Hero to Obey: Twenty-two Naughty Military Romance Stories Read online

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  Their Runaway Bride

  A Bridgewater Ménage Series Prequel

  By

  Vanessa Vale

  CHAPTER ONE

  ANNE

  "You will marry him."

  "I will not," I replied.

  My father stood, looming over me as I sat in one of the room's very uncomfortable chairs. I looked at the floor, the carpet's dark colors swirling as my eyes filled with tears. Taking a deep breath, I willed them away. My father had ruled my life, squeezed every bit of enjoyment from it until there was barely any left.

  "I will not have Mr. Atherton thinking you are common. We are anything but."

  Yes, common. My father did not lower himself to be like everyone else. God forbid I stopped and petted a dog. A pedigree dog in first class. Thomas Geary did not stop to pet a dog. He did not stop to deign anyone with his miserable presence unless it was of value to him. Including me. I was just his daughter. I wasn't a son—just a daughter who enjoyed petting dogs and helping the elderly woman on the stairs going to dinner. A daughter who refused to conform to his every wish.

  "I am not common, Father. You've ensured that," I countered. "But Mr. Atherton holds no appeal to me. I've told you that time and again."

  He walked over to me and I had to tilt my chin back to look at him. "He holds appeal to me and, more importantly, you hold appeal for him. Merging his railroad with my land holdings is crucial, Anne, and I will not have you ruining our arrangements."

  "So marriage to the man is part of the arrangement? What about love?"

  Father laughed. "Love? This isn't about love. This business venture, even this trip, it's all about money."

  Shame made my cheeks heat, for I believed in love wholeheartedly, while he did not. He'd married my mother because of an arrangement, and there had been no love between them. I didn't remember her, but I could not imagine any woman loving my father. She was just someone to produce an heir for him, and she hadn't even done that right. She'd made me, a female, then died giving birth to Father's true heir. The baby boy had died as well.

  He'd been stuck with me ever since. Why he hadn't remarried and found another woman to breed, I had no idea.

  I stood up and lifted my chin, met the same blue eyes as mine. I hoped that was the only thing we had in common. "I refuse."

  His eyes widened and the cords of his neck stood out. "You refuse?" He took a step toward me but I had nowhere to go, the chair pressing into my lower legs. "You will do exactly as I tell you."

  I shook my head, but my flare of defiance was weakening. "What happens if I don't?"

  He grabbed my wrist and pulled me towards him. His hold was unbreakable, his grip painful. I winced at the way he pressed against my bones. Tighter and tighter, until I gasped.

  "This will happen, Anne."

  Wincing against the pain, I tried to tug my arm free, but he wouldn't relent.

  "Do not defy me." He paused. "To ensure this arrangement is… complete, instead of waiting to dock, the ceremony will happen on this ship while you are much more docile."

  He let me go and I stumbled away from him, clutching my wrist in the palm of my other hand. "Tonight, Anne. The dress you wear to dinner will be your wedding dress."

  He opened the door.

  "Father," I said, ignoring the throb in my wrist and my tingling fingers.

  He turned to face me.

  "Don't you wish to lock me in?"

  He looked at me as if I were a simpleton. "On a ship? Where are you to go?"

  Where was I to go? There was no escape. I had three hours, then I was going to be Mrs. Abel Atherton.

  CHAPTER TWO

  ANDREW

  "I didn't think there were others like us," I said, glancing briefly at Robert, my closest friend and traveling companion, then to the men who were playing Poker with us. "I'll take two." I tossed down my worthless cards and was dealt the replacements—which, when I added them to my hand, weren't any better.

  "Others like you? You mean men who claim a woman together?" Whitmore Kane, a fancy English lord, sat relaxed in his chair, a cigar clamped between his fingers. For all of his fancy upbringing, he was now a soldier who'd abandoned his post along with the other three men who sat around the table with us. Abandoning your post was a dishonorable action in the military, one Robert and I could not tolerate, but these men had reasons. Serious and tenuous reasons. Kane, along with Ian, Brody and Mason, had all been stationed together as part of an English regiment in Mohamir, a small country near Egypt.

  "We'd imagined we were the only ones," Robert murmured. While there were other men in the ship's card room, none were paying us any mind. "While it's not unusual where you've been stationed in Mohamir, we're American. Unless a whore's up for a little extra fun, it isn't done."

  "British customs are perhaps far worse," Kane added, tipping his cigar's ashes into an ashtray. "I was supposed to marry Clara Dunsworth-Day, daughter of the third Earl of Arrandale. I assure you, she would not have been thrilled to see Ian waiting in the bridal suite."

  Ian grinned. "Aye, that lass was a wee bit frigid and I didna want to bed her, let alone cherish her my entire life. She wasna for us." Ian tilted his head toward Kane. "We'll find her. Kane and I will know her right off," Ian said, nodding his head. He sobered. "Whether you wanted to marry that frigid British lass or not, whether she'd like a good fucking by two brawny men, it was taken out of our hands by Evers."

  I arched a brow at Ian's dark tone, for that name was new to me. By the look on Robert's face, he had not heard it either.

  "Evers was our commanding officer. He killed an innocent Mohamiran family and shifted the blame to Ian." Kane tilted his head in his friend's direction.

  "Since a Scot is not well loved in England and a fair trial a slim chance, I chose to flee the country," Ian added.

  "The alternative, being hanged, wasn't an option." Kane tossed in a coin.

  I couldn't imagine how I'd feel if Robert were framed for a heinous crime. I'd protect him with my life. I'd go to another country and start over again, just as they were.

  "We hear the West has plenty of land and that the mountains are so tall they touch the clouds," Ian added.

  Robert shrugged. "I've heard that as well. I'm from Virginia, and Andrew's from Pennsylvania. Neither of us have been far from the eastern seaboard."

  "The Montana Territory is where we will settle," Kane said. "We will ranch—an American term—and we will call it Bridgewater."

  "Back to your comment, lads, nay, you two are not the only ones who will claim a bride together. We will embrace the Mohamiran custom as well." Ian looked to Kane and then Mason pointed between Brody and himself.

  Robert and I were on the ship with these men, sailing out of Portugal. We were returning to the United States after being stationed in Egypt for two years, finishing the last of our own time in the service. We'd had our last orde
rs and were ready to be free of command. We'd find that place to call home, claim the bride who would share it with us.

  "We've spent years in Mohamir, appreciating their custom of more than one man marrying a woman, but what's your reasoning?" Kane asked.

  "Andrew and I, we've known each other since the US war between the states." Over fifteen years had passed since we fought together. "Just like you Brits, we've seen good men die, their widows left homeless and penniless, their children begging for food. This is not something we could subject a woman to, therefore we decided we'd take a bride together."

  "To protect her," Ian added. I looked his way and all of the men at the table nodded their agreement.

  "Cherish her," Kane added. He asked for a card and Ian dealt him one.

  The coins were tossed into the middle of the table. Mason folded. The game progressed.

  "And yet here we all sit, bachelors playing Poker. This is not a way to woo a woman," Kane said, his English accent crisp, a smirk on his face.

  Robert tossed a coin into the middle, then glanced at me. "We've found her."

  We had, we just hadn't spoken much of it. We just… knew. "Yes," I agreed.

  The other men looked up from their cards to stare at us, surprised. There weren't many opportunities in the military to interact with women. "A lass on this ship?" Ian asked.

  We nodded. "Fair haired, a tiny thing. In first class."

  Robert and I were relegated to second class, our tickets purchased by the US government. As for the other men, many of them rich in their own right, they chose to blend into the boat's populace instead of drawing attention to themselves in the small group of first class passengers. While Ian was a wanted man and they'd been careful to travel incognito, they were cautious about leaving a trail for someone to follow.

  "Have you spoken with her?" Ian asked.

  "Not yet. We've been watching her," I replied.

  The first time I saw her, I'd stopped in my tracks. She had been on her knees on the wooden deck, petting a passenger's small dog. Her dress had matched the soft blue of her eyes and the wind whipped a wisp of her blonde hair into her face. She'd laughed out loud as the dog jumped up and licked her face.

  Her amusement had evaporated when two men came over to her. Her smile fell as she was publicly scolded by the older one. She was not a child; while her figure was small and slim, her woman's curves could not be missed beneath her fashionable dress. The man had to be her father, for they had the same color eyes. The other, I had no idea. The way he was looking at her it made it clear they were not related, yet the man had intentions toward her. Whether they were honorable or not was unclear.

  By the cut of her dress, the men's suits and their place in first class, she did not want for money. Money, though, did not buy happiness, for in that moment, she was definitely not happy. I didn't have to hear her voice to know. I didn't have to touch her soft body to know she was tense. I didn't have to hear her thoughts to know she didn't like her father's associate.

  As they'd passed us, her eyes met mine. Her cheeks were pale, her eyes dull with a level of dejectedness to which she seemed to be very familiar. I had to assume then that her joy with the dog had been a rare occurrence. I remained against the rail as she walked by with the men. When she looked at me, she stumbled and slowed her steps, her father continuing to talk to her in a low voice. I felt the heat, the sizzle of the connection. Her eyes, pale as they were, should have been cold, but everything about her was hot. When her father scolded her for losing her focus on him, she broke the connection with me and lowered her head as they continued on. She might be cold with her father, but she would be hot with me. With her between Robert and I, surely we would all burn up.

  "When Andrew pointed her out to me, it was impossible to look elsewhere. It's as if I've been stepped on by a camel."

  The men burst out in laughter.

  "What?" Robert glanced at the other men, then shook his head. "We were in Egypt for two years. There are camels there as much as in Mohamir." He grinned. "Very well. She is the most beautiful thing in the world. There is no question she belongs to me and Andrew."

  "None," I repeated. It was instantaneous, the knowledge that this woman belonged to us. "As you said, Ian, we knew her right off."

  "She is with a very controlling father," Robert added, all humor stripped from his voice. "A business associate is traveling with them, however, it is hard to avoid the way he looks at her."

  "Competition," Ian offered.

  We laid out our cards and Mason swept his winnings in front of him.

  "Competition? No. Annoyance, absolutely," I said. I thought of the odious man with the mustache and glasses. I knew the look, all men did, for it was a look of a man who wanted to fuck a woman. I doubted his thoughts were the least bit honorable. Society may dictate that he was not to touch her until wed, but I doubted he would hold to that mandate if she were not so closely monitored by her father. For Robert and I, we definitely intended to fuck her, but we would wait because our honor demanded it. "Once on land, we will learn more about her. Court her."

  "She will be ours," Robert vowed.

  Kane slapped me on the shoulder. "Good luck. It sounds as if you may need it."

  CHAPTER THREE

  ROBERT

  The water in the copper tub was just starting to cool. It had been worth every penny getting the porter to deliver it along with pails and pails of scalding water, even with my knees bent almost up to my chest. A bath was a treat not offered in the military and I looked forward to it on a regular basis once my commission was retired.

  I was just rinsing the soap from my arms when my door opened and shut with a flurry of pale green silk. My hands stilled, holding the dripping cloth as my eyes widened in surprise. It was her. For a second or two, she leaned back against the door as if someone were going to break it down, not paying me any mind. I saw the moment when her eyes found me in the tub.

  "Oh," she gasped, spinning back around and putting her hand on the door. Had she entered the wrong room? I knew her to be a first class passenger so her appearance on the lower level of the ship was unusual. What the hell was she doing here? I assumed she'd flee once she caught a glimpse of me, but she didn't. That was a telling sign. Whatever she was hiding from—and she had to be hiding from something—was worse than being alone in a cabin with a naked man in a tub.

  I stood up directly and she slapped a hand over her eyes and gasped. I worried more about the person who was bothering her than her virtue. Opening the cabin door, I stepped out into the hall. Since I was dripping wet and naked, it was fortunate that no one was about. Satisfied danger had not followed the woman, I returned to my room and closed the door.

  "Has someone been chasing you? No one is there now, but have you been threatened?" I asked. She still had her hand covering her eyes. "Is that why you remain?"

  "I remain because you are blocking my way and I can't see where I'm going with my eyes covered. I can't believe you went out into the hall like that. Are you still naked?"

  I grinned. Her voice was soft and melodic, and her innocence endearing. By her accent, she was American. I took a quick moment to study her. Her hair was the color of wheat, twisted up into a fancy and stylish knot at her nape. Her neck was long and slim, her entire body petite. Surely my hands would span her slim waist.

  "Yes."

  "Don't you wish to… to dress?"

  I grabbed my bathing towel and wrapped it about my waist. "I was in the bath when you barged in. I have to assume that since you chose my room, you are eager for my attentions. It is advantageous then that I'm already unclothed."

  She dropped her hand—just as I'd hoped—her eyes wide with surprise and indignation, but after she took a moment to look her fill, she looked away, her cheeks turning pink. Good, she's curious. While she might be a maiden, she certainly wasn't a cold one. Andrew and I had no doubt she'd be hot in bed and her reactions to me confirmed it.

  "I… I am not eager," she repl
ied. She gasped when she realized she'd been ogling and brought her hands back up over her eyes. "It's just that I… I mean, oh my…"

  While the air in the room was cold from my being wet, it did nothing to diminish my cock. It stood out clearly, even beneath the cover of the towel. There was no chance it would go down. Not with her standing before me and while I could breathe in her soft, feminine scent.

  Andrew came in through the door adjoining the rooms. "Ready for another night of—" He cut off his words when he saw the beautiful woman, saw me standing before her in just my towel. His eyes widened in surprise.

  "Hello," he offered, instead of finishing whatever he was going to tell me. He was wearing his uniform, ready for dinner. I just wore a towel, and had the woman we planned to marry standing before me. Andrew was unflappable. "I am Andrew."

  The woman lowered her hands, but kept her gaze clearly diverted to Andrew. "Has Robert introduced himself?" he asked.

  She shook her head, but tilted it a little more away from me.

  "No? He's usually more polite than that, but you did, I assume, interrupt his bath? Who might you be?"

  "Anne," she whispered.

  Anne.

  Only a few feet from her, I breathed in her floral scent. Soft and feminine, just like her. I itched to touch her, to stroke her hair and feel the silky strands beneath my fingers. I didn't dare, especially practically naked.

  "I won't hurt you." I held up one hand in front of me, the other securing the towel about my waist.

  "No, we won't hurt you," Andrew repeated.

  Her eyes darted to the door, then back at the two of us. "Humorous, isn't it?" she asked. "I'm safer in a stateroom with two men—one of them completely naked—than with my own father."

  I did not like her words, nor the tone with which they were given. A young woman should not be afraid of her own father. I looked her over. Her dress was of the latest fashion, a high, demure neckline, long sleeves with lace at the cuffs, a full skirt. The soft color showed off her pale complexion and equally fair hair perfectly. She was lovely, stunning even, and yet she was upset. My eager cock could wait.