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“Oh,” she said, turning around to face them. “Once the storm clears and I have cell reception again, I’ll be calling Peter Walkman to have new bodyguards assigned to me.”
She didn’t get to take two more steps before she was swung up into the air, her green lunch pried from her hands, and her butt lowered onto a chair.
“First of all, we don’t work for Walkman. We’re here in our own capacity. Secondly, when we say sit so that you can eat, that’s what we mean. Now eat, or else it’ll be a repeat of the leather bench all over again, and as much as we want to see you naked and taste that pussy of yours, your ass won’t handle it twice in a row. Understood?” Emerson said as he filled her plate with the most hearty-looking stew she had ever seen before.
Austin placed a warm dinner roll in her hand, and Darien poured her a glass of wine. They then stood around watching her, waiting for her to eat, and she knew they were going to stand there until the snow melted if she didn’t force herself to eat.
“Did anyone ever tell you three how insufferable you all are?”
“Not the way you do, pretty lady,” Darien said, smiling seductively at her.
She rolled her eyes, took a bite out of the roll, and took a spoonful of the stew.
Her body went into shock at the taste of carbs and potatoes, but suddenly, she couldn’t feed herself fast enough. Gosh, she must really be falling apart if she was emotionally eating. Except that the emotion sailing through her was one of contentment as they sat around her and started to eat themselves.
She hadn’t eaten that much food in so long, that she couldn’t remember when the last time was. But that wasn’t all; Austin apparently could make an apple pie that made her taste buds sing.
Fine. This was the last day she was ever going to eat that much food.
Except it wasn’t.
For the next two days, they fell into a strange rhythm. She avoided them completely and stayed in her room. When it was meal time, they took turns coming to her room, scooping her up, and carrying her to the table.
From the well-stocked pantry, Emerson and Austin were able to whip up the most mouth-watering food, and she ate everything. Not that she had a choice, and her protests that she was going to get fat fell on deaf ears.
She didn’t realize it, but mealtimes became her favorite part of the day. She listened to their conversations without participating, and she liked it that way. Hearing their voices and their deep, husky, rough tones, both comforted her, and created a well of arousal in her.
But at some point, she felt she needed to say something about why they were there, protecting her.
“I didn’t love him,” she said abruptly at the table. “Desmond Morton. The man I married. He caught me when I was broken and vulnerable. My dad had just died. And Morton had … still has something that belongs to me, and he promised me he would give it back to me. He lied. He also didn’t touch me. Not once.” Why was she telling them this? Why were their jaws clenched so tightly? But she couldn’t stop.
“I told him I would only sleep with him after our wedding, and that was when he was supposed to give me back my possession. I drew up a contract for that. But, he got arrested on the night of my wedding and has been in jail for the last three years since then. He kept telling me I had to wait for him, but I knew he was just playing me. I made peace with myself that he was never going to give me back what belonged to me. The divorce was finalized a week ago, and suddenly, he was somehow released from prison. But, I guess you knew all that.”
“He won’t be coming anywhere near you, not without us being around, Adrienne.”
She didn’t know what to say to that, except that her heart seemed to soar and burst, and she had no idea what it meant.
That feeling of contentment, ever-present, increased in intensity again. But it bothered her now. They couldn’t protect her forever. She couldn’t be around them forever without losing every part of her soul to them.
Dear god, what was wrong with her?
It had to stop. They had to leave.
The storm had subsided, and she knew it was clearing up fast when her cell service returned. She called Miriam immediately to let her know she was okay and that she had no idea when she was returning to the city, if ever.
Now, all she had to do was get rid of the three men who had already turned her world upside down.
“Boys,” she said, not caring that they found it amusing or that they threatened to show her they were not boy-sized.
“How about a game of poker?” she said, tossing a pack of cards onto the table. “I win; you have to do whatever I say. No questions asked.”
“And if one of us wins?”
“Same thing. You get to ask me to do anything you want,” she said confidently. Adrienne had learned to play poker from her father and had never lost, not once. He did, though, the night before his heart gave in, and he died on the street getting to his car.
“Then let’s play strip poker,” Darien said. They turned their gazes on her expectantly.
As if she were going to say no.
