Their Wayward Bride (Bridgewater Ménage 2)

Mason held her upper body as I struggled with the buttons down the front of her dress.

"You shouldn't be—"

"What's your name?" Mason asked.

"Laurel."

"Laurel, your clothes are wet and you must get warm. Aren't you cold?"

She nodded and another shiver wracked her.

"Then let us take care of you," I soothed. "You're safe with us."

I began once again, but was quickly frustrated it took so long, so I yanked at the material and the buttons went skittering across the room. Underneath, she wore a corset and I worked the stays free.

"This isn't appropriate. I've never...I'm cold." She was confused and tired and clearly affected by the cold. Her modesty was a sign that she was thinking somewhat clearly, but her need for warmth overrode her anxiety.

"Shh, it's all right. We'll have you warm in just a minute," Mason told her, going to the shelf and pouring out a small portion of whiskey. "Here, drink this." He propped her up with his arm as he held the cup to her lips. She took a sip, then coughed and winced at the pungent taste. "More." She shook her head but he insisted and was able to get two swallows down. "Good girl."

Beneath the corset, she was covered—barely—by a thin shift. The lower half of the dress was sodden now, the snow that had clung to it melting in the warm room. The dark green wool accentuated her hair color, made her skin even paler. As Mason held her, I worked the garment down over her hips and onto the floor.

"Shit."

I couldn't have agreed with Mason more. We were in big trouble here. Our gazes met over the woman's head. We'd been waiting for her. The one. She was barely alive and I knew it to be so. How? I had no idea, but I knew it to the very marrow of my bones.

I looked to my friend and he gave me a quick nod.

Relief coursed through me at his tacit confirmation.

The skin of her leg was icy beneath my fingers. "Almost done, sweetheart."

"Her fingers and toes aren't black, so frostbite hasn't set in. Thank god," Mason muttered.

I tugged at the hem of her shift. "This is damp. It has to go."

"No, I need my clothes," she replied, trying to hold the shift down.

Mason stroked a hand over her hair. "Shh, we've got a warm blanket for you."

"Oh," she moaned, clearly the thought appealed to her.

"No wet clothes, sweetheart. We'll get the shift off you and then wrap you in a nice warm blanket." I tried to make my voice as soft as possible, but I wasn't known for my gentleness. Laurel required it, though, so I tempered it for her.

I quickly stripped her bare and I couldn't help but look at her luscious form before Mason wrapped the quilt around her, rubbing her with the soft material to warm her more quickly.

"That feels so good," she sighed as she curled into Mason's chest from her position on the table. She wasn't as small as she seemed in my arms. I estimated her to be of average height, and with ample curves. There were no sharp bones with her, only very plump breasts, her nipples tightly furled and the color a pale coral. I'd seen them in the few seconds before she was covered. Even her hips were lush and full as if made for a man's hands to grip. I'd even caught a quick glimpse of the hair that shielded her pussy. It was a shade darker than the hair on her head, a striking contrast to her pale skin and the pink flesh just peeking out. Mason lifted her into his arms and she rested her head against his shoulder as he carried her into the parlor. He sat in the chair directly by the fire as I followed with the heated blanket.

Unfolding it, I tucked it around her until she was completely covered with only her face showing. Beads of sweat dotted Mason's brow, which meant his heat would be seeping into her. I took the seat across from them, leaned forward with my forearms on my knees.

"Is that better?" Mason asked.

"Yes, you're so warm. You saved me."

"We'll keep you safe, sweetheart," Mason soothed, stroking the back of his knuckles over her cheek. "Her color's better," he told me.

Pink tinged her lips now instead of blue. A good sign. Her eyes drifted closed.

"I'm so tired," she said. The whiskey most likely helped with this.