Their Tempting Bride by Lacey Davis
3
The day had been harrowing. First thing, a stampede in town where the most handsome man she’d ever seen had picked her up and carried her to safety. Just the memory of his arms holding her as he ran down the wooden sidewalk into the mercantile, protecting her, left a warm feeling in her belly.
The auburn hair, sapphire eyes, straight nose and strong jaw, left her weak. He had lifted her like she weighed nothing and ran into the nearest building. In his arms, she had felt safe and secure.
When she stared up into his eyes, she’d been lost. And his friend, just the way the man’s dark eyes consumed her, left her feeling tingly all over, and her breathing seemed to hasten. Daniel saved her life and he and his friend Martin were the only men in the town of Butte, Montana, who interested her.
The attraction she felt toward them was sudden and swift, almost like that stampede itself.
Unfortunately or fortunately, she didn’t know which, her mother arrived before any damage could be done. Her mother almost asked them to dinner, but now she knew why she hadn’t.
Her father’s despicable boss Virgil Bartlett and his horrid teenage son Billy were guests tonight and her mother sat her right next to the old man who looked at her like she was a piece of fruit ripe for the picking. Like he wanted to touch her inappropriately, maul her with his big dirty hands.
His eyes seemed to remove her clothing and she felt soiled when he looked at her.
“Georgia, you look beautiful tonight,” he said, leaning down next to her, whispering into her ear, his vile breath making her want to shrink from him.
It was all she could do not to lean as far from him as she could. The man smelled of whiskey. A strong body odor let her know he had likely not bathed in a week. Though he wore a nice suit, his hair was greasy black with touches of gray. And she was certain he had farted at the table just a moment ago.
The memory of how Daniel smelled of soap and man and leather made her sigh.
“Thank you,” she said being polite, knowing the moment she could escape this horrid dinner she would.
Her father, his gray hair shining in the candlelight, frowned across the table at her like he could read her mind and knew she planned on leaving. A quick glance at her mother and she could see pity in her eyes. What was going on? Why would her mother have such a sad look?
The table was quiet for a moment and she gazed around at the faces. Mr. Bartlett smiled and seemed jovial while her mother appeared tense, even troubled. And that wretched boy, Billy, kept grinning at her like he knew a secret. A shiver ran down her spine.
The dinner was almost over, and again, she planned on excusing herself as soon as she could to go to her room where she would read poetry and dream about the men who rescued her today. At this moment, she couldn’t imagine which one she wanted more. They were both so handsome, so viral, so all male, that she had the most wicked thoughts of where she wanted to feel either man’s hands first.
An evening spent daydreaming of how it would feel when her husband removed her clothes and touched her in the most intimate of places made her smile. Soon, she could dream. Soon.
Hitting his silverware against her mother’s finest crystal, her father drew everyone’s attention.
“Georgia, I have the most delightful news,” her father said, gazing at her in a way that she couldn’t discern if he was happy or sad. The expression almost seemed angry.
Why was there so much tension in the air tonight?
“Mr. Bartlett has asked for your hand in marriage and I’ve accepted his offer," her father said.
For a moment, she feared throwing up at the table. Her lungs seized and she could feel her body begin to shake. Fear had her trembling. This couldn’t be true. No, she would never marry that old man.
She gazed from her father to her mother and she could see that her mother was looking at her nearly full plate. No wonder she had glanced at her all night in that sad, pathetic way. She knew.
“Isn’t this exciting news,” her father said.
How could she respond?
“It seems sudden, but we’ll spend the next month getting to know each other. Billy and I can’t wait for you move in with us,” the older man said, reaching out and touching her hand, which she instantly pulled back.
“Hello, Mother,” Billy said with a laugh and his father scowled at him.
“Enough, boy,” he told him before he turned back to Georgia.
“Georgia, I’ve had my eye on you for quite some time. We’ll get along just fine. You’ll be a fine addition to our home.”
She glanced at him and her heart felt like it shattered into a thousand pieces. “No, I’m sorry, but I don’t love you. I can’t do this.”
His face turned red and she could sense he was growing angry.
“Georgia,” her father said in that tone that said don’t argue with me. “A good marriage is not about love. That comes with time. After you’re married, you’ll soon grow to love Mr. Bartlett.”
What was there to love about this man? And the thought of sleeping with him had her almost gagging.
“Tomorrow night I’ll come over and we can sit down and start getting to know each other. Before long, you’ll grow to love me. We’ll be married by month’s end.”
The man assumed a lot. They all thought she would just go along with their plan? Why?
“How old are you?” she asked.
“I’m fifty-four,” he said.
“And I’m nineteen. That’s thirty-five years difference. When I’m forty, you’ll be seventy-six.”
The man laughed and then she felt his hand under the table pinching her leg, not in a sexual way, but in a way to inflict pain. Like he meant to hurt her until she agreed. “And you’ll take good care of me when I’m old.”
Reaching under the table, she didn’t make a sound, but slapped his hand away. "That is what your son is for," she said. Her father’s glare let her know he would offer her no help. She was on her own and her husband-to-be was a disgusting old man.
Rising from the table, she turned to her guest. “Excuse me. I’m not feeling well and I’m going to my room. Good night.”
Without another word, she turned and walked out of the dining room. She had known her parents wanted her to marry, but this was the best they could do?
The image of Daniel and Martin came to mind. Either of those fine men would be a wonderful husband. But she would never marry Mr. Bartlett. She would die an old maid before she said I do to that man.
Entering her bedroom, she turned and locked the door. No, she didn’t want to hear their excuses or their reasons for choosing such a pitiful man for her husband.
