Read A Contract Bride's Triple Surprise Online
Authors: Reece Butler
Tags: #Menage Everlasting, #Menage a Quatre (m/m/m/f), #Inc., #Siren-BookStrand
“
We
are going to do nothing. This morning is the first time I’ve spoken more than a few words with the man. Ross insisted he sleep in the house while they’re gone, so he’ll have a pallet by the kitchen until they return.”
Sophie raised an eyebrow.
“There’s nothing between us. Nothing!”
“I certainly saw something between you out in the wagon.” She spoke over Amelia’s gasp. “A woman doesn’t get that excited about a man she isn’t interested in.”
“He threatened to spank me! In the street!”
“And you loved the idea of it, didn’t you.”
“I beg your pardon!” Amelia struggled to her feet, hampered by the bustle.
“If you leave here, he will spank you.”
“He wouldn’t dare!”
“He did it to Prue the first time she tried having a hissy fit on him. Mind you, he kept her skirts down, but he told everyone, rather loudly, it was only because he doesn’t allow her to wear knickers.”
Amelia slumped onto the chair, face pale. “He actually did that?”
“Prue told me later that halfway home, he did it again, this time with her skirts up over her head. She struggled, kicking and screaming. She said it was the best fun. Mind you, she was much healthier when she first arrived. Every winter made her worse.”
“Oh, my.” Amelia fanned her face with her hand.
Sophie stood up. “I’ll give you a few minutes. When you’re calm, turn right at the hallway and join me in the kitchen. You’re not dressed for baking, but you could set some tables for me.”
“Of course,” replied Amelia primly. “I’ve taken you from your work. I do apologize.”
“Goodness, this was the most entertainment I’ve had since I planted my foot in Frederick Smythe’s bottom and shoved him out the front door.”
She paused with one hand on the crystal doorknob, her expression suddenly sober.
“Like others, Smythe thought he could take advantage of me. I don’t go far from the hotel without an escort, Amelia. Neither should you.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Job completed, Gillis almost whistled as, kilt swinging from side to side, he strolled down the middle of the street toward the McLeod Hotel. Ernest Thompson had crawled out of some hole and slouched on the front steps of Baldy’s Saloon. With that ugly mug, Daniel was lucky not to favor his father.
“Why don’tcha wear pants like a man instead of a skirt?”
Gillis usually ignored that sort of comment, but he felt different today. He stopped and turned to the man. Daniel’s pa. He’d love to kill him, but it wouldn’t be fair to the boy. With that attitude, it wouldn’t be much longer before someone else did him in. Gil set his fists on his hips, booted feet wide apart.
“You think wearing pants makes a man?” He tsked and shook his head. “The MacDougal motto is
Vincere vel mori
. Which do ye think I’ll do today? Conquer, or die?” He spoke as if in conversation but clear enough for all to hear.
“You can’t kill me in cold blood on the street.”
“I didnae say kill, laddie. I said conquer. Do ye think ye can spare a few minutes to meet my fists on this bonnie day?”
The man looked around. He licked his lips when those around him looked back and sneered. Either he fought, or he’d lose what little respect he had. He sniffed deep and spat. It caused a tiny puff of dust near Gillis’s boot.
Gillis watched the much smaller man approach. There was at least nine inches difference in height and almost as much in girth. The man put up his fists and swung. Gillis caught the fist in his hand. With the other, he grabbed the man by the shirt collar. No matter how hard he swung his remaining hand, all he could connect with was Gillis’s arm. Gillis lifted him off the ground so his feet dangled then dropped him. He sprawled in the dust.
When Thompson scuttled away on hands and knees, Gillis followed and gave him a boot in the rear. The man rolled away, howling.
“I dinna waste my time with the likes of you.” He turned in a circle, looking each man in the eye. “Any more of ye think ye’re man enough to insult The MacDougal?” Suddenly, not a man was looking at him. They’d either slunk back into the dark or found something far more interesting to look at, like their feet.
Gillis rolled his shoulders and continued down the middle of the street. When he passed the mercantile, the old dog struggled to his feet and paced with him.
“Damn dog’s smarter than half the men in this town,” he muttered as he turned toward the hotel. “I hope the lassie needs a lesson as well,” he said to the dog. It sat, knowing the hotel was out of bounds, as Gillis climbed the stairs. He marched through the front doors and down the hallway to the kitchen. He looked at the bustling group. No flimsy white dress.
“No Mrs. MacDougal, then?” He smiled and rubbed his hands in eagerness. “Guid!”
“Sorry to disappoint, but I’m setting the tables in the dining room.” Amelia strolled into the kitchen with a handful of spoons in one hand.
He slowly looked her up and down, admiring her as a woman for the first time. The fabric, see-through from right above the
V
of her chest to her neck, barely hid the flush that rose to her face. His cock rose as well. The heavy wool of the kilt pressed it down so no one else knew. He caught Sophie’s wink and smile and returned it. That woman missed nothing.
“I’ve done my business. Are ye ready to go across the street?”
She set her jaw. Her color deepened. Prue thought she controlled him, and he let her think that. He was discovering that Amelia was too honest to play those games. He hadn’t sparred with a woman other than Sophie in years, and that was only in friendship.
He suddenly realized he was glad to be alive. At this very moment, he was happy. He bent slightly forward and extended his left elbow.
“Shall we?”
He could tell she knew it was a dare. He’d push her boundaries as he found out what type of woman he’d insisted Ross marry. With this amount of fight in her, she was better off with Ross. Luckily, she got Nevin, too. As to him, well, he’d see how the wind blew.
Amelia handed the spoons to Elsbeth Fetters. The serving girl took them and flounced into the dining room. She made sure she turned fast enough for her ankles to show. The effort was lost on him. He wanted a woman, not a flighty miss.
The thought startled him for a moment. He wanted to bed Amelia, to share her with Ross and Nevin. He’d never love her as he had Prudence, but he cared for her. A home revolved around a woman, and the Clan needed a good home to raise children in. Amelia would be that woman.
“Thank you for your kind consideration, Mr. MacDougal,” said Amelia.
She moved toward him, her full skirts gliding across the floor as if they were at the finest ball in the East. He’d attended one or two when looking for a wife. Damn waste of time, material, and candles in his mind. The music was slow with too many violins screeching. Nothing like the pipes.
The pipes. He hadn’t gotten them out since he brought Prue home. She didn’t like the sound, she said. Too much like cats fighting. Well, Amelia was going to learn to like them whether she wanted to or not.
“What is that smug smile about, dear brother-in-law?”
She fluttered her eyelashes at him. Her words were like honey, but her look was pure poison. Ah, bettering this woman for the next few weeks was going to make him a new man.
“You’ll discover soon enough, Amelia.”
* * * *
“I swear I’ll not wear a corset again on a hot day while riding in this wagon!”
Amelia tried to move into a more comfortable position. It was unseasonably hot for late June. The afternoon sun beat down on them. She held a parasol matching her dress. Without it, she would burn through the thin material barely covering her shoulders. She gasped in relief when they entered the woods and the temperature dropped drastically.
“Whoa.”
She held the side as Gillis stopped the wagon. She turned to him.
“Take it off if it’s bothering you so much.”
He didn’t look at her as he swung down the side. His kilt swung wide, showing his white buttocks and strong thighs. He kept his back to her as he walked toward the stream with a bucket.
If she tried to get down without him, she would surely tear her dress. She couldn’t take off her corset without removing her dress. That was something she was not going to do until in the privacy of her room. But she could take off a few other layers.
She reached under her skirt, the side farthest from Gillis, and tugged. Gillis knelt by the stream filling the bucket, his back to her. She stood up, reached underneath, and wiggled her drawers down.
They were soaked, both at her waist and between her legs.
A quick look showed he was paying her no attention. She flipped up the overskirt and untied her petticoats. The top two were the thickest, covered in carefully ironed ruffles. She struggled out of them, leaving the plain one on. She gathered them up and then turned around. She knelt on the seat and carefully placed her bundle on a clean section of the wagon floor. She overbalanced and found herself caught, head and arms on one side and flailing legs on the other.
A warm hand on her bottom steadied her. Gillis reached around her middle with his other hand. He took his time lifting her top end up. In the process, his hand slipped over her corset to her breast. He held it there for a moment.
“Are ye sure ye dinna want me tae spank ye, lass?”
She heard the laugh in his voice.
“I’m very sure, thank you,” she growled. “Please remove your hands from my person so I can sit down.”
“If I thought ye did it a’purpose, ye’d not wish to be sitting for a wee while.”
He placed her hands on the boards and helped her balance until she could get herself right. He leaped off the wagon again, chortling. She was mortified at the position he’d found her in as well as his implication that she’d done it on purpose. She panted, once again cursing the corset that held her so tight.
“As soon as I get home, I’m going to take this off.” She suddenly gasped, her mouth dropping open. “Oh, no!”
Nevin had tied her corset and done up her buttons. On her back. She remembered him tucking the strings under her shoulder. The dress was so tight that she’d never reach to undo it herself.
She heard a deep snort of laughter. Gillis held up the bucket for the lead horse to drink. He had that cock-of-the-walk, know-it-all expression she’d seen on a few of the more insufferable boys who gathered around Prue.
“I wondered when ye’d figger that out.” He snorted again. The animal did as well, only louder. Gillis moved the bucket to the other horse.
“It’s not funny.”
“Aye, it is.” Though he spoke seriously, she saw the twinkle in his eye and lip twitch. “Ye’ve got twa choices. Ask me te help ye or wear what ye’ve got on until the others return.”
“I could ride to Beth’s and ask her to help.”
“Do ye know how to saddle a horse, lassie? I thought not.”
“I’ll not go near the stove in this dress. You’ll have to feed yourself.”
The horse finished drinking. He rubbed it between the ears. “Ye’ll nae go near the privy in it, either.” He grinned openly at her. “I’ll gladly lend ye my hands, fumble-fingered though they be.”
She glowered at him for a moment.
“Fine. But you’ll wear a handkerchief around your eyes.”
“I told Ross ye were a bright one.” He attached the bucket back to the side of the wagon and climbed up. She held on as it rocked with his weight. “I’ll cover my eyes tae keep yer modesty, Mrs. MacDougal.”
She’d wear her ugliest wash dress with a chemise and petticoat every day while Ross was away. After all, she had more chores with Daniel gone. She’d also have more free time. She wanted to use her charcoals to make a sketch of James as a present for Beth. Surely, they’d visit at least once while she was alone. The Elliotts said they’d help fill in for the two missing men, and Beth could easily come along.
She was silent the rest of the way home, thinking of her plans. Gillis, however, would look at her and chuckle every now and then, as if he had a funny secret he’d not share.
After today’s fiasco, she was bound to prove to him that she could do very well without him, thank you very much. She also wanted to prove to herself that she could do all the chores of a ranch wife. She tried to ignore the twitch between her legs that demanded the rough touch of a man.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Stop laughing. I don’t find this at all amusing.”
Gillis knelt on the bedroom floor while Amelia tied the red handkerchief tight around his closed eyes. She was madder than he’d ever seen Prue. But then, he didn’t bedevil his wife since she took it so badly. He hadn’t realized how much he kept back from her so as not to cause an upset. Even when they met, he treated Prudence like a porcelain doll. Amelia, however, was able to take all sorts of pranks.
When he saw Amelia dang near buck-naked in the clearing, with Ross banging her from behind and Nevin kneeling before her, sucking her pussy, he’d damn near come on the spot. He quickly turned around, in such shock he didn’t know or care who she was. Just that he could never have that with his late wife. Prue was never so hot that she couldn’t wait until they went into their room at night.