Where There is Hope [Taos Wolven Mates 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 6

  If only this was all a dream, she could chalk it up to having some sort of strange wet dream and forget any of this ever happened. Somehow, though, she knew it was real. Somehow she was somewhere out west with these two strange and beautiful men, and she had suddenly turned into some sort of floozy.

  There was no way to explain what happened to her other than these two men kidnapped her. Yet if that was the case, why didn’t she feel kidnapped? She felt a lot of things, but kidnapped wasn’t one of them. She felt cherished, accepted, wanted and above all, for the first time in her life, she felt totally satisfied.

  Was it because Braxton knew what the hell he was doing with a woman or was it because of that strange mystic belonging they spoke of? Did she really belong with these two men?

  Hope snuck a glance at Joran with his muscular build, dark hair with sky-blue eyes. For a minute, she stared at his perfect, young face. What could they possibly want with her other than uncommitted sex? After all, she didn’t really want to spend the rest of her life with two men who were young enough to be her sons, did she? How long would it be before they got tired of her like Bob did? How long before their eyes began to stray while they were out together and how long would it take before they started sleeping with younger, prettier women?

  While Hope never was one to feel sorry for herself, she was one to face the truth, and the truth was, it was only a matter of time before these two tired of her and turned her in for a new model. That was exactly why she’d been the one to start this affair. She planned to have a good time while it lasted and she refused to let her heart get involved.

  Do you hear that, heart? You are expressly forbidden to fall in love with either of these guys.

  Hope took a deep breath after her private little pep talk and looked forward. She refused to think about it anymore today. Whatever happened would happen, and it was too late to worry about it now. “Where’s this town you guys are talking about?”

  “Right in front of us there.”

  Hope shaded her eyes with her hand. Where were her sunglasses when she needed them? “I don’t see a town. I see a few houses and some outbuildings. It looks like a small Amish settlement.”

  “That’s the town, Hope.” Joran patted her thigh. “Get ready for a welcome you’re not likely to forget. Any wolven warriors in town are likely to sniff you up and down while they determine whether or not you could be their mate.”

  “I’m no one’s mate.” When would they stop this silly charade? This little makeshift town in the middle of nowhere was not about to convince her to believe the impossible, for God’s sake.

  Braxton leaned forward, his lips brushing her ear. “You are our mate, little one. Be sure you remember that. You wouldn’t want to bring out the animal in us by encouraging another man.”

  Why in the world would she want to encourage another man with these two around? Two was enough for any woman to handle.

  “I don’t have any plans to flirt with other men.” She rolled her eyes. “What makes you two think I’m that much of a floozy? The fact that I’ve already allowed you to make me come and then let you…” She paused and blushed when she thought about what they’d just done. “Well those were isolated incidents. I generally don’t allow myself to do that sort of thing.”

  That was an understatement.

  She looked toward the town that didn’t look any more like a town the first time she’d seen it. There were no electric lines leading to or from any buildings, and no phone lines either. Yep. It sure looked like an Amish town.

  Clothes hung on lines behind a few of the houses and a few people walked along wooden sidewalks attached to the buildings. A few horses stood tied to hitching posts, but what drew her attention was the lack of children.

  Perhaps they couldn’t find any children who could stay in character long enough to bring out here.

  “Where are all the children?” She turned to give Joran a narrow-eyed look. “If this is a real town, it would have a school and children.” She crossed her arms in front of her and decided to give them the opportunity to tell her the truth. “You know, if you tell me the truth, I’d be willing to stay here with you for a while.” She smiled. “After all, what you two have proposed is almost every woman’s fantasy you know.”

  “Really?” Joran grinned then looked at Braxton. “It’s every woman’s fantasy.” He waggled his brows.

  “Hey. I said it’s almost every woman’s fantasy, not mine.” She felt her face grow warmer in the afternoon heat. “Just because most women have fantasized about it, doesn’t mean that I found the idea more than something intriguing.”

  Braxton leaned forward, pressed a kiss against the side of her neck that made her shiver and body parts to clench with anticipation. “Just so long as you keep finding it intriguing, baby.” He stuck his tongue in her ear, and she quivered. “I can’t wait to get both of us inside you at the same time. I want to feel Joran’s cock through your thin membrane, driving into you as I withdraw.”

  “Oh, God,” she whimpered. How would she ever resist them? She needed to be able to leave when she got the opportunity. Otherwise, she would never be able to live with herself when this was over with.

  The only way she could keep her self-respect was to keep telling herself she was only doing this to make sure she survived long enough to escape. These two men weren’t like her ex-husband. There was nothing weak or wimpy about either one of them. If they decided they didn’t want her around anymore, it wouldn’t take much for either one of them to snap her neck.

  Hope bit her lip. What in the world had she gotten into and how could she get out of it with as little injury as possible?

  Chapter Twelve

  Joran stopped at the edge of town and dismounted. Following suit, Braxton took Satan’s reins in hand and led his horse into town with Hope still on his back.

  “I’m sure a few people saw us coming, but the less we embarrass Hope at this point, the better.”

  Joran couldn’t have agreed more.

  Braxton headed for the hitching post outside the general store, looped the reins around the post and turned to help Hope down. He was too late. Joran had beat him to it. He appeared as though he envied him the close contact, though he shouldn’t. After all, he hadn’t been the one who had had the distinct pleasure of making love to their mate on the way into town.

  Looking down at the front of his pants, Joran willed his hard-on to go away. Though the town was filled with shifters, they all needn’t know that they had found their mate so soon. It was a secret he felt like holding close to his chest for a while. Besides, it appeared as though Hope didn’t like to hear that they belonged together.

  I’d rather not announce our connection to Hope right away. The talk of mating seems to bother her, and I don’t want to scare her away, he said through their telepathic connection.

  That’s fine by me. I’m not sure I’m ready to share her with the world right now anyway.

  With a curt nod in Braxton’s direction, Joran headed for the store. They needed to get all of the woman out of town and into one safe place they could guard easily. If their attackers were who he thought they were, they would go after the women with more zeal than they had the others.

  “Hello, Fleur,” Joran said as he tipped his hat to the young girl behind the counter. “Where are your stepmother and Joe?”

  “They are in the back doing inventory.” She made a face. “Maman Amelie is forever trying to guess what the townspeople will need next.” She rolled her eyes. “Now she wonders if she should buy the new big black stove in the catalogue.” She shook her head. “What is wrong with our stove? Nothing. And she doesn’t even use it. She makes me cook everything.”

  “Fleur!” Amelie clapped her hands and said something in French that made her stepdaughter blush.

  “Yes, Maman Amelie.” Fleur glanced at them, grabbed her skirt, and bobbed in place. “Excusez-moi,” Fleur said then stalked off muttering something under her breath. Braxton pressed his li
ps together, most likely in an attempt to keep a straight face. It seemed that teenagers were the same everywhere.

  The Frenchwomen were very colorful. He would give them that. Either of them would be a handful for any set of males. At least he hoped the two would find mates among their kind. He couldn’t imagine the town losing the two spunky women to death in just a few short years.

  “Can I help you gentlemen?” Amelie asked with a smile, her hands clasped in front of her waist. She flicked a glance toward Hope. “Perhaps a new dress or two for your lady?”

  Leave it to Amelie to figure out they’d found their mate. Over the last few months, she’d seen a few of the local women married off to human males visiting the town and sent on their way to live normal lives in San Francisco. Apparently, she had a nose for that sort of thing, wolven female or not. She was even correct in her assumption that Hope needed clothing. The woman was very perceptive. She had the instincts of one of their kind already. He couldn’t imagine what would happen if someone mated her and she became a true wolven female.

  “Yes, Miss Amelie, we are also here to take you to see the alpha and his mate. There is danger here, and we want you and Fleur safe. We must notify all of the women in town and get you all in one place.”

  Amelie looked toward the door that led to their private living quarters. “We had wondered if you would mind helping Hope with picking out a new wardrobe.”

  “Of course, gentlemen,” she said, with a friendly glance in Hope’s direction. “I would love to assist your lady while Fleur packs if you wouldn’t mind helping her with the bags when she is finished.” She clapped her hands several times, then reached over to a bell on the counter, picked it up and shook it. “Fleur,” she began when her stepdaughter hurried through the door.

  “Yes, Maman Amelie?”

  Gently, Amelie wrapped her arm around the girl. “The gentlemen have said there is danger and they wish us to go with them. Would you please pack our things quickly so they can take our bags out to the buckboard? Also, please tell Big Joe to hitch up the wagon and pack something so he can go with us. I would not forgive myself if something were to happen to him.”

  With a nod, Fleur hurried form the room and Braxton moved to follow.

  “Stay here with the women while they shop, Joran. I don’t want to leave them unguarded.”

  “I won’t let them out of my sight.” Anyone wanting to attack their mate would have to go through him first, and Joran Keavy, a Taos warrior through and through, was a force to be reckoned with.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Hope stared at the inside of the store. Large bags of flour sat on a shelf, cloth bags labeled beans and sugar stacked on either side. A few kerosene lanterns graced a table next to bottles of oil just waiting for someone to need them. At the corner of the counter was a large barrel that smelled of pickles, and in the back corner were a few racks with ready-made clothing and several bolts of colorful material.

  The large, beveled glass windows in the front let in sunlight negating the need for overhead lights. How convenient. Was the entire town living some sort of reenactment?

  “I am Amelie,” the French woman said as she held out her hands. “Please allow me to apologize for the lack of introduction.” She turned her head in Joran’s direction and lowered her voice. “They are men and seem to always lack manners, do they not?”

  She had to hand it to them. If this woman wasn’t really French, she sure had the accent down pat and so did the younger woman, Fleur. Hope wasn’t sure, but the other woman acted younger, perhaps like a teenager, though she looked as though she could have been in her early twenties.

  Either these people were wonderful actors or she really was—Stop it, Hope. Don’t even think it. If you think it you might start to believe it and that way lay madness. She really would be mad to start believing that she had really traveled back in time.

  “I’m sorry.” She smiled at Amelie. “My name is Hope.”

  “Hope?” Amelie tilted her head as she looked at her. “Such a beautiful name. If I ever have a little girl I should like to call her Hope. Would you mind?”

  “Just so long as you don’t call her Hopeful.”

  “Psssht. Hopeful is a ridiculous name. Who would call their daughter Hopeful as though she should be full of hope all of her life?” She shook her head. “No. I would call her Hope so she could bring hope into others’ lives.” She smiled a bit wistfully. “A child of my own would surely bring hope into my life.”

  At least the woman wouldn’t saddle her daughter with a ridiculous name. That was a good sign that she wasn’t as crazy as Hope thought. Perhaps this was just another job to those who did it on a regular basis.

  “I thought Fleur was your daughter?”

  “Fleur? Oh, my. No she is my stepdaughter. I married her father several years before he expired and we have been together since.” She looked toward the back of the store. “She has no one else to teach her the ways of the world, and I fear that if I left her alone, a man would take advantage of her.” She shook her head. “I must stay with her until she is safely married to a man or men of good character.”

  “Men?” Hope frowned. “You would marry her off to more than one man?”

  “Of course!” Amelie fanned her hands in front of her face. “Not only are these wolf-men so very handsome, but they are true gentlemen and protectors of all.”

  “I’m not sure I know what you mean.” Hope didn’t know if she wanted to know what Amelie meant. She didn’t want to stay here. At best, she wanted to stay long enough to have one hell of a fling with the two gorgeous men who kidnapped her, and then she wanted to go back to her boring life.

  Liar!

  Hope wanted to tell that little voice inside her to shut up and mind its own business. The only problem with that was, it was a part of her and as such, this was its own business.

  “What do you think of this dress?” Amelie held up a hunter green dress made of silk and lace. It wasn’t practical for what she wanted it for, namely escape, but what could she tell the woman?

  “It’s not practical, is it?”

  Amelie gave a one-shouldered shrug. “It is beautiful and that is all that matters to the men here. They do not want you to be practical. The most strenuous thing they will have you do is cook for them. If you cannot cook, they will hire a cook for you.” She winked. “They do not want you for physical labor that they themselves can do. They want you for their hearts, for their children.” She leaned close and lowered her voice. “For their bed.”

  “They have children?” Why hadn’t she seen any? “If they think there’s danger, why didn’t they head straight for their children instead of coming here?”

  “Ha-ha! You silly girl. They have no children. They will want you to bear them.”

  “I–I can’t have children.” Why did the thought suddenly make her want to cry? She didn’t really believe they brought her here to become their wife. For one thing, it was illegal, no matter what time they found themselves in.

  “Do not worry, Hope. Have faith that when they mate you and make you one of their kind, the change will heal you and you will bear their babies.” Amelie moved to pat her on the back, her mood suddenly somber.

  “Now,” she said, with a clap of her hands. “Let us find you a wardrobe any wolf-man would be proud of.” Amelie turned back to the rack that held the ready-made items and pulled five dresses in assorted colors and styles from the bunch. “These should do nicely, don’t you think?”

  Not waiting around for an answer, she took them to the counter, laid them down and headed for a small room off the main shopping area. “This is where I keep the women’s unmentionables. You would not believe the way the men looked at the things when they were out in the main room.” She clucked her tongue. “The men, they do so want mates. I am sad for them.”

  She picked out seven sets of pantaloons, three long, shirt-like garments, two corsets, and several petticoats, all the while ignoring Hope’s protests that
she wouldn’t be caught dead wearing most of what she picked out.

  “Hush, Miss Hope. Of course you will be a proper lady. Otherwise, men passing through town might mistake you for a loose woman. Only a loose woman would go out without the proper underthings.” She smiled. “Though you do not wear the proper things now, I know you are not a painted lady. I can tell these things. After all, I am French!”

  Hope wanted to laugh at the other woman’s antics as she flitted about the store, grabbing hair ribbons and pins, stockings and shoes.

  “You cannot wear those shoes.” She wrinkled her nose at the clunky black shoes the men provided for her. Following Amelie over to another area of the store, Hope pressed her lips together when she saw the shoes the French woman was so proud to have on display.

  “You see these?” She held up a black, ankle-length boot with a two-inch heel. The laces fed through six sets of eyes then laced up the ankles with hooks.

  Hope couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen anything but a pair of ice skates that laced up the way the shoes did. Where did they get this stuff, from a costume shop?

  Whatever. She would let the woman pick out what clothes she would, because that was what she was supposed to do with newcomers, apparently. It wasn’t as though they couldn’t wash the things and bring them right back here when she was through with them. This was a reenactment, not real life, for God’s sake.

  “This is the last thing you need,” Amelie said, picking up a large bag that looked as though it was made out of someone’s gaudy red-and-gold rug. “A satchel to pack your things in.” She looked up at the counter with a frown then looked back at the bag. “This will not do. It is not big enough.” She set the bag back down and moved down the aisle a bit. “Here we are.” She picked up one end of a trunk and started dragging it to the front.

  “Here let me help.” Hope rushed to the other end and tried to pick it up. It weighed a ton and it was empty! Man, either she’d grown weak, or this woman was strong. “Holy cow! This is heavy.”