ROMANCE: THREESOME : Billionaire Brothers' Party (MFM Menage Romance) (New Adult Contemporary Threesome Short Stories)

by Donovan, Astrid Lee

  Taking no more time to get a closer look at the startled, woebegone passengers, Cybele directed Peter to halt their carriage at the side of the road; jumping from its back portal to race full on in the direction of the raging stallion.

  Ignoring the shocked, loudly voiced pleas of the people around her, a determined Cybele advanced forward until she stood stock still before the horse; shushing and cooing in a delicate tone as she thrust her hand forward.

  Visibly calming beneath the effects of her tender, unobtrusive presence, the stallion stilled and even whinnied in contentment as she stroked his ivory coat; finally shifting his head to nestle her neck as she whispered her approval of his improved behavior.

  Once assured of the restored peace that suffused the air around her, Cybele cast a cautious gaze in the direction of the carriage; relieved to see that Peter had joined the vehicle’s driver—a slight, balding man in his early 60--in repairing the loosened wheel.

  “Top job, gentlemen!” she praised them, saluting the two gentlemen with her free hand as she continued to stroke and pet the newly sanguine, always equine beast beside her.

  “And may we say the same of you, Miss.”

  Now Cybele jumped like a skittish colt as her own senses were soothed, and by the sound of a deep, melodic voice distinctly masculine in tone.

  Turning toward the source of this most delightful sound, Cybele almost jumped again as she beheld the two most beautiful men she’d ever seen.

  Nearly identical in features, the two gentlemen both boasted flawless sculpted faces that boasted bronzed skin, carved cheekbones, full, sumptuous lips, and tall, muscular frames bedecked today in dinner suits of ebony silk; accented as they were by sleek white silk satin shirts and gold cravats that sparkled in the sun above them.

  “Odd apparel choices for this time of day,” Cybele mused in silence. “Still and all, I suppose if I looked that grand in any particular ensemble, I too would wear it all the time, both day and evening!”

  Returning her admiring gaze to the faces of the gentlemen before her, she noticed at last the few similarities that seemed to differentiate them. Indeed, while the man on the left boasted eyes as bright and azure as the sun above and hair the greatest gold, the gent on the right bore hairs and eyes the hue of blackest midnight.

  Both boasted dazzling, white-toothed smiles as they traipsed the emerald-hued grasses before them to come just a little closer to her.

  “Thank you so much, Miss,” the dark-haired gentleman nodded in her direction, offering her a sturdy, gentlemanly hand as he continued, “Please allow me to introduce myself. I’m Lord Phillip Barrington.”

  Cybele blushed as the thusly called Lord Phillip bowed low over her hand; his wide, dark gaze holding hers as he pressed his full, moist lips soft against her skin--this simple, gentle gesture sending an unbidden chill coursing up the length of her spine.

  She was just recovering from this odd thrill when the fair-haired gentleman claimed her free hand; ensnaring her with his own jewel blue gaze as he, too, delivered a lingering kiss that amazed her with its subtle charm.

  “And I am Lord Barnaby Barrington. My brother and I present ourselves to you on behalf of the London Barringtons.”

  Cybele nodded.

  “Yes, well, you present very well I must say,” she greeted with a grin, adding as she curtsied before them, “I am Lady Cybele Carrington, of the Birmingham Carringtons.”

  Phillip nodded.

  “It’s a pleasure, Miss,” he bowed low before her in yet another charming, courtly gesture. “And would it be so disrespectful if we were to call you by the name of Cybele the Brave?”

  “Indeed!” his brother agreed, duplicating his brother’s bow with a single smooth flourish. “My entire family and our staff are quite frightened of that insane horse—but you approached and quieted him as though he was an innocent polo pony. And, in doing so, you allowed our driver to approach the carriage and repair its broken wheel—and even lent us the services of your own driver to assist him.”

  Phillip nodded.

  “Madame, we are in your debt,” he agreed, adding in smooth, flirtatious tones, “How may we ever repay you?”

  Cybele shrugged.

  “Ah, believe me Gents. You well repaid me just seconds ago, when you deemed me Cybele the Brave,” she told them, adding as she squared her shoulders and stood full erect to her full 5’3” in height. “I almost feel as though I should don a suit of armor, one that won’t clash with my favorite strand of pearls, and brandish a rather long, sharpened sword.”

  She grinned as both the brothers guffawed outright.

  “You are a delight, Miss!” Barnaby praised her, adding as he arched an inquisitive eyebrow in her direction, “So please tell us; how is it that a fine lady such as yourself has such a great knowledge of horses?”

  Cybele pursed her lips.

  “Well for one thing I’ve been riding since I was child. My family owns a 100-acre estate in the Birmingham countryside,” she told them, adding in a thoughtful tone, “And, come to think of it, I’ve also edited my share of equestrian manuals at my family’s publishing house.”

  Phillip gaped.

  “You work?” he marveled, eyes wide in shock.

  “And your family owns a publishing house?” Barnaby gaped, eyes wider in bewilderment.

  “Yes and, well, yes,” Cybele told them with a grin. “We own and operate one of the most successful presses in all of England, and I am now a senior editor at the company.”

  Her grin broadened as the brothers exchanged wide-eyed, open-mouthed expressions that were downright adorable in nature.

  “That’s wonderful, Miss,” Phillip praised her, adding as he lifted his chin and stood at his full, impressive height, “And as it turns out, my brother and I are the twin sons of Nathan Barrington; one of the premiere bankers in all of London.”

  Cybele pursed her lips.

  “I thought that your surname sounded well familiar,” she affirmed with a nod, adding as she arched her eyebrows in a show of keen curiosity, “And what about you gents? Are you bankers now as well?”

  Barnaby shook his head.

  “Well not at the present,” he revealed, shuffling his feet beneath him. “We just graduated university last year, and opted to take a brief respite before joining his bank in just a few months. In the meantime, though, our primary job titles fall beneath the categories of rogues and revelers.”

  “…And we hope to do a great deal of reveling and, um, rogueing this very weekend, as our family’s reserved suite at Magnolia Resort,” Phillip added.

  Cybele blinked.

  “Magnolia Resort?” she asked, her hand flying to the smart, wicker blue-ribboned bonnet that sat atop her thick gold curls. “That is precisely where I am headed today.”

  Phillip gaped.

  “And you plan to travel there with only your driver?” he queried, feathered eyebrows flying upward at this unexpected news. “No chaperone or lady’s maid?”

  Cybele winked.

  “Indeed I am,” she assured him, adding with a downright wolfish grin, “You two are not the only one planning to do some reveling this weekend. And although I am not quite certain as to exactly what reveling constitutes and entails, I am quite certain that I just might find it most enjoyable.”

  The brothers laughed.

  “Cybele the Brave!” They cried in concert, with Barnaby adding as they turned for their repaired carriage, “We must take leave now, Miss, as we plan to be in attendance at Colton’s social later this evening.”

  Cybele nodded.

  “I plan to be there as well,” she told them, adding as she and a grinning Patrick returned to their own ride, “Race you to Magnolia, Gents!”

  Soon sharing the long, winding cobblestone road that would take them to their intended destination, Cybele and the Barrington twins waved, hooted and blew kisses at one another out their open windows; the breezes flying free through their hair as their horse-driven carriages sped onward
into the London countryside.

  Cybele quieted as her carriage turned on to the tree-lined road that lead to Magnolia Resort; an open aired thoroughfare lined on each side with towering, scarlet-leaved magnolias. Suddenly she reveled in the sound of gentle bird song as it flowed free and clear above her; and glancing upward she admired the gold-hued canaries and royal blue songbirds that let loose with this lush, ethereal sound.

  “We’re here, Miss,” Peter said over his shoulder, finally pulling up in front of the resort that seemed like a much beloved second home.

  As Peter retrieved her luggage from the boot of the carriage, Cybele hopped down from the confines of the back seat and stopped stock still in front of the resort; an ebullient structure that shone pearl pink in the rays of the sun above them.

  Immediately she recognized the sloping roof, the broad front porches, the vast bay windows and the glorious stained glass door that fronted this elegant two-story establishment. Today, however, she regarded its beauty in a slightly different light.

  “As enjoyable as it has been for my family and me to stay at this resort, for two or three weeks out of the year,” she mused, stepping onto the front porch with swift, determined steps, “I feel that it might even be more enjoyable to live here someday.’

  This viewpoint was reinforced moments later, as she found herself in the vast entryway that served as the grand lobby of the Magnolia Resort; an area resplendent with silken, floral print settees and straight back chairs of lavender velvet; situated on plush ivory carpeting between walls of gold brocade and beneath a hand painted ceiling that bore an illustrious mural of cherubs in flight across the vast expanse of a gem blue sky. Dew-glistened bouquets of ruby red roses completed this lovely picture, situated as they were in crystalline urns that bordered a stone cast fireplace.

  In her mind, however, the most beautiful facet of this impressive room stood at the side of this blazing fireplace; dressed as he was in a prim white day suit that seemed to merge with his own décor.

  “Lady Cybele!”

  Crossing the room in a few smooth strides, Lord Colton Jones charmed her with a dazzling white-toothed smile and the friendly flash of his wide dark eyes.

  “Colton!” she exclaimed, returning his smile as he took her hand in his and graced her skin with a gentlemanly kiss. “I’m so pleased to be here. It’s bound to be a grand weekend!”

  Colton nodded.

  “Indeed it will, Love, now that you’re here,” he agreed, adding with a teasing wink, “I am so glad that you plan to stay with us for the duration of the weekend. I insist on claiming the first place on your dance card at my social this evening.”

  Cybele shrugged.

  “Well seeing as how my dance card here generally consists of you, my driver, your butler, and whatever gent draws the short straw around the billiards table,” she pursed her lips to comic effect, “I daresay your place is safe.”

  Colton guffawed outright.

  “Oh, don’t be ridiculous, you enchanting woman,” he chided her gentle, adding as a waiting Peter carried her luggage up the steps of a nearby, mahogany bound staircase, “I do insist on at least two dances with you this eve, as well as several croquet games during the weekend. I also call dibs on a place at your side for the occasion of our Sunday picnic.”

  Cybele grinned.

  “Done,” she allowed, feeling her cheeks flush with happiness at the sound of all these delightful ideas. “First, though, I must retire to my suite and prepare for this evening’s social.”

  Colton nodded.

  “That would be best, as the happening begins in just over an hour,” he reminded her, adding as he made a broad gesture in the direction of the staircase, “Your suite awaits you, my lady.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Soon Cybele found herself ensconced in another luxurious room; this one adorned with polished mirrored cherry wood bureaus, plush copper hued carpeting overseen by a feminine rose print chandelier, and a corner set of crystal-paned French doors enshrouded in a pair of fine lace curtains.

  The centerpiece of this exclusive suite took the form of a silk-covered canopied bed that shone in its hue of deep, rich lavender; a heavenly resting place where Cybele planned to lay her head that evening.

  First, though, she greatly looked forward to making her appearance at the social downstairs. And she couldn’t wait to see Colton’s eyes light up as they beheld her in the evening gown she’d brought for the occasion; a dress she now admired as it adorned the curves of her full-figured body.

  A hand woven work of shimmering pink satin lined down the front with a row of pearls that mirrored its pearlesque hue, this gown did much to illuminate her ivory white complexion and her newly upswept golden blonde hair. A newly acquired pair of sparkling diamond earrings completed this desired effect; one that brought a smile to Cybele’s face as she inspected the results in a corner mirror.

  Soon she found herself once again descending the stairs that lead to the resort entryway; a place now filled with laughing guests adorned in their own versions of elegant evening finery. And although she offered greetings and grins to a number of lords and ladies she recognized from previous affairs, her eyes scanned the room for the host of this party; a man who, much to her consternation, was nowhere to be found.

  “Have you seen Lord Colton?” she asked a sharp-dressed lass who loitered alone in the corner of the room.

  The young woman said nothing, just nodded in the direction of a corner room; a space that Cybele immediately identified as the dining room at the Magnolia Resort.

  Offering her thanks, the lady gathered her skirts in her hands and headed in the direction of the specified room; stopping short as she heard some familiar laughter ring forth from its enclosed confines.

  She chuckled in spite of herself as she heard the echoing tones of this deep, masculine laughter; immediately identifying their owners as the twin brothers she had met en route to the resort this afternoon.

  “I arrived at the resort well before they did, and hoped that I would see them again,” she mused, placing her hand on the domed glass doorknob that accessed the Magnolia dining room.

  She froze seconds later as she heard her own name pass the lips of Phillip Barrington; chuckling in spite of herself as she heard him say, “I can’t tell you, Lord Colton, just how delighted we were to meet Lady Cybele Carrington en route to Magnolia this afternoon. I’m sure you know her; she is an editor at her family’s publishing house in Birmingham. She’s so bright and charming too—and she certainly has a way with horses!”

  Cybele’s beam broadened as she heard Lord Colton chuckle in concurrence.

  “Cybele is indeed bright and charming,” he agreed. “I’ve known her family for years. In an odd sort of way I suppose that Cybele and I have grown up together.”

  “Fortunate man,” Barnaby chimed in, “Phillip and I would love to get to know her better this weekend. And as we were just discussing before tonight’s social, we are amazed that this sweet, enchanting woman has yet to claim a husband.”

  Colton cleared her throat.

  “Does it amaze you? Really?” he lowered his voice, but only slightly. “I mean, she is not precisely the most shapely or comely woman—and, although kind, she seems like something of a know it all. And really, what lord in his right noggin would want a working wife? Unless, of course, she happens to be working at preparing your meals and birthing your babes.”

  Cybele had heard enough. Her cheeks flushing red hot as she turned the knob in her hand, she charged forthright into the room before her; coming to stand stock still before the trio of males who stared agape at her arrival.

  “Lord Colton.” She addressed her host in a hard, harsh tone, planting her hands square on the surface of her satin clad hips. “How dare you discuss me behind my admittedly wide but very sharp dressed back—and in such a rude, disrespectful manner? Do you know nothing of being a gentleman?”

  Colton stared at her wordless a moment; shaking his head from side to
side as a wave of raw color flushed his carved cheeks.

  “Please my lady, I beg your forgiveness. I spoke out of turn,” he mumbled, clutching his hands tight before him as he added, “I had no idea that you were in the vicinity….”

  “Well that much is obvious,” Cybele snapped, adding as she inclined her head in his direction, “Could it be, Lord Colton, that you focus so very much on a lady’s looks because your eyes are just a bit sharper than your brain? And could this be the same reason that you may not favor a woman who is brighter and more industrious than you happen to be?”

  She lifted her chin as the twins met her words with a shout of hysterical laughter; applauding her words as Colton hunched his shoulders and shuffled his feet beneath him.

  “My deepest apologies,” he mumbled, adding as he forced a weak, wane smile, “If it would in any compensate for the distress I’ve caused you, I very much would like to offer you a free evening’s stay this weekend at Magnolia Resort.”

  Cybele shook her head.

  “Well feel free, if you wish, to give me a complimentary stay this evening,” she allowed, adding as she folded her arms before her, “ Beyond that, however, I fear that I will be parting for home first thing tomorrow morning. And in the future, Lord Jones, you may not count on my family or me for our continued patronage at your resort.”

  Without awaiting a response, Cybele turned in a swish of her pearl pink skirts and abandoned her befuddled host, the man who she’d never regard with quite the same eyes.

  Making her way in a haze of anger through a throng of talking, laughing partygoers, she suddenly and unreasonably willed them to shut their bloody mouths.

  Clearing the throng with a haughty sniff, Cybele plopped down on a rose print settee that bordered the entryway of Magnolia Resort; sighing relieved moments later, as the ringing of a dinner bell cleared the room of the guests that were beginning to stare and point at her.

  As they headed into the resort dining room to enjoy one of its signature dinners, she contemplated the events of the last few moments; a grand total of five minutes that had dashed the hopes she’d harbored for countless years.