Their Stolen Bride (Bridgewater Menage Series Book 7)

by Vanessa Vale

  “Miss Millard does not wish to court the man approaching with her father. She asked that I assist her by playing her intended, but it won’t work.”

  Mr. Sullivan searched the crowd and while I couldn’t see, I knew the moment he found them. “Benson. Shit, woman, you’re being married Reggie Benson?”

  My mouth fell open in surprise and not because of the swearing either. While neither were poor men trying to find a job to survive, they weren’t garbed in the finest fashions like the truly wealthy. They didn’t seem like the type to associate with Mr. Benson, but it was possible I was in error. Who were these men and was I insane to engage in their assistance?

  I cleared my throat and met Mr. Sullivan’s dark eyes. “Yes, my father is very insistent on growing his mining empire. Since Mr. Benson owns the Beauty Belle operation, I’m confident of his intentions.”

  Mr. Sullivan nodded decisively. “Then we should just kill him.”

  Before I could even sputter a reply at the… violent way both of them wished to solve my problem, Mr. Corbin spoke. “I offered that already.”

  Mr. Sullivan grunted. “Parker is right, Miss Millard. An engagement will not deter Benson.”

  So much for my idea. I looked at the ground, dejected. I had no doubt within the month I would be Mrs. Benson. Clearing my throat, I pasted on my best fake smile. I was quite adept at feigning happiness. “Yes, I understand. It was a silly notion. Thank you both for helping me pass the time on the train, gentlemen, but I must—”

  Mr. Sullivan cut me off. “An engagement will not deter the man,” he repeated. “But a marriage will. Not to Parker. On paper, legally, you should be married to me.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “If he is as you say, then I can’t, in good conscience, let you marry him.”

  I flicked a look to Mr. Corbin and he nodded his agreement.

  My shock was obvious in my voice. “Yes, but by you marrying me in his stead?”

  Mr. Sullivan placed his fingertips on my lips and my eyes widened at the bold touch.

  He grinned then, brilliantly and wickedly. “Yes, exactly. Fair warning, I’m not like Benson. I will make demands on you, but I would never harm you. Marry me and I will protect you with my life.”

  If his fingers hadn’t pressed against my lips, my mouth would have fallen open in surprise at his vehemence.

  CHAPTER TWO

  PARKER

  The moment Miss Millard entered the train car in Billings, I knew she was the one. While the porter followed behind her carrying her small bag, she stumbled down the aisle as the train picked up speed. Pitching about, she used her hands on the backs of the seats for balance. I stood immediately, drawing Sully’s eyes from the book in his lap to the woman we would marry.

  The dress she wore was of the finest cut, in a pale green silk with a bright sheen to it that, beneath my fingers, wouldn’t be as soft as the skin on her long neck. I didn’t have to be female to know the latest style or the expense of the materials. Her little hat, angled just so on her head of blond curls, matched perfectly. The gown was completely modest, from the long sleeves to the high collar, but it did nothing to hide her enticing curves.

  For one so petite—she only came up to my shoulder—she had full breasts and wide hips. She was lush and just a bit shy of plump, but that was how I liked my woman. When she rode my cock—and she would—I’d be able to get a good grip on her lush hips. When I spanked her ass—based on her gentle nature it would be more for pleasure than punishment—it would quiver beneath my palm and turn a perfect shade of pink. Her breasts would be a delicious handful and I could only imagine her eyes blurring with passion when I tugged on her hardened nipples.

  Stepping forward, I took the bag from the porter, then pulled a coin for him from my pocket. With a quick nod, he turned on his heel and left the car. Placing her bag beneath the seat, I gestured for her to sit across from us. While the car was not full and she could select her own seat, I removed that option for her. Her good manners dictated she accept the placement. Sully respectfully rose to his feet, ducking his head as he was so tall, and gestured for her to join us. As she settled in, adjusting her long skirts, I glanced at Sully. A slight nod was all I needed to know he was in agreement.

  Within one minute, our lives changed. Inalterably. This fair-haired beauty would be ours. And so we’d talked with her from Billings to Butte. Well, I did. Sully was not one for many words and passed the time by watching her closely. I noticed the slight turn of her lip when she smiled, every freckle across her nose, the dainty swirl of her ears. We spoke of everything from her staid visit with her grandmother for the past month, to books, to politics in the Montana Territory. She was well versed, clearly well educated. While my cock wanted her for her body, I was glad she had a sharp wit and gentle spirit inside such a delectable package.

  It was easy to fantasize how it would be with her as I listened to her soft voice, imagined how it would sound crying out my name as I brought her pleasure, how she’d beg Sully to take her. Harder. Deeper. Faster.

  Fortunately, a surprising herd of elk were visible in the distance. As she watched them, I adjusted my cock, fair near to bursting within the tight confines of my pants. Sully just smirked.

  It was then, once we’d pulled into Butte and I helped her down from the train, that I was pleased that she turned to me. At the time, I hadn’t known why she’d panicked, but I’d already considered her as mine and I would solve all of her problems. Sully, too. When I discovered who she was, that she was a copper heiress with an uncaring father set on using her for a business deal, my protective instincts took over. When I found out she was to marry that asshole, Benson, I was glad that Sully had joined us.

  Benson was ruthless. A callous businessman, he considered money before men. His mine wasn’t safe; collapses occurred with dangerous frequency, knowing one dead man could easily be replaced with two more desperate ones. Copper was pulled out at a pace that made him richer than even those who owned the railroad. Assessing Miss Millard’s father, I had to guess that he might be even richer.

  Men with avaricious business practices used people like pawns, even innocent daughters for marriage alliances. Miss Millard had laughed and warmed to our witty conversation on the train, so I knew she’d become a skittish and fearfully submissive woman if married to Benson. There would be no humor, no caring, no loving. There’d be fucking, surely, but she would not enjoy it, would not feel one bit of desire. Benson had worked his way through two wives and all the whores in Butte. He was infamous for his cruelty—infamous enough that even the innocent Miss Millard knew of it—and only the most jaded and darkly inclined whore could enjoy his needs.

  Miss Millard was a passionate woman, I had no doubt. It would be our pleasure to awaken her every desire. To discover what she liked, what made her pant my name, to scream Sully’s, as we took her. But only a ring on her finger and her desperate need for our protection from Benson guaranteed that. While she expected a temporary arrangement, in her panic she could not see that temporary would not work. An end to an engagement would only delay her father’s plans. A real marriage was the only way to prevent the inevitable.

  A real marriage she would get. Sully, as her husband, would afford her more protection than I would. It was a quick and smart decision, to shift the legal aspects of our union to him. As her husband, he’d protect her from the likes of Benson and her father with just his name alone. With his background, his notoriety, no one would dare impede.

  When he’d warned her that he was not like Benson, that he would make demands on her, she would discover what those kinds of demands were, in time. It involved letting two dominant men control her in the bedroom, and quite a few places outside of it. Yes, Benson would have been a controlling spouse, but he would not be loving. From this moment forward, Miss Millard was the center of our world and she was right where she should be—between us.

  When Sully lifted his finger from her mouth, he leaned in and said, “Smile
, love. You’re not alone any longer.”

  That was correct. She would not be alone again. Would not have to stand up to her father by herself, would not have to associate with the likes of Benson. They couldn’t touch her. Not physically, not emotionally.

  Being married to two husbands was not the societal norm, especially for Butte. On the ranch at Bridgewater, that was not the case. Everyone was married in such a fashion: two—or more—men for every bride.

  “I don’t even know your given name,” she murmured, offering Sully a quick, nervous glance before facing the approaching men. I watched as her hands fiddled with her dress, that she bit her lip, eyes wide with trepidation.

  “Name’s Sully.” He ran a hand down her arm. “Don’t you worry, sweetheart. We’ll take care of you. Always.”

  Taking a deep breath—which made her breasts swell beneath her dress—she rolled her shoulders back and tilted her pert chin as if she were royalty. I could sense her nervousness and fear, but she hid it well. I just had to wonder why she’d had to perfect the skill.

  Her father and Benson approached, their shined shoes loud on the brick. I knew the moment they first saw Miss Millard—shit, we didn’t know her given name—but I was even more aware of when they discerned Sully’s possessive hold on her.

  While her father was short and round, his bespoke suit fit perfectly. His gray hair was thinning and the shiny skin of his scalp was red and freckled from the sun. Loose jowls formed his neck. Along with his hefty weight, he was not a man to deny himself anything. That meant he would not be happy when he learned that Benson would not be marrying his daughter.

  Benson was the opposite of Millard. Tall and thin, he had the gaunt look of a man who didn’t need to lift a finger. His word, his command, brought immediate results. He, too, was dressed immaculately, in a crisp suit as black as his hair and mustache; he appeared to be in mourning.

  “Mary,” Mr. Millard said to his daughter.

  Mary. The tone he imbued in that one word held so much meaning. None of it was pleasure at seeing his daughter after a month’s separation. He did not pull her in for a hug; he did not put a hand on her shoulder for a simple squeeze. He didn’t even smile. Mary, though, took a small step closer to me.

  “Hello, Father. Mr. Benson.” She tilted her head in greeting. “It was very thoughtful of you to meet me at the station, but unnecessary.”

  “I trust your visit with your grandmother was pleasant.”

  From what Mary—I liked it much better than calling her Miss Millard—had said about her visit, the woman was definitely this man’s mother. She sounded like an old bat.

  “Yes, quite.”

  She could lie to her father, but once we were married, she would be put over my knee if she kept the truth of her feelings from us.

  Millard glanced at Sully, then dismissed him readily. I tried to hide a smile, for the man had no idea who Sully was, who he’d just spurned.

  “Then we should be going. Mr. Benson is eager to join us for dinner and will escort you home afterward.”

  Mr. Benson looked at Mary absently, almost clinically, not of a fiancé eager for her return after a month’s separation.

  Mary shook her head, but Sully spoke for her. “That’s not going to happen, Mr. Millard.”

  Both men deigned him with some attention after all. “And who are you to dictate Mary’s actions? To question my authority over her?”

  He offered a small shrug, and I could see he kept his anger at the supercilious man hidden. “I’m her husband, so I believe it is my authority she follows now.”

  Mary tensed at that, but I knew it was the way Millard thought of his daughter, as a minion who had to follow commands without hesitation.

  Millard’s skin turned a bilious shade of red and I worried he’d have apoplexy on the train platform. Benson wasn’t quite so… internal with his emotions.

  If Sully had offered his name, they’d have given a completely different reaction. He didn’t and it was telling how they felt about this turn of events.

  “I don’t know who you think you are, but Mary Millard is my intended.” Benson’s voice carried on the crowded platform and passersby turned to look.

  “Was, Benson. She was your intended. She’s married to me. If you’ll excuse us, please.”

  Sully took a step toward the station’s entrance, keeping Mary close, but the man held up his hand. I didn’t expect it to end that easily.

  “I want proof,” Benson said.

  I looked at Mary, saw the fear there. Was she worried that Sully would change his mind and give her to these two? There wasn’t a chance in hell. To get to her, Benson would have to kill me first, then Sully, because he wouldn’t let harm befall her either.

  Kissing Mary’s temple, Sully murmured, “Tell them, sweetheart.”

  From where I stood behind them, her scent filled my nose, all flowery and bright sunshine. I could only imagine how silky soft her hair was against Sully’s lips. I was eager to be rid these men and get her alone with Sully, my fingers itching to hold her as well.

  “I… I’m married. He’s my husband.” Her chin tipped up another notch.

  Benson offered Mary a quick glance, then ignored her. “That’s not the proof I’m looking for.”

  “Is it the blood on the bed sheet you’re seeking? I promise she’s well and properly mine,” Sully baldly stated.

  In a surprise burst of bravery after the discussion of the bloody proof of her virginity, Mary spoke. “He fucked me. Is that what you wanted to know? The first time, he let me be on top. The second time, he couldn’t hold back and took me from behind.”

  Both Benson and her father were as stunned by her words as I was, for they just blinked at her. Where the hell did she learn to talk like that?

  “Crude,” Benson muttered, as if she were now abhorrent.

  I thought she was now even more intriguing than ever. She knew about fucking, but her very demeanor indicated innocence. What was she, harlot or virgin? I wanted rid of these bastards so Sully and I could find out.

  “I want the marriage certificate,” Benson commanded.

  Sully shrugged negligently. He had the power—without even using his infamous name—and wanted to make it clear that they didn’t scare him. They didn’t scare me either, not in the least, but I didn’t want them to scare Mary any more. If lying for her would do it, it made Sully no less a gentleman.

  “There is none,” Sully told the bastard. “You can check the church register in Billings. First Presbyterian at the corner of Main and Fourth.” Most likely added to irritate the man further, Sully said, “My cock needs relief. You’re keeping me from fucking my bride.”

  Sully dipped his hand about her waist, placing it lower than proper so his little finger brushed over the delectable curve of her ass. It did not go unnoticed.

  The stationmaster blew his whistle and the train began to hiss and chug, the noise of the train cars tugging and pulling each other into motion was too loud to talk over. While neither Benson nor Millard had muscle—or guns—they had money and could hire both. Sully’s life was on the line now. He knew it. I could see it in their harsh glares. They didn’t need to say a thing, to insinuate anything. Before the train was completely away, they’d turned and left. While I wished it was the last I’d see of them, I knew that wasn’t to be the case.

  Sully moved Mary away so we could both look at her. “Are you all right?”

  She tilted her head back and glanced between the two of us, nodded. She took a deep breath, then another. “I appreciate your assistance, but I fear I’ve probably put you in some danger.”

  I laughed. “They can try, sweetheart. They can try. I don’t think we should stay in town though.”

  “Mmm, yes,” Mary commented. “I’m sure we’ll be banned from all hotels, restaurants, even boardinghouses within the hour. My father’s reach is vast.”

  She didn’t seem fearful anymore, or angry. Dejected, perhaps.

  I glanced at Sully
. “We’ll go to Bridgewater where it’s safe. I assume you have no reason to stay in Butte any longer.”

  She looked up at Sully and frowned. “You’ve… you’ve done your job. I’ve gotten both men to leave me alone, and now that they believe we’re… intimate, Mr. Benson won’t want me anymore.”

  Sully laughed then. “I still want you, virgin or not. It’s not your pussy Benson’s after, but your inheritance. For me, it’s definitely the other way around.”

  Her mouth fell open at his crude words. She was definitely a virgin. I’d bet fifty dollars on it.

  “There’s no chance we’re leaving you here in Butte to fend for yourself,” Sully added. “You’ll be married to Benson at first light if he gets his hands on you, and that’s only going to happen if we’re dead. I said I’d help you, that I’d be your husband and I’m following through with it.”

  “That’s right, sweetheart,” I added, running a gentle hand up and down her arm, shifting so she stood between us, right where she belonged. “You’re stuck with us.”

  “At Bridgewater, we’ll be prepared if your father or Benson sends men,” Sully added.

  “Oh God, he’ll kill you to get to me.” Color leached from her face.

  I took hold of her shoulders and stooped so we were eye to eye. “He’ll try, but he won’t succeed. Do you doubt that Sully and I can take care of ourselves, that we can take care of you?”

  She looked over her shoulder at Sully, then back at me. “No.”

  I smiled then. “Good girl.”

  “The sun’s setting and we have no supplies,” Sully commented.

  “Which I doubt we’ll be able to collect. Horses, either,” I added. If Benson and Millard had their way, we’d be banned from every business, livery or even a Chinese laundry by morning. They had their own kind of power.

  “We need a place to stay tonight. Someplace safe. Someplace they’ll never look,” I added, looking to Sully for ideas.