Everett smiled, but as Marcus returned the expression he knew in his heart that even a day of giving in could wreck his world. In fact, he knew it likely would. And yet, he was ready to make that sacrifice. Because his need was stronger than his mind in that moment and there was no avoiding it anymore.
Naomi paced her chamber, unable to be still since the maid had left her a quarter of an hour before. It wasn’t physical discomfort that set her so on edge. The chamber Marcus had prepared for her was lovely, with a fine view of the garden behind the house. The fact that his room was just next door was a distraction, but also a comfort.
And it wasn’t the new servant that put her mind to distraction either. The girl, Hester, was kind and friendly. She had helped Naomi dress and did her hair in a lovely fashion.
No, there was no denying it. What made her mind wander was the two men downstairs. What had Everett said to her in the carriage?
We share.
It was all she could think about now. She knew what sharing meant in a sexual sense. She’d watched it in the Donville Masquerade. It didn’t mean taking turns, at least not usually. What Everett had meant was that he and Marcus made love to a woman at the same time.
Her. They wanted to make love to her. Together.
She shivered at the thought, then shook her head. It was time to go join them for supper and she had to clear her mind to focus. That was the only option here and now. Focus.
She slipped from the bedroom and down the stairs. Verrick was at the bottom, speaking to a footman, and he directed her to the dining room. She moved along the halls, taking in the sparse, sophisticated decoration of Marcus’s home, at odds with his big, muscular body. She’d somehow expected a man like that to fill his halls with darker things.
But he wasn’t exactly as he seemed. She was already keenly aware of that.
She entered the dining room and found Everett and Marcus were already there. They stood at once as she came to a halt, and suddenly two pairs of eyes were flitting over her. Their regard pulsed through her, teasing and taunting her with the promise of what would happen if she surrendered to them.
“G-good evening,” she stammered.
“Naomi,” Everett said, stepping forward. “You look lovely.”
She glanced down. Whoever had sent along her things had only packed two gowns, both for mourning. But the black did have a faint pattern, almost like lace. She didn’t hate it, though she missed color already. Her life had featured so much loss, so much trauma. It sometimes felt like black was all she’d ever wear again.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
Everett offered an arm and she took it. The moment she touched him, electric energy seemed to jolt between them. He didn’t say anything about it, though, and neither did she as he took her to the head of the table and offered her that place.
“Shouldn’t it be Marcus who sits here?” she asked, shooting him a glance.
His dark brown eyes moved over her a second time and he smiled faintly. “I think we like you between us.”
She blushed as she took the place. Everett sat to her left, Marcus to her right, and immediately the footman delivered the first course for supper, a soup. She barely tasted it as she began to eat.
Once the servant had gone, Marcus tilted his head. “Everett informed me of the situation you encountered with your stepbrother.”
She set her spoon down and worried her hands in her lap. “Thaddeus was nineteen and I was thirteen when my mother married his father,” she said. “He immediately became my protector.”
Everett wrinkled his brow. “Many young ladies would welcome such brotherly intervention. You sound less than happy about it. Why?”
She shifted as she thought of Thaddeus’s gaze upon her all those years. “He was…rather intense about it,” she whispered.
The men exchanged a look and her cheeks heated further.
“You mean he wanted you?” Everett encouraged gently.
“I don’t know,” she lied. Out of habit. Out of embarrassment.
Marcus saw through that deception, though, and shook his head. “Yes, you do. Perhaps when you were young you didn’t, but you know now.”
She fiddled with her spoon as she tried to find a way to approach this difficult topic. “Yes,” she said at last. “I think he did want me. Perhaps he still does. He would watch me. Always watch me. I didn’t like it. Never liked being alone with him.”
Marcus glanced at Everett. “Seems like information well worth pursuing.”
She shook her head. “Perhaps you might stretch and think that was a motive for Thaddeus to kill my husband or husbands, but why would he shoot at me?”
