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CHAPTER ONE
EMILY WOODHOUSE
I was so nervous I could barely catch my breath. My heart pounded so frantically I was afraid it would jump right out of my chest. My fingers tingled and sweat dotted my brow. Trying to take a deep breath, I lifted my hand and wrapped on the door.
Would they even be within? It was mealtime, so perhaps they were eating with the others. I should be hungry, but I hadn’t been able to eat a bite all day. It had taken me that long to build up enough nerve to come. I’d almost turned the horse around several times. I glanced behind me as I waited; the vast expanse of the Bridgewater Ranch was a stunning view. In the distance I could see another house and knew that the stables, barn and other structures were over the rise. Like all the houses on the property, they were set well apart for privacy. There was no shortage of open land on the Bridgewater Ranch.
I heard footsteps and I spun back around as the door opened. I clenched my fingers.
“Mrs. Woodhouse.” Mr. Tyler wiped his hands on a dishtowel and the way his pale brow winged up, it was clear that my appearance was not expected. “You are out early. We were just finishing our lunch. Won’t you please come—”
“I agree,” I blurted. I couldn’t hold back any longer, afraid if I did, I’d either change my mind or lose my nerve. It was petrifying, their offer of marriage, but I didn’t have much of a choice and Mr. Tyler and Mr. Xander would do. Taking in how handsome the man before me was, his fair hair tousled, his blue eyes aimed solely on me, his full lips quirking up into a half smile, he would do quite nicely. If only I weren’t so scared about the proposition.
“You agree?”
I closed my eyes for a moment, took a deep breath. I’d done it, I’d started the conversation, so the tightness in my chest eased, a bit. It didn’t mean he wouldn’t reject me, or that Mr. Xander would agree. A full day had passed. Perhaps in that time they’d changed their minds. What would I do then? “To your offer. To being fucked by both of you. I agree.”
He looked at me so intently I had to glance away. It was the first time I’d ever said the word fuck and it felt strange. It was the word they’d used the day before. Not intercourse, not sexual congress. Fucking. I could feel my cheeks heat and I wondered if I’d ever be comfortable with saying it.
“I believe Xander would like to hear this. Won’t you come in?”
I nodded and as he stepped back, I passed him into the entryway. His clean scent filled the air and I breathed it in. He didn’t smell like drink as Frank had.
“Xander!” he called.
There was footfall overhead, then down the stairs. The house was very large, especially when these two men took up the space, but it wasn’t theirs. It was Kane and Ian’s home, along with their wife Emma. They’d gone to Billings for several days, leaving their little girl with Andrew, Robert and Ann. Mr. Tyler and Mr. Xander were staying in the vacant home during their visit to Mr. Tyler’s cousin, Olivia. I was thankful that they weren’t guests in her house, for I would not have the privacy I did now. This conversation was hard enough without witnesses.
I looked up and watched as Mr. Xander’s long, lean body appeared one step at a time. I was able to take in the narrow waist, the long fingers, the muscular chest even before I saw his face. It was hard to look away from his chiseled jaw, the dark beard and strong brow. The few times I’d seen the man, he’d been watching me so intently it had been difficult not to squirm.
“Mrs. Woodhouse,” he murmured, coming to stand before me, a little too close.
I refused to take a step back, to let the man know I was a little fearful around him. It wasn’t because I was truly afraid of the man; he wouldn’t hurt me. I worried about his effect on me. The squirming I’d done was partially because of attraction on my part. I was not used to that and it was… scary.
“Mrs. Woodhouse has said yes,” Mr. Tyler told him.
Instead of his brows going up in surprise, Mr. Xander’s eyes narrowed, as if he’d found his prey caught in his trap and there was nowhere to go.
“Really? Is this true, Mrs. Woodhouse?” His voice was deep, dark and promised equally dark things. This wasn’t a gentle man; he was barely tamed.
I tilted my head back to look at him, for he was almost a head taller than me. I licked my lips and cleared my throat, and the words stuck there. “I agree to marry you.”
“Both of us?”
I’d known what being a Bridgewater bride entailed for about half a year when Olivia had first told me. At first, I’d been stunned, for at that time I’d had no interest in the one husband I did have, and saw no need for two. But now…
“Both of you.”
He stepped closer, and I retreated. Again. My back bumped against the closed door and he leaned in, his forearm resting beside my head. His warm breath fanned my neck. He smelled of peppermint and wood smoke. His body didn’t touch me in any way and I knew if I took a deep breath, the tips of my breasts would brush against his chest.
“You understand what that will entail?” he murmured. “Whatever your husband did or didn’t do with you is buried with him. We have our own expectations of a wife and we shared those with you yesterday.”
I glanced at Mr. Tyler, yet felt surrounded by Mr. Xander. They were too big, too tall, too… male. I remembered all too well what those expectations were. When they’d escorted me to my ranch the day before offering marriage, I hadn’t turned them down, nor had I accepted. They knew the dire straits I was in—at least some of it—and had been honorable to offer for me. What they didn’t know was that Frank’s gambling debts went beyond what he owed the bank. He also owed a man named Ralph and he’d come calling, too. He wasn’t honorable at all. In fact, the amount of money Frank owed him was enough to have me working on my back for months to pay it back. Ralph didn’t believe a debt was repaid with my husband’s death.
??What did you tell me just now?” Mr. Tyler asked, tearing me from my thoughts of Ralph.
I licked my lips again and tried to calm my racing heart, but Mr. Xander was very distracting.
“I will marry you… and, and… and fuck you both.”
Mr. Xander took my hat from my head. I vaguely heard it thump on the floor, but he stroked his knuckles over my cheek. His dark eyes pierced mine and I couldn’t look away. “You’re not a virgin,” he said. It wasn’t a question.
I shook my head. I hadn’t been one for quite some time. I wasn’t a naive virgin for them to deflower.
“Then we don’t have to worry about you being a reluctant bride, do we?”
I wasn’t so sure about that. I was very reluctant, but I also had never been as eager for a man’s touch before as I was right now. I wanted more than just the tips of his knuckles on my cheek. But two men? These men? I shook my head again.
