“Is that all right with you, Madeline?” The corners of Bea’s full magenta lips dipped down as if in worry or concern.
“I, um…I…”
“It’s not that they’re kinksters or anything,” Bea said in a reassuring tone. “That’s just the way Male Order is. Our five families—us, the Kingstons, the Caldwells, the Bartletts, and the Abrams—founded this town over two hundred years ago, and since there weren’t enough women, brothers just decided to share a wife. It’s worked out really well, I swear. The divorce rate here is pretty near zero, and the women are constantly walking around with huge, satisfied smiles on their faces.”
“So they’ve always shared? Dalton and Garrett?”
Bea nodded. “Of course. That’s what we do here. That’s just how it is.”
“I just—it’s just that it’s all so new. I mean, I suspected something…they were so forward together, you know? But I’ve never shared or been shared, really. I mean, two men? I just—” Bea’s slender hand on hers stopped her babbling and cooled the anxiety flush that had already begun to take over her body.
“Shh, honey. You sound like you need another drink.” Bea promptly refilled the half-full bellini Madeline had resting in front of her. “You’re getting all worked up over nothing. This is the last place to fret over being with two men. It’d be like worrying about your tiara being too big and sparkly at a Miss Male Order pageant. It’s just not done.”
Madeline thought that statement over and realized Bea was right. She looked at the groups of people surrounding her, the happy women surrounded by at least two men each. Regardless of whether it was a lifestyle she could pursue, she certainly wouldn’t be judged for it here.
She took a sip of her bellini, and as the peach-sweetened champagne warmed her fingers and toes, loosened her muscles and tongue, she realized the value of alcohol as a social lubricant. “You know, I don’t think I mentioned this before, but I really like your outfit.”
Bea positively beamed at her. “Thanks! I knew I liked you.” She ran her hand across the neckline and gazed up almost wistfully. “My mother always told me, a true lady can never go wrong with Dior.”
Madeline nodded as if her mother had given her the exact same advice and buried her blank expression in her glass, inhaling the sweet perfume of perfect summer peaches mingling with the unique fruity richness of champagne.
She glanced around the room and looked at all the perfectly polished and elegant people surrounding her. The men somehow managed to be both rugged and refined. She took pride in knowing that only the men in Texas could pull that off.
She finally let her gaze land on Dalton and Garrett, standing at the buffet table, and the hand holding her bellini started shaking. She put it down before anything spilled over the rim, and she took a deep breath. She had never reacted this way to any man in her life. Sure, there had been men she was attracted to and acted out that attraction with, but nothing ever felt this right, this intensely magnetic or passionate. And yet, she felt as though she could stay in place longer than five minutes with them. She was always jumping from one project to the next—volunteering, working, trying to earn a living—but with Dalton and Garrett, time stood still and waited for her. Or maybe she just lost track of it. Either way, there was a sense of peace and calm, like something inside her could finally stop and take a breath.
Dalton was speaking to Mr. Abrams as Garrett chatted with Mrs. Bartlett. She tuned everything around her out except for Dalton’s hypnotic voice. It ran like the blackest silk over her senses, luring her to drop her defenses so he could cast his spell over her. There was no need. She was already there, could already feel the pull from his fathomless eyes every time she was near him. She admired the authority with which he commanded a room. If she did not know any better, she would call him an overly proud alpha male, and maybe he was, but there was definitely more to him than that. She always knew the moment Dalton entered the room. Everyone did.
Dalton’s steady gaze landed on her, heating her whole body and making even her fingertips tingle. Overwhelmed, Madeline shifted her attention back to Garrett, who continued charming the older woman as he seemed to be able to do with all women.
Garrett had already charmed Madeline’s panties off. She watched him as he talked, studying his movements and gestures, his proudly mocking face, his devilish grin, the sensual set of his jaw. Oh, and his lips. They were so soft and full, yet were so commanding when against hers. She knew his taste and his scent, knew the way he could use his mouth to send bursts of pleasure rocketing through her body. Garrett’s gray eyes twinkled at her in that way of his that promised there would be pleasure to pay when he got his hands on her. She shivered and turned away before her panties got any wetter, as if that could somehow turn off the surge of emotions building inside her.
The things they did to her. She couldn’t help but fan herself with her hand.
“You all right? You’re looking a little…overheated. Anything else bothering you?” Bea asked. “What’s the matter? Booze got your tongue?”
Was she becoming drunk already? There couldn’t have been that much champagne in the skinny glass.
“Sorry. I think I’m just a little nervous about meeting everybody. And having to ask for money is so awkward.” She looked around at all the beautiful, glamorous people surrounding her. Coming here to ask them for funding suddenly made her feel more like a beggar than a do-gooder.
“Why?” Bea shrugged a skinny shoulder and sipped at her bellini. “You need money—for a wonderful cause to boot—and they have it to give. I don’t see what the problem is.”
“I guess it’s just that…” Madeline sucked in a deep breath, working to will away the queasy sensation creeping around her stomach.
“If you’re feeling intimidated, don’t. You’re in Male Order, sweet cheeks. I admit, we’re all pretty fabu. Nothing is ordinary here, and now that you’re here, neither are you.”
“But—”
“Bea, stop harassing her.” Dalton’s deep, rich voice sizzled down Madeline’s nerve endings and buzzed through her body, making her clit thrum.
“I am not harassing anyone, Dalton. I’m simply letting her know who everyone is here.” Bea narrowed her eyes at him. “If anyone is harassing anyone else, it’s you. Butt out. You’re polluting my air with your hostility.”
Dalton just looked puzzled for a moment, then looked at Madeline pointedly as he set down a plate with two slices of prime rib with a mound of horseradish resting in pink-tinged jus. “I brought you some food. Garrett should be right over after he’s done flirting with Mrs. Bartlett. Let me know if my crazy little sister is pestering you.”
Bea sent him an overly sweet smile. “I resent that comment.”
“And I resent you hogging her when she’s supposed to be networking, not serving as your drinking buddy while you gossip.” Dalton sat down beside Madeline and sliced the meat as he spoke. “You’ve had her all to yourself for long enough, Bea.”
“I’m just acquainting her first and getting her acclimated.” Bea lifted a very hostile-looking brow and settled back in her chair. “Where’s my food?”
“I’m sorry, I brought this for Maddie.” Garrett, holding a plate of roast chicken with mixed vegetables on the side, chuckled as he sat down next to his sister. “Didn’t you say you were worried about getting fat?”
Bea’s jaw dropped before she raised her hand, ready to slap her brother in the face. Garrett flinched even as he laughed at her. Bea grumbled and crossed her arms over her ample chest. “You think you’re so funny. You’d just love for me to start a scene, wouldn’t you?”
“And satisfy your need to be the center of attention?” Garrett teased. “Never.”
Madeline felt her side warm and tingle as Dalton leaned in closely. “Don’t worry, Madeline. They don’t fight all the time. They take a break for about eight hours while they get their beauty rest.”
Madeline couldn’t keep from laughing no matter how rude she thought i
t was. But despite their constant bickering, she could tell there was a lot of love between them, and she suddenly missed her own sister.
“Maddie, aren’t you hungry? We brought this for you, you know.” Garrett pushed the plate closer to her, but a wave of queasiness returned, and food was the last thing she wanted.
“No, I’m fine. I ate a big breakfast this morning,” she lied.
“Well, then why are we wasting our time sitting around?” Garrett wiped the corners of his mouth with his napkin as he stood. “We’ve got some networking to do.”
“Very well, then.” Dalton also rose and pushed his chair in.
“Are you ready?” Garrett asked. Both brothers stood at her side, clearly waiting for Madeline to stand so they could escort her. Their huge shoulders and chests formed a great wall around her, so large that she had to lean back to see anything behind them. They were so noble, so gallant and handsome, so seductive and tempting.
“Yes,” she whispered, and she had a feeling she was saying yes to more than allowing them to introduce her to their friends.
“Hey! You promised me food and didn’t follow through, so as far as I’m concerned, you don’t get to take her yet,” Bea complained, standing and pushing her brothers out of the way. “I have a few people I want to introduce her to first.” Bea handed Madeline another full glass of bellini. “Take this.”
With that, Bea snatched her up and pulled her out of her seat. She whispered into Madeline’s ear. “Those boys always get all the fun. Plus, this’ll make them jealous, which I know will pay off for you down the road.” Bea grinned devilishly and winked.
Madeline followed Bea around the ballroom, past the buffet table, and let the little woman introduce her to the well-to-do people there. Even though they were all friendly, Madeline could not help but feel out of place.
They walked all the way to the other side of the room. Bea clearly wanted to get as much space between them and her brothers as possible. Although she hated being so far from Dalton and Garrett, she had to admit it was fun running around almost clandestinely with Bea.
“Now, I’m about to introduce you to Randolph and Geoffrey Kingston. They’re a hoot. I would introduce you to their sons, but one of the brothers is in the Amazon right now and the other one is at some sort of conference. Lenore and Andrea are quite the mother-daughter duo, but I don’t see them anywhere.” Bea gestured with her gaze toward a man who looked like he was in his sixties and who, to Madeline’s enjoyment, looked like an older version of Roger Moore as James Bond. “There’s Randolph. The family runs Kingston Pharmaceuticals, you know.”
“Really? That company is as big as Bristol-Meyers Squibb!” Madeline suddenly felt as if she were wearing ankle weights, but she shook it off. Surely, Bea was not dragging her to talk to that man.
“Oh, come on, Madeline. Stop being so nervous. Here, he’s just Randolph.” Bea reached for Madeline’s arm and dragged her. “He’s a nice man. Great sense of humor. He smokes like a chimney and throws back hard liquor all the time, but whenever anyone complains or nags about it, he always shrugs it off and says the scientists at his company will come up with something to save him.”
“Right.” Madeline’s heart rate sped up as a cold sweat began prickling on her skin. It was surely the beginnings of a panic attack. She decided she was not equipped to deal with all of this shuffling back and forth between new people. Thinking perhaps more alcohol would help calm her nerves, she was raising her champagne flute to her lips when a perfectly manicured hand seized it out of her grip and threw the contents of the half-full glass in Madeline’s face. Madeline froze in horror as she felt the drink seeping into her clothes and sloshing down her chest and between her breasts.
“Oh, my God.” Madeline tried to blink the stinging out of her eyes while she bent at the waist and blotted at her chest with the hem of her dress. Among the rush of voices that swirled over her head, the only thing she could focus on was the pair of impossibly blue shoes that stepped into her line of vision. Madeline glanced up into the face of a woman whose fat lips looked like they were about to burst.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” the woman said, “but since my family owns the orchard that produced the juice for that bellini, I reserve the right to refuse you service.”
Madeline’s body started shaking with embarrassment and fury, which only spiked when a sticky piece of hair fastened itself to her cheek.
Bea snatched the glass from the other woman’s hand and brandished it like a dagger in her face. “Oh, please, Darla. You aren’t a close enough relation to the Caldwells to pull that crap. I swear, you’ve just gone and pissed me the fuck off. You don’t deserve to be here, so get your second-cousin-by-marriage ass out of here before I do something I won’t regret.”
Madeline bent down to try to clean the mess up somehow since her dress started dripping and little puddles started forming around her shoes. But really, all the excitement had started to make her feel dizzy, and it was comforting to be low to the ground for a while. She wished her men were with her, but they were probably too far away to notice. It was likely for the best. She didn’t need them making an even bigger scene.
“Madeline, what are you doing?” Bea snapped.
“Well, I was cleaning—”
“No! No, no, no.” Bea’s hand wrapped around her upper arm and yanked her up and to Bea’s side. The movement made blood rush from her head and black dots spotted her vision. If Bea hadn’t had such a firm grip on her, she probably would’ve fallen down. “This crazy ass here needs to get you a brand-freaking-new dress. And hopefully you’ll die on the way to the Galleria, Darla. What the hell is your problem!”
Darla pointed an accusatory finger in Madeline’s direction. “She’s here with Garrett and Dalton. What the hell is she doing here with them, Bea?”
Bea stepped toward the other woman, any signs of teetering over in her ridiculous heels now completely gone. “My brothers get to date whomever they want whenever they want. Listen, Darla, it wasn’t going to work out. It just wasn’t there.”
“You didn’t give me enough time! I always get the guy, Bea. Always. I just needed a few extra days, and now I see this little girl in her department store dress with them? I don’t think so.”
Madeline leaned against a marble pillar to steady herself. She looked down at her dress, then at Darla’s and decided that, though Darla’s might cost a few grand, her own was much classier than that scrap of whatever the hell kind of fabric it was. How dare that woman come in here and ruin a perfectly good luncheon with this asinine scene?
Madeline straightened to her full height and met the artificially smooth, almost expressionless face of the tall, willowy yet full-breasted blonde woman. Her body was like two balloons tacked to a board. Her dress was perfectly tailored and fit her lithe dancer’s body with the perfection of a silk glove. A very tiny and revealing glove. Madeline fought down the angry rush of adrenaline that made her fingertips twitch and met Darla’s eyes.
“How dare you?” the blonde seethed.
“I’m sorry, but you’re the one who attacked me, so how dare you?” Madeline shot back. Ha! Take that! She had never been in an argument like this before, and she thought she was holding her own pretty well. Bea standing beside her didn’t hurt, either.
Darla stepped closer, and the smell of her perfume and hair products burned Madeline’s nose. Personally, she believed less was more where perfume was concerned.
“You better watch your back, missy, because I always win. You might have stolen Garrett from me, but they’ll forget about you. Trust me. It happens with all of them.”
“Okay,” Madeline said as if she were speaking to a hostile student of hers, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Darla took a menacing step toward her, and Madeline took a half step back before she realized she needed to hold her ground or the deranged socialite might use it as an opportunity to beat her to death with her blue satin Manolos.
“What the hell
is going on here?” Dalton’s angry voice only emphasized its deep baritone.
Even though Darla still towered menacingly over Madeline with her model’s height, Madeline’s body still reacted to Dalton’s voice, and her heart sped up when she heard Dalton’s and Garrett’s clipped steps quickly approaching them.
Bea jumped right in. “Darla here thinks she has some sort of claim on you, and to prove it, she threw Madeline’s drink in her face.”
“She what!” Dalton thundered.
“She has no right to be here, and she has no right to step in and flaunt her fling with the two of you in my face!” Darla’s heavy bosom heaved.
Madeline wondered if it was hard for her to breathe. They were that big on her skinny body.
Garrett stepped between a seething Dalton and the incensed socialite. “Aw, come on now, Darla,” Garrett positively crooned with a charming smile on his face, “we had a great time, and you’re a wonderful woman, but it’s just not a good fit. I don’t think I’m the man for you.”
“Oh, but the two of you are,” Darla said, her gaze snapping between Dalton and Garrett as they stopped in front of Bea and Madeline.
There it was again. The number two just would not stop taunting her today. Madeline rolled her eyes at the gentle way Garrett handled Darla. He had done this before.
“You know, that might have been the truth had things worked out, but we’ve found someone else,” Garrett said as he smoothly skimmed his hand over Madeline’s belly, then used it to push her behind him while he and Dalton faced off with Darla. Bea just stepped behind them, too, crossed her arms over her chest, and sent Madeline a look that said everything was handled now.
Mitchell, Ava and Holiday, Sydney - A Bride for Two Tycoons [Male Order, Texas 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 12
