Beauty and the Beasts [Bride Train 6] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (2 page)

It was one of the things Miss Lily and Rosa had taught her to help survive her shame and humiliation. The only way to banish horrific memories, said Miss Lily, was to bring them into the light and let the sun destroy them. But what about the good memories that went along with the bad, the ones she could never speak of?

The hard nipples pressing against her dress and the ache between her legs, caused by the infuriating man in the other room, suggested she needed more than a cat to be satisfied. But she’d had too much of men and their dangly bits. Most of them just wanted to satisfy themselves. Luke Frost was so arrogant, she bet he was one of the “me first, second, and third” types. And the man thought she should marry him? Hah!

His partner, Gabriel Downey, was completely different. Quiet and shy, Gabe looked away each time she found him watching her at the weddings yesterday. His gaze was so intense it made her nipples sit up and beg even though she was rushed off her feet with all the work.

It was the same with the third member of the Circle C ranch, Oscar Cutler. Oz had a riot of red curls and a devil-may-care attitude to match. When he danced with her at the Christmas party, his fingers caressed her bottom and drifted across her breasts as if by accident. And that eye patch! It made him look like a lusty pirate. He only needed one eye to express what he wanted to do with her. She groaned and hauled herself to her feet.

Women were so rare in Montana Territory that her past didn’t stop Luke from wanting to marry her. But she knew he’d hold it over her head, wondering who’d seen or touched her. No matter how much she craved a man’s touch, she couldn’t marry. How could she when he would own her, body and soul, and everything she valued? If he didn’t like cats, he could kill Oliver, beat her for complaining, and sell her bakery. And the law would support him.

No, marriage was not for her. But what about a lover or two? Her face, and other parts, heated in eagerness. An eager-to-please man in her bed, without the law giving him control over her, would be wonderful. But she’d have to be discreet, and that wasn’t possible in a town the size of Tanner’s Ford.

She sighed and absently rubbed her swollen breasts. The back door opened and she jumped, but it was only Billy with a bucket of water. She smiled at the boy.

“Are you hungry this morning?”

He yawned before grinning back. “I’m a growin’ boy, Miss Sarah. I’m always hungry. You want this in the front room so you can finish washing those counters?” When she nodded, he opened the door she’d shut in Luke’s face and walked through.

“Good mornin’, Mr. Frost. If yer lookin’ fer Miss Sarah, she’s in the kitchen. Go right through. I’m off to breakfast.”

“Thank you, Billy.”

Sarah couldn’t fault the boy for being polite, but she gritted her teeth at Luke’s smooth reply. Heat flashed at the thought of him seeing her so agitated. She needed to find some wash rags and get busy. She’d been cleaning this old building for days and had a few hours of work left to do.

“Miss Unsworth! How lovely to see you again. And so soon.”

“What do you want?”

Luke grinned at her growl. He pushed the door wide with one hand and pointed to the room he’d just come from. “Those shelves are empty. Do you have any baked goods for sale in here?”

She gave him a look that matched his name. “As you know, my bakery opens Monday.”

He removed his hat and stepped into her kitchen, sighing mournfully.

“That is a pity. I haven’t eaten today, and last night’s supper is but a memory.” He winced, rubbing his stomach.

“I’ve got nothing for you.”

He placed his hat over his heart and pulled his lips down in a deep frown. “You wound me, madam. How will I manage?”

“Don’t try those theatrics on me, Mr. Frost. They might have worked with swooning ladies back East, but I’m no fainting maiden. If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do. Try the hotel kitchen if you’re that hungry. Sophie McLeod might have a few leftover scraps, if she hasn’t already given them to a stray dog.”

Her harsh words didn’t do a bit of good. Instead of leaving, he dropped the false act and looked closely at her. He cleared his throat.

“Are you refusing my suit because of my face? I know it scares women and children.”

“You don’t scare me. I don’t care about your scars.”

“You haven’t really looked at me before.”

Though she was terribly busy keeping platters full of food at the triple wedding, she had taken a good look at Luke the previous day. The midday sun had been unforgiving. The scar which marred his face ran from above his right cheekbone near his temple, across his nose, ending at his left jaw. In its journey across his face, the weapon had taken a chunk of bone out of his nose.

He expected her to say something, perhaps how it wasn’t that bad, even though it was. There was absolutely nothing he could do about it. The wide, raw marks wouldn’t improve, ever. They also wouldn’t get any worse. And, no matter that he wanted something she didn’t want to give, he was kind. Tierson, the man who said he loved her and then sold her to fill his pocket with gold, was handsome. So was the first man who touched her body and then left her behind, knowing she’d be hurt. She’d take a scarred face and honesty over a pretty face and the invisible stamp of evil.

“If you ever had to wear spectacles, you wouldn’t have to worry about them sliding off.”

“Pardon me?” He frowned and tilted his head like a bird listening.

“That dent in your nose will stop your spectacles from sliding down when you bend your head. In fact, you could read a book without having to push them back up all the time, like my father and uncle used to.”

He blinked, his face blank. “You’re serious.”

She nodded. “Don’t you agree?”

He snorted and looked away. He stared at the wall for a moment and turned back. “To be honest, I never thought about wearing spectacles.”

“I hope I haven’t offended you. I’ve been told I’m too practical sometimes.”

He shook his head, a wry smile playing around his lips. In spite of herself, she felt a stab of interest.

“That is the most rational thing anyone has said about my face since that Johnny Reb tried to kill me.” He flushed and looked away. His glance took in her kitchen and the room beyond. “I admire the courage it took to start this bakery.”

“It wasn’t courage as much as necessity.”

A spark appeared in his eyes and he drew himself up. The suave gentleman was back. “Come, come, Miss Unsworth. Surely you have other options?”

He dropped his eyes to her thick black boots and slowly lifted them up her body. It made her pulse flutter far too fast. She had to open her mouth to breathe. Her nipples, hidden behind a shift, blouse, and apron, hardened into nubs. Her breasts swelled, as did other parts.

“Marriage, for instance.” He waggled his eyebrows knowingly.

“I told you at Christmas that I’ll never marry. If that’s all you want to say, I’ve got work to do.”

He shrugged off her words. “You’ve achieved a lot in a short time.”

She waited, but he didn’t continue. She drew herself up to her full height. “I expected you to add something about a mere woman achieving this.”

“There’s nothing ‘mere’ about a woman. And believe me, Miss Unsworth,” he murmured. “I’m well aware of your womanhood.”

She gulped when he took her right hand, but didn’t pull away. His thick calluses brushed against her thin ones. She allowed him to raise her hand to his mouth, mostly because his expression dared her to complain. Instead of kissing the air over the tips as she expected, he nipped her knuckle, then touched the spot with the tip of his tongue. His touch was far too arousing for her comfort. She packed away the memory. She’d bring it out at night, when her fantasies freed her. In the harsh light of day, she had to push him away.

“If you’re that hungry, I am sure Sophie could find something to feed you—”

“It’s not food I want, and we both know it.”

He growled the words and then curled her fingers into his palm. She swallowed hard. The vein in her neck throbbed. He stepped close and bent as if to whisper in her ear but said nothing. His breath fluttered the loose hair at her nape. She shivered.

“Perhaps we could discuss this hunger? I can see from your reaction to my touch”—he brushed his lips over the vein in her neck—“that you want it as much as I.” She closed her eyes as he nibbled his way to her ear. “Are you not hungry, Miss Unsworth?”

The sound of heavy boots and deep voices came in the door to the street. She couldn’t be found like this! She stepped back and yanked her hand away.

“I’m a cook, and work with food all day.” She forced her voice to sound as chill as the wind sweeping down snow-covered mountains. “Of course I’m not hungry.”

She swept past him into the front display room. He followed her like a caboose behind a train. The room darkened when a large body filled the outside door. Gabriel Downey was so large he had to duck to get in. He immediately pulled his hat off. His smile was so gentle she had to return it.

“Morning, ma’am.”

She coughed to clear her throat. “Mr. Downey. I’m so pleased to see you. Thank you for helping clean my windows and move my stove the other day. I saved some cherry tarts in case you came by, as a thank-you.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

Gabe’s stomach rumbled through the room. A bit of pink appeared in his cheeks. He fidgeted with his hat, which he held at his waist.

“The tarts are in the kitchen. Just give me a moment.”

“What?” Luke glared at Gabe. “You get cherry tarts and I get a ‘come back on Monday’?”

That took Mr. Luke Frost down off his high horse! Sarah hid a smile behind her hand as she slipped through the thick door into the kitchen. Unfortunately, just because a man was arrogant and irritating, it didn’t stop her from wanting his touch. She wouldn’t let him have the pleasure of knowing that, however.

Gabe aroused her as well, but in a different way. He was bigger and broader than Luke and, with his brown hair, reminded her of a lumbering bear. But he was kind and gentle. She knew why he held his hat over his belt, and it wasn’t just good manners. She was sure he was built like a stallion. No wonder, as he was six inches past six feet, with large feet and hands.

She loved the way Gabe’s voice, one of the deepest she’d ever heard, vibrated against her body when he held her. It had happened only once, when he carried her from that locked room. Even now her pussy responded to the memory, purring in need and hope. Dreams and fantasies were always better than reality, and they made her want things best forgotten.

Orgasms, in particular.

When a woman experienced her first orgasm, it opened a Pandora’s box of delight. Unfortunately, the rapture could never be forgotten. She’d tried, but her craving for it only increased. Just one man had pleasured her, and that was many months ago. Far too long by the way her pussy and breasts throbbed. She wanted Luke, or Gabe, or Oz in her bed, but how could she get what she craved without the bonds of marriage? Certainly not while she lived in Tanner’s Ford, and she could never leave the wonderful friends she’d made.

She lifted the tin plate of tarts she’d put in the pie safe.

“You harm one hair on Sarah’s head and, partner or not, I’ll grind you into dust.”

Gabe’s voice made her stop behind the door where neither man could see her.

“Why would you think I’d hurt her when I want to marry the woman?” replied Luke. His loud voice easily carried through the gap. “She’s perfect to bear the next generation of Frost sons.”

She pressed her lips together to keep back the words she wanted to hurl at him. Thanks to her bakery, she could be independent. She would easily give up the orgasms a husband might provide, in order to be free.

“Why?”

Gabe spoke quietly, but she heard the demand in his voice. Luke might be the boss of the Circle C, but Gabe had a certain power of his own.

“You mean, in addition to her wide hips and generous breasts?”

She snapped her mouth shut, holding back a gasp at Luke’s insult. She heard a growl from the front room. Feet shuffled on the rough board floor. A grunt was followed by a loud expulsion of air. After a moment she heard a low moan.

“Sarah’s a beautiful woman, if that’s what you meant by your rude words,” said Gabe loudly. “But she’s also smart, sweet, and strong, and she’s determined to make her own way. That’s what you should be wanting in a wife. But no, all you want is someone to provide sons to hang a name on.” Gabe snarled a word that Sarah didn’t catch.

She waited, heart pounding, for Luke’s reply. If she didn’t already think Gabe was a wonderful man, this would have convinced her. It also confirmed her opinion of Luke. He might arouse her, but he was demanding, arrogant, and would try to rule her life. She wanted nothing to do with such a man!

Other than rough breathing, she heard nothing more. She pushed the door fully open with one hip and carried the tarts in. Gabe stared at the floor, absently rubbing his right fist with his left hand. Luke was bent over, holding his stomach with one hand and the edge of the counter with the other.

“Did you hit him?” She looked from Gabe, to Luke, and back.

Gabe shrugged. “He insulted you. I showed him the error of his ways.” The corner of his lip turned up when he looked at his partner.

“Pardon me, Miss Unsworth,” gasped Luke. He slowly stood up, keeping his hand on his stomach. “My dear friend and partner,” he said sarcastically, glaring at Gabe, “decided I said something rude. He took exception to it.”

“What did you say?”

Luke looked toward Gabe, who crossed his arms and glared back. “I”—he cleared his throat—“I said something about you being well suited for children. I didn’t phrase it particularly well, but I meant it as a compliment.”

A compliment?

Gabe tugged the plate of tarts from her tight grip. He dropped one in his mouth. She smiled when he closed his eyes and moaned. She turned from Gabe’s appreciation to Luke, and her temper rose.

“I heard what you said about wanting to marry me. I told you at Christmas that I’m not interested.”