Submitting to Two Doms (Cowboy Doms 5)

He entered the rustic cabin, shut the door and leaned against it. A rare smile curved his mouth as he gazed at his partner lounging in front of the fireplace. “That was quick thinking up there, digging your nail into that bug bite.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” She sighed, irritation flitting across her face. “Too bad it didn’t give us better results. I was hoping she would at least end up hurt bad enough to lay her up at the house. It would have made getting to her with no one else around easier.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Young and Fisher seem damned protective of her when we were told no one knows about the contract.” Walking over, he threw himself onto the sofa next to her and propped his feet on the coffee table. “I’m thinking arranging an accident isn’t going to work.”

“You give in too easily,” she retorted. “We’re here until Tuesday. If an opportunity doesn’t present itself by then, we’ll leave and sneak back to finish the job. It won’t be the first time we’ve trekked through woods at night.”

“True, but if I have to go through that much trouble and risk, that impatient asshole is paying more.”

She patted his arm. “I always did say good things come to those who wait.”

“There’s more irritation here than a fly bite.” Tom eyed the puffy sore on Cleo’s hip with a skeptical look. “They hurt, but I agree with you, she shouldn’t have reacted like that. I’ll keep an eye on it, and her.”

Devin stroked the mare’s nose, glad to see she’d settled down and her gentle nature was once more shining through. “I was on the other side of Thor, so couldn’t see her clearly. Everyone was gathe

red around behind the horses, getting ready to mount. With only a few other horses bedded down inside tonight, she’ll rest quietly and maybe we can get a better look at it in the morning.”

He would never forget the surge of gut-clenching panic he experienced when Cleo’s thrashing hooves missed Kelsey’s face by inches, or the anxiety that had propelled him forward as she rolled down the hillside. Thank God, she hadn’t slid too far and they were able to bring her up with little effort. His throat constricted every time he imagined all the ways she could have ended up hurt much worse. And wouldn’t his best friend just love to know the extent of his worry and concern over the girl?

With a last pat to Cleo’s shoulder, Devin followed Tom out of the stall and caught Greg talking into his phone as he signaled to him from the front of the stables. “See you in a few minutes at the hall,” he told his manager, leaving Tom to scoop grain into Cleo’s feeder to see what Greg wanted.

“Hold on, Jordan. Devin’s here and we’re taking this outside.” Jerking his head toward the doors, Greg said, “McAllister needs to talk to both of us about Kelsey.”

From the urgency in Greg’s voice, Devin figured this wasn’t Kelsey’s foster parent just checking in. As soon as they stepped out into the night-fallen cooler air and verified no one else was around, Greg switched his cell to speaker and Jordan’s voice rang with sharp concern.

“You stay glued to Kelsey if you have to handcuff her to your side.”

“You found out something.” Greg’s knuckles went white as he held the phone between them.

With everyone except Tom and Kelsey already at the social hall for dinner, the only sounds in the yard were the night life stirring in the woods and McAllister’s voice. Jordan paused, as if weighing his words then replied, “Yes, and it goes back to Kelsey’s childhood, to when she was five and found alone several blocks from the house where it was later discovered her father had been murdered.”

“Son-of-a-bitch, you knew that all this time, didn’t you?” Devin snapped, pissed off at their deceit in keeping Kelsey’s past from them.

“DNA proved she was related to Fiske Olssen, a Swede with dual citizenship. It wasn’t until after we gave her a name and had her ensconced in foster care that we discovered her birth certificate. Her real name is Inga Olssen and her mother died in childbirth. At the time of his death, we had Olssen under surveillance for money-laundering and knew nothing about a daughter. He went to great efforts to keep her identity hidden.”

Greg swore and narrowed his eyes. “She doesn’t know any of this. I’ve heard her say she’s a nobody when she’s denying there’s any threat against her.”

Jordan’s heavy sigh came through the line and they could hear Theresa sniffing in the background. “She wouldn’t be a nobody even if she wasn’t related to a murdered criminal. We knew at the time about Olssen’s partner in Sweden and learned of an ongoing investigation over there that was at a standstill.”

“Fine,” Devin bit out, glaring at Greg for involving them in this mess. There was no way he would turn his back on Kelsey now. “Skip forward to now and tell us what you unearthed. Someone is after her, correct?”

“Yes. The authorities in Sweden referred a law firm searching for Inga Olssen to us since her father spent the last seven years of his life in the states. It appears he left her the contents of a lockbox to open upon her thirtieth birthday, which is coming up on October second. Both Sweden and we believe someone, likely Olssen’s partner, Sven Lindgren is trying to stop her from inheriting. Authorities in Sweden are working on getting a court order to open the box without involving her.”

Theresa’s stern voice came on the line. “In the meantime, you don’t let her out of your sight.”

“Like you did the night she was assaulted? Where the hell was she that someone could get to her?” Devin growled.

“At a private club, miles from the city, with strict instructions to remain upstairs in the office. She had no business spying on the activities taking place downstairs but disobeying our orders as well as the club owners may have saved her life since her assailant is the one who ended up dead.” Jordan’s voice vibrated with tension.

“Are you talking about a BDSM club?” Greg looked at Devin and mouthed ‘that explains a lot’ when Jordan confirmed his suspicion.

“It wasn’t my idea, but after I talked to her boss, which she doesn’t know, I thought she would be as safe as she’s been all these years. And yes, I know about your involvement in the lifestyle,” he added in a dry tone.

“And you still trusted us with her. When do you plan to tell her all of this?” Greg asked as Devin started toward the house.

Jordan sighed. “You’re going to insist on now, aren’t you?”

“We won’t keep her in the dark. You’ve done that long enough,” Devin retorted, opening the front door. “We’re headed over to dinner. Call her in two hours or we’ll tell her.” He pressed end before Greg had a chance to rebuke his statement.