by Em Ashcroft
The Tigers of Texas 9
Her Heart In Their Hands
ER surgeon Trinity Forrest is having a secret affair with shape-shifting tiger Nathan Goldclaw, the head of the cardiothoracic unit. Only one thing mars their future happiness—they are a pair. Nathan has never found his breed partner, the man who would make their trio complete.
During an armed standoff in the ER where a stranger tries to kidnap Trinity, the man who rescues her is badly wounded. When she calls Nathan to help, he recognizes Vaughn is his breed partner.
Trinity loves having two men lavish her with sex. Vaughn’s been a loner all his life, but he falls deeply in love with Trinity, who confesses her deadly past, which has finally caught up with her. She needs their help to survive.
Trinity’s secret is far more deadly than any of them know. It will take their bond and all the courage they have to combat the man who is determined to take Trinity for his own.
Genre: Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Paranormal, Shape-shifter
Length: 51,232 words
HER HEART IN THEIR HANDS
The Tigers of Texas 9
Em Ashcroft
MENAGE EVERLASTING

Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting
HER HEART IN THEIR HANDS
Copyright © 2017 by Em Ashcroft
E-book ISBN: 978-1-68295-874-2
First E-book Publication: February 2017
Cover design by Les Byerley
All art and logo copyright © 2017 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
About the Author
Landmarks
Cover
HER HEART IN THEIR
HANDS
The Tigers of Texas 9
EM ASHCROFT
Copyright © 2017
Chapter One
Trinity Forrest stretched her arms wearily. She’d had a long day, but this last case had been straightforward. A kid had come to the emergency room with one finger slashed to the bone. He should have been in school, but outside the sun shone and the fish were biting. Trinity couldn’t blame him for skipping the classroom, though she didn’t tell him that. Maybe if she’d known he was at the creek, she might have joined him. She’d have taken a book and a hat and spent the day doing nothing at all.
Bliss.
The cub scampered around the room, making Trinity laugh. Being in the same room with a half-grown tiger would have freaked her out big time a few years ago. Now it formed part of a day’s work. A very good part.
The cub plunked on his behind, his tail curling around his front paws. She could have sworn he grinned at her. The bandage stuck to his paw was hanging off, and apart from a bit of bare skin, it looked fine.
“Okay, you can shift back now.”
A ripple passed through the figure, as if a river had run over him, and a leggy teenage boy sat on the floor of the side ward instead. He glanced at his hand. “Wow, it’s nearly healed. Good job, Doc.”
“Thanks.” Trinity gave him a wry smile. “That’s what I do. But the accelerated healing helps, so good job to you, too.” When a shape-shifter moved to his other form, it vastly aided the healing process. She wished she had the ability, but there it was. Humans had to go through healing the old-fashioned way. Bit by bit and far more slowly. A gash like that would have taken at least a fortnight to begin to heal for her.
Unless she was mated of course, but that wasn’t likely to happen. In order to bond, she’d have to link with a breeding pair.
How did a woman manage two men full-time, anyway? Female shape-shifters understood the idea, grew up expecting it. By the time they reached mating age, they took it for granted. Two men in her bed, two husbands to care for. The dearth of female shape-shifters and a change in the basic makeup of human females had changed that.
The kid got to his feet and crossed the room to grab his clothes and scramble back into them. That was a feature of shape-shifter life Trinity had taken awhile to get used to. They had no self-consciousness about stripping. Nudity meant nothing to them. It was either that or lose a set of clothes every time they shape-shifted.
The screens in the corner of the ward remained pristine, folded neatly against the wall. These days Trinity knew better than to attempt to pull them out just because somebody wanted to get dressed.
“I want to know you’re back in school tomorrow.” She glanced outside. It was still a fine late summer day. “Fishing can wait until the weekend.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He had his back to her, but she suspected he’d rolled his eyes.
The lack of pr
ivacy issues with stripping and dressing had its advantages. Also, its guilty pleasures. Watching a powerful, mature male tiger change into a hunky cowboy would never get old.
The boy thanked her politely and left, with places to go and people to see. Or, rather, fish to see because it was far too late for him to go back to school today. Trinity watched him stroll down the ward, wondering if she’d ever felt so carefree.
She already knew the answer, and it was no. Rather, so long ago she couldn’t remember it. Too many things had happened since then.
She’d get a cup of coffee. Her shift didn’t end for another four hours, and already she was flagging. She turned, stripping off her disposable gloves and dumping them in the bin. She could almost taste that coffee.
The alarm bell rang, and the nurse behind the desk at the end of the ward held up a hand. Her heart sinking, Trinity went to see what the emergency was. She didn’t remain in suspense long. “RTA,” the nurse said succinctly. “There’s been a collision on the highway, two cars involved.” She read the details off the screen. “There’s at least one major life-threatening injury, chest trauma.”
Trinity grabbed a pair of gloves and slid them on, casting a last, regretful thought in the direction of her break. She’d be lucky to finish her shift on time, much less get luxuries like coffee and food. “Do you have any more details? Humans or shape-shifters?” Trinity snapped on a fresh pair of gloves.
“Humans. Tourists, most likely.”
These days Goldclaw drew a lot of tourists. A generation ago people had avoided the town, when shape-shifters and humans preferred to remain apart and live separate lives. If that was still happening, Trinity wouldn’t be here. More than likely she would be working in some inner city hospital dealing exclusively with humans.
She glanced around and issued a few orders, but her staff was on it. They were already arranging the ward, clearing the way to the crash room, rolling out beds and gurneys to take the less critically injured. Trinity picked up the phone and called the ICU, telling them to expect a patient.
“I called the heart unit,” Angie said. Trinity’s heart sank when she recalled the surgeon on call today. She could have done without Dr. Nathan Goldclaw impinging on her working day.
Ten minutes later, the doors to the emergency unit burst open and blue-clad paramedics wheeled the first gurney through. Trinity hurried to the side and listened to the para rapidly outlining the status. The man was blessedly unconscious. Blood covered him from major wounds in his chest and on his head. Less critical gashes scored his arms, where he’d probably held his hands up in instinctive defense.
The nurse got busy inserting a cannula into the back of the hand. “Room three,” Trinity said. He needed attention before she sent him anywhere.
Nurses busied themselves setting up oxygen and the drugs cart. The man on the gurney would need all the help they could give him.
She sensed rather than saw the cardiac surgeon enter the room. The man had an annoyingly powerful charisma. “You have somebody for me?” His smooth voice brought her to instant attention.
She was a professional. She could handle this. As she opened her mouth, he continued, “Stupid question. This guy looks like the reason you called me down.” The arrogant, brilliant heart surgeon was already bending to attend to the patient.
Dr. Nathan Goldclaw looked up. His golden brown eyes met hers dispassionately, and then he nodded, his lips flattening. “I’ll have to stabilize him here. This is bad, Dr. Forrest.”
She glanced at the patient’s chest and nodded. “I can see that. I’ll deal with the head trauma.”
She took the tablet from the nurse and glanced down the list of drugs they’d already given him. Shit, they’d have to fight hard to save this one. He was human, so no chance of a shape-shift helping him.
Immediately she went to work, ordering a series of tests that wouldn’t mean much if the doctor couldn’t do some work on the chest and fast. The ribs had caved in, and parts of the lung were exposed. It was easy to see the man breathing—sickeningly easy.
On examination, she discovered the head injury didn’t amount to much, but she wanted to make sure. She ordered a head scan and other meds for the head trauma, dictating what she needed to the nurse. Swiftly, she assessed the other injuries. “It’s up to you, Dr. Goldclaw. Nothing here is as life threatening as the one you’re dealing with. He’s had a knock, probably concussed, but the skull and spine are intact. He’ll need a head CT. He needs sutures.” She picked up the disinfecting powder and sprinkled it over the wound. The man had short hair. It wouldn’t interfere with her work.
He glanced up at her. “Dr. Nathan,” he corrected her. He resumed work, picking pieces of bone out of the chest cavity.
Trinity found it hard to use his first name at work. When he’d arrived at the hospital he brought a reputation with him. Dr. Nathan Goldclaw had played the field, and for the first few months here, he continued on his way. He played as hard out of working hours as he worked inside them. He was as far outside Trinity’s preferences as possible and she’d done her best to ignore him. Which didn’t help to explain subsequent events one bit.
She got on with the suturing. She’d usually give the job to a junior, but she didn’t want to leave yet. Something felt off here, and she didn’t know what. Under her fingers, something didn’t feel right.
She checked the vitals again, glancing at Angie, who nodded confirmation to her findings. “Keep monitoring.” They had protocols and procedures, but apart from those, they were on their own. This kind of case needed quick and decisive action if they wanted to save the man. Dr. Nathan was hard at work inside the patient’s chest cavity.
“Are there any more victims from the accident?”
Angie nodded. “Two, but neither is badly injured. The resident is assessing them. The guy in the other car, the one who caused the smash, has a concussion.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it. Dr. Graham’s seeing to the others. He’ll call if he needs us.”
Trinity trusted her resident. She should because she’d personally chosen him for the position, stolen him from Dr. Nathan, which might account for some of the surgeon’s bad attitude.
Dr. Nathan threw down his scalpel. It clattered into the metallic bin.
The heart monitor chose that moment to go haywire.
Dr. Nathan grimaced. “Aw, hell. Okay, we’re going upstairs. OR Four.” Four nurses moved the bed from the bay, the front two yelling for people to get out of the way. Trinity ran ahead, ensuring the elevator was open, ready for them to roll the bed inside.
“Do you need me?”
Never taking his eyes from his work, he shook his head. “No, stay here and do your job. I need cardiac experts, not a general surgeon.”
Trinity fumed. Typical arrogance. Brilliant from an early age, Dr. Nathan had gone to med school early and finished in record time. Like Trinity, he could treat humans and shape-shifters, where most surgeons specialized in one or the other. He could treat lions, tigers, eagles, and any other type of shifter.
And Trinity wasn’t a general surgeon. She was a fucking ER surgeon, she thought viciously as she turned to the next patient.
The emergency had finished in an hour.
The day turned back to near normal. Trinity shook herself briskly. She had a job to do and coffee to find. If she’d needed it before, sure as hell she needed it now.
In the nurses’ station, she found Angie, who poured her a coffee from the glass pitcher set under the drip cone. “I made it myself five minutes ago,” she said.
Trinity accepted the mug gratefully and poured in a dollop of cream. “Thanks. The stewed stuff has me climbing the walls.”
Angie nodded to the door. “I needed it after seeing Dr. Gorgeous in action. My, but he’s fine!”
“That’s one word to describe him.” Trinity didn’t want to talk about Dr. Nathan.
Predictably, Angie took no notice. After a sip of coffee, she gave an apprec
iative “Mmm. You know, I wouldn’t mind being one of his ports of call. Those eyes slay me!” She rolled her own dark brown eyes to demonstrate. “When he looks at me, I find concentrating that much harder. And those abs! He’s not at his best in scrubs, but he’s still lickable. But Sandy, you know, the OR nurse, says he’s not playing the field like he used to.”
“Maybe he’s taking a break.” She shrugged. “He probably finds juggling all those women and his career difficult. Perhaps he’s sleeping nights instead of playing around.”
“Yes, but who’s he sleeping nights with?” Angie gave a lazy grin, her full, red lips opening enticingly as if she could taste him.
Trinity finished her coffee. “Who cares? As long as he leaves us alone to do our jobs.”
As she strolled from the room, refueled and ready to finish her shift, the elevator doors slid open and Dr. Nathan Goldclaw stormed out, heading for the reception desk. “Okay, who did the initial assessment on this patient?” He slammed a folder down hard enough to make the poor receptionist jump.
Trinity stepped forward and picked up the folder. “It’s my department.” She gave him a bland smile, hiding the trembling that always hit her when people shouted. She wasn’t afraid, at least not much, just annoyed. Meeting his blazing eyes, she lifted her chin. “Is this about the guy you took upstairs half an hour ago?”
“I was still scrubbing in when he died.” He snapped his fingers in her face. “Just like that. We did everything we could, but it was a no-go.”
Frowning, she turned her attention to the notes. “Why?” Anxiety rose. Had she done something wrong? Having controlled her emotions, she read the notes then read them again.
