Love Under Two Loners [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 3

  “I’ll bet you helped him get ready for that move,” Rich said.

  “Why wouldn’t I?” Iris sighed. “He was a little curmudgeonly, but that was just his way. There really was no one else to help him, and he’d done so much for me over the years. I was happy to be of service.”

  Rich and Donny looked at each other for a moment, and Iris wondered at the expressions they wore. Then Rich turned his head slightly and caught her gaze with his own.

  She couldn’t explain why she looked down. It had been a compulsion she couldn’t fight. Coward! Look him in the eye. She inhaled and did just that—and couldn’t understand the sense of smug satisfaction he wore. One minute they’d been undressing her with their eyes, and the next they looked like…Lords surveying a servant. Okay, my imagination is getting the better of me.

  “Iris.” She snapped her attention back to Donny.

  “Yes, sir?” The response was ingrained, automatic, a response she’d grown up giving to all men who were strangers, or older than herself. She had no idea why it put a sparkle in Donny’s eye.

  Maybe coming from New York he’s not used to being treated with respect.

  “I’d like to hire you to be my assistant. We won’t be opening for a few weeks, but I could use your help almost immediately.”

  The two men, sitting side by side the way they were, exuded a one-two punch of potent masculinity. She couldn’t really believe for one moment that either one of them would be interested in her beyond her ability to assist Donny in his veterinary practice.

  She was being fanciful in her thoughts. And then she recalled where she was. Maybe that’s why I keep seeing pictures of myself naked and on my knees before them. No, that likely had come from the book her newest friend, Jillian, had given her to read. She’d been curious about Jill’s lifestyle and her relationship with her husbands—two men she clearly adored. Why do I get the same vibe from these men than I get from Robert and David Jessop? The answer to that question rushed her thoughts, as if they’d been waiting for her to ask. More sexy images swamped her, and she had to close her eyes for one moment and dig deep. Iris did her best to lock those images away. She also made a note to ask Tam if anyone had ever had the water tested here in town.

  She reminded herself that Donny was waiting for her answer. “Thank you. I accept.”

  “Without even asking what I’m going to pay you?” Donny’s eyes were laughing, and Rich was smiling, even as he was shaking his head.

  She held her hands out, palms up. “Whatever you offer will be fair because if it wasn’t and your aunt Samantha got wind of that…” Since she was laughing, she let the sentence end there.

  Both men chuckled. “She has a point,” Rich said.

  “How about you come on out to the place Monday morning, around nine? Tamara knows where we are. She can give you directions. The clinic is currently undergoing renovations, but I’ve set up an office in the house. We can talk suppliers and such and take care of the paperwork.”

  “I’ll be there.” Brave words. Iris didn’t know if a month of Sundays would see her ready for either or both of the Doctors Kendall, but the point was moot. Consequences be damned, she was moving forward, anyway.

  * * * *

  Rich and Donny accepted Robert and David Jessop’s invitation for an after-party drink. Rich thought the evening had gone even better than he’d dared to expect. Of course, there were the expected salvos about the two of them, now bachelors, moving into the Bachelor Uncles’ former home. He had to admit that his Lusty cousins were far subtler at taking shots than his New York ones had ever been.

  But that could just be because there were so many more of them and they’d had lots and lots of practice.

  “Give her here, sweetheart. I’ll put her to bed.” David Jessop reached over and lifted little Colleen from her mom’s shoulder, tucking her in snugly before heading for the stairs.

  Robert led the way into their den, a very amenable room that had two large desks, an even larger television, and comfortable leather furniture.

  “Beer? Rye? Bourbon?” he asked.

  “Beer’s good for me,” Rich said. “Especially if it’s Texas beer. I had some Shiner a couple days ago at Aunt Samantha’s. It was pretty good.”

  “Better than what you have in New York?” Robert asked.

  “Not really,” Donny said. “Back in New York we drank a lot of Labatt’s Blue. That’s—”

  “Canadian. I’ve had it. We spent several years in Chicago, and one of the places we’d sometimes have supper always stocked it.” Then he looked over at his wife. “Sweetheart?”

  “I guess it’s beer all around.” She smiled and accepted the bottle—and the kiss—her husband gave her.

  They all could hear the soft murmurs of David Jessop over the baby monitor as he changed his daughter and put her to bed. Like all of the recent fathers in this town, the Jessops adored their baby and were hands-on daddies.

  Rich was getting used to the tiny twinge of envy he felt whenever he saw any of his cousins with their little ones. He’d wanted to be a father, and he knew Donny felt the same way. He guessed that, all things considered, it was a blessing that hadn’t happened for either of them yet.

  Divorce was difficult enough without adding children into the mix.

  A few minutes later, David joined them in the den, and they all got comfortable.

  “I noticed you both seemed to be having a fairly in-depth conversation with Tamara’s friend, Iris.” Jillian looked from him to Donny then re-directed her attention to him.

  He already knew that Jillian and Tamara were fast friends. He didn’t mind Jillian’s question, as likely Iris had become her friend recently, too.

  “Tamara set us up. She said Iris would be perfect for us, and then she handed Donny her résumé.” It didn’t take the mention of the woman’s name to bring her to mind. The truth was Rich hadn’t been able to get the pretty blonde off his mind. He’d wanted to remove the scrunchie and pins and sink his fingers into that mass of curly hair. He wanted to strip her clothes away and gaze for hours at her curves—soft, womanly curves that definitely got him hard.

  He wanted to help her discover her inner submissive, because he was convinced she was a sub down to her bones.

  “Oh. You were talking about the veterinary clinic.”

  Jillian’s teasing tone pulled Rich away from his lascivious thoughts. He shot a quick look at Robert, who hid his smile behind his beer. He thought he recovered smoothly. “That’s what we were talking about, yes,” he said.

  “I’ve asked her to come to the house on Monday so we can seal the deal and get started on setting up the clinic,” Donny said.

  “We’ll wait a day or two before we talk to her about…other things.”

  “She doesn’t know,” Jillian said.

  I’m not the only one who’s recognized Iris. “No, she doesn’t know that she’s a submissive,” Rich agreed. “Right now, we have no idea if she’d even be interested in exploring that facet of her personality.”

  “We’ll have to go slowly, Rich. I don’t want the one to interfere with the other. She’ll need a contractual assurance that whatever happens between us personally doesn’t affect her position as my assistant.”

  “Agreed.” Rich was sensitive to Donny’s concerns, and those, for the moment, took precedence. He tilted his head and looked at Jillian. She returned his stare. The room’s inset lighting made the gems in her collar sparkle. When he’d met her for the first time—hard to believe it was only a couple of weeks ago—he’d identified the circle around her neck for what it was. That had led to some private conversations between him and Donny with Robert and David. Now he focused on the lady of the house. If Robert and David lived the lifestyle twenty-four-seven, he’d have asked their permission before engaging their sub in conversation. But they didn’t, and oddly, that reassured Rich. “When Tamara said Iris was perfect for us, she had an interesting little twinkle in her eye. Do you think she meant…?” He let
his question trail off and waited to see what his cousin—who also happened to be a sub—would say to that.

  “Do I think Tam meant that Iris was a sub and, in her opinion, would be the perfect sub for you two Doms? Quite probably. Tam has extremely good people sense. And we’ve talked, so she knows a little about subs because she knows me. She hasn’t said as much, but she likely has figured out that Iris has submissive tendencies. Or maybe…it’s more that she senses her good friend is looking for more than a job. Even if Iris doesn’t know it.” She let her gaze drift down, as if she was considering whether or not to say more. “Iris asked me about the D/s relationship. I gave her a book to read, one written by a couple who live the lifestyle.”

  “So she has some idea what the lifestyle is all about. That’s very good to know.” Rich couldn’t keep the pleasure in knowing that from his voice.

  “We don’t have to tell you to be careful,” David said. “Aunt Samantha has taken Iris under her considerably powerful wing.”

  “No, you don’t have to tell us that,” Rich said. “Just watching the way our aunt interacted with Iris tonight showed us as much.”

  “What’s your schedule like for this coming week?” Robert asked.

  “I have an interview for a position with a private girls’ college just east of Waco on Tuesday.”

  “The Edwina Claymore College?” David asked.

  “Yes. I asked Uncle Preston about the school. He said that while it’s not as robust as it was under the school’s founder, it’s still a solid institution.”

  “I believe it’s now run by Miss Edwina’s daughter,” Robert said.

  “My appointment is with Miss Edith Claymore.”

  “Well, good. And good it’s Tuesday. I’ve heard from Christopher Lyons. He’s invited us to join him on Thursday evening. Houston’s far enough away you might consider staying over at Benedict Towers with us and coming back on Friday.”

  Christopher Lyons was the owner of a private BDSM club in Houston, The Lyon’s Den. He and Donny had been hoping to find a club here in Texas. Their regular visits to the Dragon’s Lair had become an important part of their routine. They hoped Mr. Lyons would invite them to join his club.

  He met his brother’s gaze and knew the other thing they’d been going to ask the man—if he knew of any subs in need of a couple of Doms—was a question they’d hold off on, for now.

  They hadn’t had a chance to talk it over, but Richard thought his brother had been as drawn to Iris as he had been. There was just something about Iris Gibbs that not only called out to the dominant within but tugged on his deep need to nurture.

  “Benedict Towers?” Donny asked.

  Robert grinned. “There’s a bit of a learning curve once you decide to become a part of the family here in Lusty. I’m going to enjoy watching the two of you navigate that curve.”

  Rich had to admit he was looking forward to that himself, but not as much as he was looking forward to spending some time with Iris on Monday.

  Chapter 3

  “You have two new applications for scholarships. May I have the files, please?”

  Edith Claymore didn’t particularly want to hand those files to the man sitting across the desk from her. But what choice did she have? Her movements measured, precise, she lifted the two folders and offered them.

  Victor Swift didn’t even say thank you. He simply took the files and began to look them over. Edith sat quietly behind her desk, the desk of the Headmistress of the Edwina Claymore College for Women. It was the same desk her mother had occupied for over forty years, and right this moment, Edith felt the weight of the responsibility of that legacy weigh heavy on her shoulders.

  She’d begun to hear her mother’s voice whispering in her ear that she had bastardized her legacy. Perhaps she had. But if she couldn’t continue to operate the school, her mother’s legacy would be completely lost. Surely some legacy preserved was better than none?

  “Well, this one is a wash. She’s overweight and not very attractive. No market for her in the work program.”

  Work program. What an interesting euphemism. Stopping her thought there, unwilling to call a spade a spade even in the privacy of her mind, Edith girded her loins. She had thought that would be the man’s response to that particular candidate. She really wanted the young woman, Sally Mills, as a student. The girl was brilliant. Edith wouldn’t be surprised to learn, once they got her here, that she was, in fact, a prodigy. A prodigy who’d gone undiscovered because she’d been born into poverty and been allowed to slip between the cracks. Until now. “Yes, I understand. But I thought since you’d said in the beginning that we needed to be careful, to appear to be assisting all types of young women, that Miss Mills would be a good…decoy.”

  Victor looked up from his perusal of the second candidate, Barbara Lucas, and focused again for a moment on the first. Then he met Edith’s gaze.

  “You have a point. Miss Mills does have a very high score, academically speaking.” Then he tilted his head to the side. “And you really want her here.”

  To produce a graduate of the caliber that she knew Miss Mills would prove to be would be a grand feather in the cap of any educational institution.

  We might become more famous and coveted, and I could tell Victor Swift to go to hell.

  Edith had rarely thought such a bold thought, and the color that flooded her cheeks was a damning clue she hoped he couldn’t understand. Unable to speak, she cast her eyes downward and nodded. Let him think she was showing respect to his great male self. She didn’t really care, as long as she got what she wanted.

  “Very well. I will grant you this favor. We’ll offer a full scholarship to Miss Mills, but I will require a favor from you in turn.”

  A knot of dread formed at the bottom of Edith’s stomach, a knot she knew had nothing at all to do with the oatmeal she’d consumed that morning.

  “And that favor would be?”

  “Marcia Crane.”

  Edith sat back and folded her hands in her lap. Marcia had been on scholarship for the last year and a half. She’d done well academically and had shown no signs of distress in fulfilling the work requirements of her scholarship.

  Quite the opposite. It seemed to Edith that the young woman relished her weekly duties—if the smug grin on Marcia’s face when she returned in the wee hours was any indication.

  “What about Miss Crane?”

  “I’m working on a full-time situation for the woman, one that will be profitable for us both. When the deal is done, you’ll simply tell any and all who inquire that Miss Crane left the school, that she was eager to be off on her own and you have no idea where she’s gone.”

  “Surely you don’t mean to…to harm her?”

  “Of course not. Where would be the profit in that? You don’t need the details, Miss Claymore. All you need is my assurance that she will enjoy her new circumstance. In fact, I predict she’ll be so happy she’ll be on her knees giving thanks to her benefactor every single day for the rest of her life.”

  “I see.” It wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to report a young woman as having left the college precipitous of graduation. Her students were all of legal age, all pursuing courses that would either gain them entrance into a master’s degree university course or prepare them for suitable careers.

  Edith didn’t waste any time speculating on the nature of the arrangement Victor Swift had in mind for Miss Crane. It was reasonable to assume the girl would enjoy the position, as she believed Marcia Crane enjoyed every position—many Edith hadn’t even heard of and didn’t even want to imagine.

  “Very well. I shall be sad to announce to the student body that Miss Crane has left us when, in fact, she does.”

  “Excellent. I’ll have the scholarship funds wired into the school’s account this afternoon.”

  Victor Swift handed over the files then sat back. Edith had hoped the man would have a pressing duty to attend to, as she had another appointment shortly.

  “I
was sorry that I was unable to attend Dr. Broderick’s funeral. The loss of any member of the faculty has to be a blow to the entire college, students as well as staff.”

  “After some consideration, the staff and I decided it would be appropriate that whoever wished to attend the memorial be allowed to do so. Patrick Broderick was well liked here. His sudden death as the result of that horrific car crash was a shock to us all.”

  “Did the police ever determine what exactly happened?” Victor looked genuinely interested.

  “The last I heard, the police believed the man fell asleep behind the wheel, subsequently losing control of the vehicle just as he approached the underpass.” Edith shuddered. Patrick Broderick had been just forty-five, a bachelor, no family to speak of, at least none close by. She’d been fond of him and had even, for a time, thought that Cupid might finally make an appearance in her life. That hadn’t happened, however. In the five years he’d been on staff, he’d earned her respect, and they’d become friends.

  “It’s likely going to be difficult for you to find a replacement this far into the school year, as it is. I’m very sorry that’s so.”

  Edith seized on the conversational opportunity. “Actually, I have a gentleman coming tomorrow for an interview for the position of head of the English department. I do believe it’s very true that when the Lord closes one door he opens another. Dr. Richard Kendall, a recent victim of the economic cutbacks in New York, has relocated here to be with family in Benedict County. He’s a Rhodes scholar and holds a doctorate in literature. He’s divorced, and that is a slight mark against him, but otherwise, he’s practically perfect.”

  Victor frowned for just a moment. Then his expression cleared. “He could be divorced for reasons that have nothing to do with himself. It takes two to make a marriage but only one to blow it up.”

  Edith didn’t want to think of the reason Swift had said such a thing. Personal experience? No, she didn’t want to know anything personal about the man. She wanted to be rid of him and wished with all her heart that she’d never made that original deal with the devil in the first place.