“In a technical sense?” Carolyn wasn’t letting him get away with that. “It is
definitely
illegal for a woman to have two husbands in the state of Texas, and not just in a technical sense!”
“You could marry one of us publicly and have a joint ceremony privately. The only question is, do you want to have two husbands?” Grange interjected smoothly. “Do you want to be our wife?”
Carolyn was stunned. She couldn’t possibly form a response to that. That would be as good as admitting that she wanted them, had often fantasized about them , and was inappropriately jealous of any woman they spoke to for more than two minutes…It would be admitting that she was in love with both of them.
“I can’t possibly…in Texas…have two husbands.” Her voice sounded weak to her own ears.
“Don’t think about legal or illegal, or whatever other people say is right or wrong.” Grange took her hands in his and knelt on the floor before her.
Still very naked, her feminine senses noted.
“For once, please think only about what Carolyn wants. That’s all. Just what you want. I love you, and Isaac loves you. We hope that you love us, too.”
Isaac got down on one knee beside Grange and claimed one of her hands for his own. “We’ve told you what we want. Whatever you want, baby, it’s yours,” Isaac said, his brown eyes serious on hers. “If you want to marry us, we’ll both be thrilled, but if you want us to leave you alone, let you go…we will.”
It was clear to Carolyn that Isaac had a hard time getting those words out, hated saying them, and that meant more to her than any glib speech ever could. It seemed that she really could state exactly what she wanted in her life and that these two incredible men kneeling at her feet would make sure that she got it. Amazing.
“We’ll even step back and let you be with someone else, marry someone else,” Isaac said. Then his mouth twisted. “Even that skinny executive your father picked out, if that’s what you want. Just tell us what you want, baby, and it’s yours.”
Carolyn drew in a breath and grabbed for the courage to take what she wanted for herself.
“Yes, I love you,” she said and dropped to her knees between her men. “Yes, I’ll marry you. Both of you. Yes, yes, yes.” She punctuated each little word with kisses to Grange’s face, then Isaac’s, then Grange’s again, until the men realized that she was agreeing to their proposal and pounced.
Hard, gentle hands peeled her silk dress off and tossed it, Isaac had his tuxedo pants off in seconds, and then they were all completely, blissfully nude.
Mouths met in hunger, soft whispers became cries of need, and bodies rubbed and pressed.
They rolled together, and Carolyn found herself suspended over Isaac’s rampant cock, with his strong hands guiding her hips down to absorb him into her dripping pussy. When he was fully seated and throbbing against her womb, he set up a smooth, racing rhythm that made her sensitive nerve endings shriek in pleasure.
Beside Isaac’s head, Grange was on his knees with one fist gripping his swollen erection near her face, and she leaned slightly to the side so that she could engulf the flared head with her hot mouth. His big body jolted at the first soft touch, but he soon settled into her tempo, sinking long fingers into her hair.
Isaac’s wicked pace gave her the perfect speed to torture Grange, pushing her tightly pursed lips back and forth over his rim, creating a ceaseless friction. A few heated strokes made him lose his fabled control and groan and curse with reverent appreciation.
As the sun came up over the distant hills, its first rays shone through the living room window to bathe their writhing bodies in golden light. Carolyn, shaking and screaming with blissful ecstasy between her two magnificent lovers, took it as a blessing.
Chapter 9
It was almost eight in the morning by the time that Carolyn pulled Isaac’s truck into her driveway so she could change her clothes for work. Isaac had ridden in to work early with Dash, DIG’s other partner who also lived on the ranch, planning to meet up with them later at the office.
Her hair was in a ponytail, and she was wearing one of Grange’s T-shirts and a pair of his jogging shorts with Isaac’s jacket and her strappy gold heels from the night before. It was a bizarre outfit, but still a far superior option compared to her sadly wrinkled silk gown.
She should have just enough time to get ready for work, since she had showered with the men at the ranch, and she lived only a few blocks from the DIG Security building.
As Grange pulled in behind her, she jumped out, instinctively reaching for the gun that she didn’t carry anymore. She almost swore when her hand came back empty.
Her front door was standing open, and her front window was shattered.
Conn Reilly, one of the fiercest and most dangerous agents at DIG, limped a bit as he walked out the front door slowly, making sure that his hands were in plain view at all times. His wild red hair glowed like a torch in the bright sunlight. He had been wounded in the leg during an attempted assassination several weeks before, and he was still on light duty.
He really should have his cane with him, Carolyn thought inanely.
“Granger,” he said, nodding a greeting. “Carolyn.”
Grange had come up fast and stood directly behind her, one big hand resting on her arm. It was subtle as statements go, but she saw Conn’s startling blue eyes flash to that hand, take in Isaac’s jacket, then jump to Grange’s face. Whatever he saw there had him nodding again in acknowledgement.
He drew himself up and gave his report.
“Carolyn’s south window alarm sounded at six a.m., and we couldn’t raise her on the cell or the DIG pager,” he began, his hint of an Irish brogue somewhat more pronounced than usual.
Grange’s hand tightened on her arm, and Carolyn realized that at six, she had been firmly entwined between her two fiancés and enjoying the brilliant Texas sunrise in anew way. Her cheeks warmed, but she said nothing. Looking at the destruction of her beloved wide custom window, she was momentarily incapable of speech.
“Of course, the guys on watch were panicked and planning to start World War Three, so I volunteered to come over immediately,” Conn continued. “Her front window was smashed, and there’s a big brick on the floor in the living room, obviously used for the smash. Doesn’t look like anything was taken, but Carolyn will have to take a good look around.”
He shifted his weight, grimacing as he did so. “There’s some interesting, though not very original, graffiti on the brick, but the place is clear. No sign of an intruder. Sorry, but I picked the locks on the front door myself to get in. Bloody terrible set of locks, took me a bare few seconds,” he said as an aside to Grange, from one talented break-and-enter artist to another.
“I do have a deadbolt as well,” she felt compelled to say, but Conn waved off her comment. On second thought, a deadbolt wouldn’t have kept him out. It would only have annoyed him until he could finesse it open with his magic fingers. Grange had the same almost spooky gift with gears and tumblers.
“That new Sheriff Ivars and his deputy have been and gone already. He’s a right one, but the deputy is a blazing idiot. Made a comment about the graffiti that I didn’t like, but the sheriff soon put him right. I told Ivars that Carolyn was with you, Grange, so he’s probably on his way out to the ranch about now. Sorry.”
Conn shrugged his wide shoulders. The man was built on a massive scale. It was as if an ancient Celtic warrior had been dropped into Texas clad in denim and leather instead of a kilt. Carolyn thought the modern clothing made him all the more dangerous, camouflaging the serious and aggressive fighter underneath.
“Well, and I didn’t figure you wanted everyone at the office to know, but the sheriff was all set to send out a search party to find her, and that would be bloody pointless when I knew precisely where the lady was.”
“Thanks, Conn. Fine work, as always. Much appreciated.”
Grange’s voice followed Carolyn as she walked dazedly up her front steps and into her home.
There was glass everywhere, and the large yellow brick was visible from the entryway, as was the word
slut
painted on it in bright red block letters. It was painted in red to look like blood. It was shiny and it looked like...nail polish?
SLUT.
Carolyn moved closer, careful not to touch anything as she looked at the top of the brick.
BITCH.
The opposite side said CUNT.
Insulting, but as Conn had said, not terribly original.
She heard the men come in behind her, but she didn’t turn. Her brain was working, making an unlikely connection, while her eyes seemed to be drawn again and again to that brick.
“Yesterday,” she said slowly.
Grange and Conn waited, saying nothing, letting her think.
“Yesterday, my office was out of order. Nothing was missing, no confidential papers touched, but…it felt wrong. I think someone was in there.”
Carolyn turned to look at Grange. “I brushed it off at the time because I was already off my stride. But it could be important.” She gestured to the shattered window.
Grange pulled out his cell and pressed a button. “Isaac, where are you? Glad you’re at the office because—you’ve already heard about her window?…Yeah, and someone was possibly in Carolyn’s office yesterday. Get a team on it. And keep it quiet, if you can. I don’t like this. If it started within our office…”
Conn waved his hand in front of Grange and tapped his own chest.
“Make sure Conn is listed as team lead. He’s here with us now.”
“I want Burgess and Morse over here, if they’re available,” Conn said.
Grange relayed Conn’s request, listened for a moment more, and grimaced. His uncanny silver eyes locked on Carolyn’s with laser-like intensity.
“Fuck, are you sure?” he asked into the phone. Isaac’s response made him swear again.
He passed the phone to Conn and moved to pull Carolyn into his embrace. She hadn’t realized how chilled she was until his warm arms surrounded her. His heart beating against her cheek soothed and distracted her, so that she almost didn’t register his comment.
“I’m so sorry, honey,” he said. “Isaac and Charlotte are in your office right now. Your pet canary is dead.”
Carolyn just looked up at him. “Pavarotti was fine yesterday,” she said, uncomprehending. “He was singing with all his heart. How could he become so seriously ill so quickly? He’s a young bird, only a year old, the poor thing.”
Grange tightened his arms and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “Isaac says his neck was broken. Someone has been in your office, and he left Pavarotti as a sick message.”
Feeling ill herself, Carolyn shivered and pressed closer to Grange.
Her home, her office, and her pet had all been attacked in a short time.
“This isn’t a business related issue. It can’t be. I’ve made someone angry, deeply angry,” she said. “It’s personal.”
Grange nodded. “Yeah, it’s personal,” he agreed.
“I’m the target this time,” she said softly.
Grange rubbed her back in slow circles but said nothing.
Chapter 10
Isaac finished the team arrangements with Conn and flipped his phone closed. He stood amid the destruction in Carolyn’s usually pristine office and swore viciously.
“Yes, I think you said that already,” Charlotte said wryly, glancing his way as she moved about the office dusting for prints. Charlotte Morse was one of their longest-serving employees, notoriously close-mouthed and calm in every crisis. In Isaac’s opinion, that made her the perfect agent.
“This was personal,” he said through his teeth.
“I agree. No way did a professional toss this room. There’s no pattern to it.”
“And the bird—its neck was snapped. Murdering a pet is personal. Some bastard is after Carolyn.”
His voice held a killing fury. Just thinking of Carolyn having to witness the twisted little body of her beloved pet enraged him. The sight of it, its neck broken, its tiny head lolling as he carefully bagged it for evidence, would stay with him for some time.
Criminals who fixated on one person, who tortured and killed that person’s pet, were often found to be fantasizing about doing the same to the person. Wanting their victim to understand the threat that what was done to the pet would soon be done to the owner.