Their Conquered Bride (Bridgewater Ménage 9) (Grace Goodwin)

They held me in silence for several minutes, but I felt Logan’s growing impatience in the hard planes of his body and I knew I was in trouble. Ford’s words confirmed it. “Wife, I believe there are some things we need to discuss.”

“Yes, there are.” Logan added, nearly growling in my ear from behind me. “Lying, Lizzie? Keeping secrets from your husbands?”

I stiffened as Logan pulled away from me and I tried to defend my actions. I looked up into Ford’s eyes, hoping that at least he, as the more emotionally controlled man in my life, would try to understand my side of the story. “I didn’t know what to do. I was scared.”

“I know. And so does Logan. But you should have told us of the situation. We know what’s best for you. You are our top priority. All this time you spent worried and upset about that worthless piece of paper when your only thoughts should have been on your husbands and how to build a new life here, with us. That document was a threat to all of us, yet you chose to keep it to yourself. You should have trusted us to take care of you.” Ford took my hand and led me out of the house as we followed Logan across the grass toward our much smaller home.

My nerves sizzled with awareness. I couldn’t keep my eyes from the tense lines of Logan’s broad shoulders. Nor could my mind make sense of the difference between Ford’s gentle tone of voice and iron strength of his grip. I was free from Mr. Jenkins, forever. Shouldn’t that make them happy? I was nearly giddy with relief, but I knew Ford was right. If I had shown them the paper, it would have been destroyed already, and no threat to us. What if the sheriff had been on Mr. Jenkins’ side of the argument? Or had no love for Ford?

Ashamed with myself, I worried what my men were going to do to punish me. I knew they wouldn’t truly hurt me, but the tense line of Ford’s jaw did not make me eager to learn what they had in mind. Once we were far enough away from the main house not to be overheard, I asked, “Where are you taking me?”

Ford didn’t look at me as he picked up the pace. I was practically running to keep up with his agitated stride. Logan was even farther ahead.

“You lied to us, Lizzie.”

“I’m sorry.” And I was. I truly was. I could tell my lack of trust in them had hurt them more deeply than I cared to admit. They’d done nothing but take care of me and protect me from the moment they’d seen me. I should have trusted them. Why could I so easily give them my body, but not surrender my heart? Why was I still holding back?

If I had truly fallen in love with them, I would have told them everything. I would have laid my ear over Ford’s beating heart and told him how scared I was. I would have held tightly to Logan and trusted my warriors to defeat my enemy. But I’d kept that part of myself from them. I hadn’t surrendered everything, and now they both knew it.

Ford shook his head. “Sorry isn’t good enough, sweetheart. Not this time.”

Chapter Twelve

Ford

I wanted to take my wife over my knee and spank her until she couldn’t sit down for a week. I wanted to fuck her so hard she’d never get me out of her body. I wanted to hold her down until she screamed, and sobbed, and told me why she’d kept this secret from us, why she still didn’t trust us to take care of her.

If I were honest, most of the anger churning within was self-directed. Logan and I had the most beautiful, most sensual, kind-hearted and loving woman for a wife, and she did not love us, did not trust us.

We’d failed her somehow. As I pulled her along to the privacy of our small home, I tried to figure out what to do next. We’d spanked her, fucked her, and cherished her. She slept nestled between us every night, safe and warm and surrounded by two men who would die to protect her.

It wasn’t enough. We’d conquered her body, but we hadn’t overcome her fears, hadn’t been able to win her heart.

We reached the house and Logan left the door open, as he was already inside. Lizzie glanced up at me, a cloud of tears gathering in her eyes, but I shook my head. No, I was not going to let her go. Not now. Not ever.

I did not force her across the threshold; this had to be her decision. I would never force her to accept us. Hell, if I could force her to love us, I would, but that had already proven impossible.

In the rational part of my mind, I knew that we expected a lot from her. We’d only known her for a short time. Love often took months or years to grow.

But I was a greedy bastard, I wanted it now. So did Logan.

I could live without her love, for now, but I could not survive with my mind intact without her trust.

Lizzie squared her shoulders and stepped inside our house. I followed her immediately, squinting blindly for a few seconds as my eyes adjusted to the dimly lit interior after walking in such bright sunlight.

“Close the door, Ford.” Logan’s voice drifted to us both from a dark corner of the room and I kicked the door closed with my foot, not wanting to take my eyes off our bride, not for a single second. I had no idea what she was going to do.

Silence built in the small room as I waited to see what Logan intended. I knew he was struggling, too, for the quiet went long, growing until it was more painful to my ears than a cannon shot on the battlefield.

The stakes were higher here than on any battlefield we’d ever set foot on. There, I simply risked my life. Here, with Lizzie, I risked my future, my heart and soul. They were hers, had been since the first moment I set eyes on her when she climbed down out of that stagecoach.

Logan held himself perfectly still, waiting, for God only knew what. To my surprise, Lizzie spoke first.

“I’m truly sorry, husbands. I should have told you everything. I put our family in danger. I was foolish and scared, and I should have trusted you with the truth as easily as I trust you with my body.” She walked forward, into the center of the room, and began to unfasten the buttons of her dress.

I watched, spellbound, eager to see her naked form, even as disbelief warred with the eager surge of my cock. We’d taken Lizzie’s pleasure many times, but she had never initiated our loving, never offered herself to us first. Not once.

Her dress dropped to a pool around her feet, followed by her corset—no drawers for her