Their Brazen Bride (Bridgewater Ménage 8)

He grinned. “Exactly.”

“Marry some rich heiress. While Miss Bennett deceived you, there are other women here in Butte with more money than God. It’s the richest town on earth!”

The mines surrounding the city were heavily laden with copper. So much so there was more money here than in New York or anywhere else. If he wanted to land a rich bride, he was in the right place.

“It’s not as easy as it seems,” he replied.

I sniffed. “Perhaps if you weren’t such a brute, women might actually find you charming.”

He didn’t seem bothered by my sharp retort. “Perhaps I will marry you. I can tolerate your damaged face in exchange for your money.”

It was then I realized I’d taken the wrong tack. Tennessee painfully gripped my hand. I wasn’t sure if it was out of fear or because she wanted me to stop talking.

There was no good conclusion to this confrontation, not for me, at least.

“Let Miss Bennett go. She’s just a pawn. You want money from me. She is not the collateral you need.” I tilted my head and whispered to my friend. “Go. Start walking and don’t come back.”

Her sweaty hold disappeared, and she slowly walked away. Mr. Grimsby didn’t stop her, nor did his henchman. They knew my statement was correct. She had no value to him. I heard her quick steps as she neared the door, then it opened and slammed shut in her haste to get away.

“Now, then. I believe marrying you is a good idea after all.” Mr. Grimsby looked over my shoulder toward the henchman. “Go collect a priest. Any one will do.”

A priest? I wasn’t marrying him. Not only was I already married, but I felt sick at the idea of being his wife. What I had shared with Tucker and Gabe had been… special. I couldn’t imagine doing those things with Mr. Grimsby. The idea of see

ing him naked, forcing me to my knees to take his cock in my mouth made me gag.

When I heard the door close once again, I pulled the gun from my reticule. There was no way I was going to let him proceed. While my hand was steady as I aimed at him, my nerves were frayed. I’d found the weapon in the Landrys’ kitchen. I didn’t know which brother it belonged to, but it was loaded and hopefully enough to deter Mr. Grimsby. At least enough to escape his house.

“I’ll be leaving now, and you will leave me alone. The brooch will be all the payment you receive from me.” I retreated, only glancing to the side so I didn’t bump into anything.

Mr. Grimsby stepped toward me, eyes narrowed and angry. As he lunged toward me, I fired, shooting just over his right shoulder. “That was a warning.”

He put his hands up and stayed still, clearly surprised I wasn’t afraid to use the gun.

I heard the front door open, but I was afraid to look behind me, to take my eyes off the man who could surely disarm me. But I couldn’t give the henchman behind me the chance to grab the weapon so I spun on my heels and ran for the door, toward my only escape. I didn’t even make it a step before I bumped into a hard body, strong hands gripping my arms. Holding me still.

I struggled and shouted, fought him, but it was no use. I couldn’t defend myself against someone so powerful.

“No!”

I had lost..

CHAPTER NINE

Tucker

Seeing Abigail with a smoking gun back away from the bastard with a smoking gun—one I instantly recognized as my own—in her hands had my anger grow to the point where I could barely see straight. Gabe and James were right behind me, but I couldn’t do anything but grab hold of Abigail. I usually went after the danger and eliminated it, but not this time. Yes, I wanted to take the weapon out of her hand and just shoot the bastard, but I needed to ensure her safety. Gabe could have his turn with vengeance.

But instead of wrapping her arms about me and holding on for dear life, Abigail fought me, pummeling my chest with her hands, pushing and struggling to get away. When she waved the gun in my face as she fought, I realized she didn’t know who I was. She thought I was the man who’d walked out of the house as we were going up the walk. While he was big, he wasn’t any match for the three of us.

My heart ached knowing she was fighting for her life, that she thought a man was holding her to hurt her. Her strength and energy was impressive, but it only showed her desperation. What had this man done? She appeared unharmed, but I knew damage could be inflicted in ways not discernible. If she had been harmed, then I’d fucking shoot the man, even if he was already dead.

When the hard metal hit my chin, I took hold of her wrist, forcing the gun to point away from both of us. Christ, she was going to shoot one of us by accident in her haze of fear.

“Abigail.” I bit her name out in a harsh growl.

“Enough.”

“No! Leave me alone.” She continued to fight, but I would not relent on my hold. I never would again.