an instant.

  West 47th Street was full of jewelry shops, but none as grand as J.P Samuels. They might as well have called it, 'Jewelers to the rich and famous,' she thought. For that's what it was. A place where the rich came to gorge on expensive stones. The front of the store was imposing. Between the cleanest store windows in New York, there were columns of polished black granite. The entrance was in the middle of the store and it too was surrounded by shiny black stone. The door itself was made of bulletproof, reinforced glass. What Tyra liked best about the facade was the sign. It was made of copper and ran the length of the store. The background was dark and the letters that had been forged onto it were polished and stood out better than any other letters on the street.

  ''Welcome back Tyra. I'm so sorry to hear about your mom and dad,'' Leon said. ''Thanks, Leon. It's very brave of you to say so.'' She'd found that most people just turned away from her, not knowing what to say. Not Leon. It was his job to stand inside the door and keep out the undesirables. He was perfectly equipped to do so at six feet seven and two hundred and fifty pounds, but it involved hours standing in the same place, day after day.

  ''Tyra, my girl,'' Radley Samuel's said. He'd been waiting for her. Normally, he didn't stand in the shop.

  He had others to do that for him. His job was managing the business that his grandfather had started. ''Come with me.''

  Tyra followed him through the store. They walked past glass cabinets filled with beautiful necklaces, rings, bracelets, earrings, and watches. At the back of the store, they went through a door and down a corridor. The first door on the right led to a security room. Tyra had never been in the room, but she had seen inside once when the door had been open. It was full of monitors and the latest lock down systems. It was all hi-tech, and she had no idea about any of it.

  Radley pushed open the first door on the left and showed her into his office. How can anyone spend hours in an office with no daylight? she wondered. There were pictures of his ancestors on one wall and a giant flora vase in the corner. What she liked most about his office was the carpet. It was deep red with the company crest woven into it.

  ''Tyra, please sit down.'' He pointed to a button backed armchair that stood in front of his mahogany desk. ''I want you to tell me how you are feeling. You've been through a lot, and I want to make sure you’re feeling up to working again.'' I wish I had a daughter like her, she's so graceful and kind, yet determined and motivated, he thought.

  ''Well, honestly speaking, I'm still feeling awful.'' You can tell him everything; he cares for you, she told herself as a moment of doubt crept into her mind. ''I weep a lot, especially in the evening and I feel guilty. So guilty.'' She noticed how closely he was listening to her. The furrows on his forehead were deep with concern for her, and his eyes were looking directly into hers, seeking any sign that a return to work may be too early.

  ''There is nothing I can say to you that will make you feel better. All I can do is tell you what happened to me when my son was killed.'' Killed? I didn't know he'd had a son, she thought. The thought that someone close to her had also suffered such a loss made her feel better.

  ''My son was only nineteen. He was studying business at New York University and working here at the weekends.'' He stopped talking for a moment, took out a white handkerchief from his jacket pocket and wiped his forehead. Tyra knew him to be fifty-nine. He was quite tall and very thin. It was as if he was so involved in his business he forgot to eat.

  He looked at her with a pained expression as he continued. ''One morning, he left home to go to college, and he never came back again. A man who had been drinking all night decided to get into his car and drive to the girlfriend he had left for dead in her apartment the previous evening. When he fell asleep at the wheel, it was my son he hit.'' Tyra noticed a crack in his voice. ''Walking down the street minding his own business.'' He took the handkerchief and blew his nose.

  ''Oh my God, that's awful,'' Tyra put her hand to her mouth.

  He nodded. Perhaps I shouldn't have burdened her with this, he thought. ''At first, everything was a blur. It was only after the funeral had taken place that it really hit me. After the funeral, everyone seems to disappear. All the kind words and supporting arms are no longer there. You are suddenly alone.'' He ran his hand through his thinning gray hair and looked towards a photo on his desk. Tyra couldn't see who it was. She assumed his son.

  ''The Undertaker had warned me about it. A deep hole, he'd called it, and I fell into it.'' When he paused, Tyra thought about where she was mentally and recognized what he was describing. ''The Undertaker also explained that there is something called the cycle of grief. You go through stages of grief, and if you are lucky, eventually come out the other end. The last stage is called the acceptance stage. You stop all the blaming and come to terms with what's happened. Of course, you're still sad, but it gets easier.''

  ''It's very kind of you to tell me this. I had no idea. I was afraid I would have this level of pain for the rest of my life.'' Tyra looked at her hands. Her nails used to be so manicured, she thought.

  ''When I employed you, Tyra, I saw something in you. You are one of life's good people. I can see you care about people. When you talk to clients, you are patient, and most importantly, you listen to them. Did you know I have no relatives?''

  Tyra shook her head.

  ''No.''

  ''Well, I don't. Not one, and no friends. There's only my wife and me.'' He looked at her, and wondered what he was about to say, would do to her. ''I am going to leave the business to you.'' He stared at her, not wanting to miss her reaction.

  ''Pardon?' Tyra said. She wasn't really in the mood for jokes.

  ''I am going to leave the business to you,'' he repeated.

  What the hell is he playing at? This isn't funny, doesn't he know I've just buried my parents. She went to stand up, but he put up his hand and stopped her.

  ''For the last time, Tyra. You will inherit this business.'' Someone knocked on the door; it was his wife. ''Tell her Eliana, she doesn't believe me.''

  ''How are you, Tyra? We are very worried about you?'' she said ignoring her husband's plea for help.

  ''I've been better.'' What are they playing at, surely Jewish people don't give things away like this, she thought?


  ''My husband, as you know, isn't given to pranks. We have decided to leave it to you. Of course, you are young, and you have only just started in the business, but we see you have got what it takes.'' She put her hand on Tyra's shoulder and looked her into her eyes. ''You are intelligent, and you have an enormous appetite for the business. We have never seen anyone with your enthusiasm. We are both sixty next year and all we have done with our lives is sit in this store.'' She looked at her husband and gave him an assertive nod. ''In five years time, we will retire and travel. You will take over as manager, and when we die, it will all be yours. Take the time between now and then to learn all you can about the business.''

  ''Are you okay to come back to work?'' Radley asked. Tyra looked at him and burst into tears. It was a gesture so great that her emotions overflowed.

  Eliana sat on the chair arm and put her arm around her. ''You have been through a lot, but you have us, and we will help you all we can.''

  *****

  Tyra started up Google and typed in: 'The Hope Diamond' She read: Value $350 million dollars, 45 karats, 9.1 grams. ''Three hundred and fifty million dollars,'' she whispered under her breath.

  She and Radley had agreed that she would work in the shop four days a week and spend the other two days shadowing him. He' made a list of things he had to teach her. He hadn't realized how long the list would prove to be. One thing he couldn't teach her was diamond cutting. While he was an expert at grading and valuing gems, he'd never enjoyed using tools. Tyra had told him that she'd go to college in her own time and learn.

  ''How do you like your desk?'' Radley asked as he poked his head into her new office. Tyra wondered if the room had been intended as a broom cupboard when the place was built, but she didn't want to complain. She was grateful it had a window and more than grateful that the Samuels had seen so much potential in her.

  ''Lovely thanks. I was just looking up information on the Hope Diamond. It really is quite spectacular.''