The 'game' Blaine suggested was a sort of Round Robin. Both women had to fuck all three men, but they could fuck them in whatever order they wanted, however they wanted, and whichever one got all three men off first won. Not just that round, but the entire 'contest' Patrick had set up, which meant if Bridget was going to avoid ending up in Patrick's bed tonight, she had to beat the princess.

"Three!" Patrick said and Bridget darted for him. They'd had her and the princess start at the same place, making them run across the clearing to reach the men, which gave Bridget the advantage because she hadn't just been strapped and she was in better general shape than the princess when it came to running.

She reached the leader a few steps ahead of the princess, who glared at her and immediately went to Samuel. Bridget wasn't sure if the princess was feeling possessive or if she just realized Patrick would be easier to make climax now than later. Now while he was still aroused and eager from strapping the princess. While it didn't seem entirely fair that Bridget would be the one to benefit from the princess' pain, she wasn't going to give up whatever advantage she could get.

The princess had obviously pegged Samuel as being an equally hard case to please and sought to have him while he had only been pleasured once.

Taking Patrick's hand, Bridget pulled him off to the side, trying to think quickly of how she could most arouse his passions. Letting him take control seemed to be key, from the one night she'd spent with him, and pain and fear aroused him more than anything else, but obedience wasn't far behind. He'd already had his dose of pain from the princess and Bridget truly was afraid of him so she let that show in her face as she lay down on the ground.

Spreading her legs wide she grabbed at her ankles, holding them far apart and making her body incredibly vulnerable to him as she exposed her cunt and tender bottom. Her buttocks were still rosy in the campfire light and her terror of him was clearly etched on her face.

"Please take me," she said, her voice trembling, and she saw his cock jerk in reaction.

"You want this?" he asked, fisting his cock. Behind him she could see the princess mounting Samuel and already beginning to ride him.

"Yes please," she said breathlessly. "I want you to punish me with your big cock."

The avid lust on his face only increased her anxiety as he dropped to his knees and slapped her ass hard. She yelped as his hand came down on her tender ass, a sharp reminder of the spanking that he'd already given her, and he let out a low groan as he gripped her flesh hard. Bridget whimpered.

"Hold your legs just like that," he said, his voice filled with lust and need. "Don't let go."

And he plunged into her body as Bridget cried out and tried to obey his order. The initial thrust was brutally hard and fast, stretching her tight tunnel ruthlessly with his thick cock. She allowed herself to scream and shriek as much as she wanted, only now realizing just how much she'd stifled her voice before because she hadn't wanted Garrett to confront Patrick and possibly be injured or even killed. Now Garrett was no longer here and she cried out, tears springing to her eyes as her cunt was roughly opened and pounded.

The pitiful cries seemed to spur Patrick onward, his low grunts and groans of pleasure accompanying her whimpers and yelps. Grabbing onto her breasts for leverage, he mauled her teats as he pulled her hard against him, slowing her movement through the dirt from the force of his thrusts. Bridget sobbed and squirmed, struggling to hold her legs open under his steady assault, his thick rod splitting her core over and over again.

That obedience, combined with his excitement from strapping the princess and his brutal fucking of Bridget's soft cunt, pushed Patrick over the edge. Bridget shrieked as he pounded even harder between her splayed legs, bruising thrusts against her tender folds, and her knees bent as she lost control over her muscles, her body automatically trying to protect itself from his punishing cock.

The rapid fire shoves of his iron rod into her clasping orifice was followed by a hard grip on her breasts as he rubbed himself against those tender folds, his cock throbbing inside of her as he came. Bridget choked back a sob of relief. Her pussy ached from the brutal assault, as did her breasts, joining the soreness in her ass that she'd already received at Patrick's hands.

She sincerely hoped this was the last pain she received from him this evening.

To her relief, the princess was still involved with Samuel, although she had now moved so he was on top of her. Yet it didn't seem to be quite enough, he was almost playing with her, drawing out the fucking. Apparently she hadn't excited him enough for him to lose control, the way Bridget had attempted to do with Patrick.

Feeling more than a little relieved, Bridget headed over to Blaine, assessing as she moved. He was always so indifferent that she wasn't entirely sure what would appeal to him. Finally she decided to just do what she could, focusing all of her attention on him. While he often seemed rather indifferent to her, he certainly wasn't indifferent about taking his pleasure. Blaine was lazy and he liked what felt good. The mounted position the princess had tried (and failed) with Samuel would probably work quite well with him.

Bridget gently pulled Blaine down to the ground and climbed on top of him, one leg on either side of his body. Fortunately, he was already hard from watching her with Patrick and the princess with Samuel. Bridget thanked her lucky stars that she had finished first so far. It would make things easier. Arranging herself above him, Bridget pressed the crown of his cock to her hole and began to tease his tip, lowering herself just enough to take the head of his cock into her body before raising herself up again. She was already wet with fluids from Patrick and her own cream, which made the sensations pleasurable for both of them. Moaning, Blaine filled his hands with her breasts as she teased him, wanting to stoke his arousal even more before she began in earnest.

When he began lifting his hips upwards, trying to thrust into her body despite her movements, Bridget quite suddenly sank onto him, both of them crying out as he filled her completely. She ground herself down on top of him for a moment and then began to rise and fall, her legs working as she leaned backwards so that he could fully appreciate the view of her bouncing on top of him, her breasts wobbling on her chest with every movement. It was hard on her legs and she could feel her thighs burning as she worked his cock, concentrating on tightening her inner muscles around him. The added benefit was that clasping his rod with her pussy enhanced her own enjoyment of the proceedings.

When her legs were too tired to maintain the position, she leaned forward so her breasts were pressed against his body, working her hips faster and harder. She could see Samuel finally climaxing as he fucked the princess, his hoarse cries spurring her own efforts as she knew the princess would also now be moving on to her second man. Leaning down, she began to lick and nip at Blaine's skin, trying to find the sensitive spots, concentrating on those areas where she had reacted most strongly to Garrett's touch. His collarbone, the hollow at the base of his throat, his ear lobes... oh, he liked that. Bridget suckled at the lobe more strongly as Blaine grunted, his hands sliding down her body to her hips so he could move her harder, faster, his need becoming more urgent

Biting his earlobe, Bridget could feel her lower body start to burn and ache with the tension that was gathering, her loins tingling with sensation as Blaine's cock stiffened inside of her. She squeezed his cock as much as she could with her cunt walls, and the increased friction set off her own orgasm. With her cries of pleasure ringing in his ears, her pussy convulsing around his rod, Blaine reached his own point of culmination. Groaning with satisfaction, he filled her pussy with its second load of hot seed for the night, his fingertips digging into the soft swells of her buttocks as he gripped her hips and rubbed her back and forth on top of him.

Panting, Bridget collapsed on top of him as he finished his ecstasy, bucking beneath her while her pussy spasmed and pulled at his cock.

Pushing herself up, Bridget could feel cum dripping down her thighs as she turned to face Samuel. He regarded her with amused, rather than interested, eyes. Unlike Blaine, he wasn't aroused merely by watching others have sex, especially after he'd already been satisfied by Bridget's mouth and then the princess. In many ways, Bridget still held the advantage—she was ahead, and the princess was still working on Patrick. But her last man would be Blaine, and Blaine was much easier to please than Samuel. Already he was watching Patrick pounding between the princess' legs and Bridget was sure the princess would have no trouble arousing him.

Which left her with the problem of Samuel. Licking her lips, Bridget eyed him warily, her muscles tensing as she realized she had no idea what to do. Something about her stance seemed to interest him and he cocked his head at her, his entire demeanor shifting so that he looked like a tall, pale, blonde predator as the campfire light flickered over his form and features. Bridget was hit with sudden inspiration. She took a step back, away from him, and Samuel's shoulders tensed, his eyes alight with interest. She took another step back away from him and his cock twitched.

"Samuel..." she said, her voice husky, throat still sore from his cock's abuse. His eyes met hers and she turned and ran. A gleeful laugh rang out behind her and she heard him spring after her.

Suddenly her heart was in her throat, pounding as she ran, adrenaline surging through her as she fled before him. The sound of his pounding feet were coming closer as she crossed the clearing, and Bridget truly felt like prey, fleeing before a hunter, as she sobbed out a ragged breath, her limbs unable to go faster than they already were. The chase had become real, her basest instincts taking over. Fingers brushed the back of her arm and she jerked it away. Unfortunately, the movement caused her to stumble and she fell and rolled onto the grass. Just as she was about to get up Samuel grabbed her ankle and yanked it back, sending her falling face forward. She let out a cry and threw her hands out in front of her to break her fall, but it still knocked the breath from her body.

Trying to gather her breath and thoughts, Bridget attempted to crawl away from him, but he grabbed her hips and pulled her back, putting his legs over hers. The front of his lower legs were pressed against the center of the backs of her calves, keeping her legs apart and pinned to the ground, his unyielding hands gripping her hips as he pulled her back towards him. Bridget flailed, twisting and cursing at him as his cock rammed forward, splitting her cunt with one brutal stroke. His groin bounced off of her buttocks and he pumped inside of her from behind, shoving her body forward.

Twisting and struggling, they grappled with each other even though Bridget's legs were pinned in place she never stopped fighting him. And Samuel managed to keep fucking her, his cock remaining firmly lodged in her pussy no matter how she moved. Somehow she managed to get a hold of his arm and she bit him in her frenzy to break free. With a roar of anger, Samuel grabbed her hair, twisting it around his hand and pulling her head up. Bridget howled as he pulled his cock free from her pussy and plunged into her ass in retaliation, with no more lubrication than the seed and cream he'd coated his cock in while he'd been seated in her cunt.

Her ass burned from the sudden penetration, her guts cramping as his cock rooted around in her bowels, her muscles spasming around the intruder. The hand in her hair tugged harder and Bridget found herself on her knees, her body arched with her breasts thrust forward, her hands above her head gripping Samuel's wrist as he plundered her tight ass. The angle allowed him to penetrate her deeply and made it harder for her to struggle, tears leaking down her cheeks as the sharp ache in her bowels stabbed with every hard thrust, her cramped tunnel shuddering as she automatically clenched and released around his shockingly hard rod.

"Please... slower... oh God..."

Chasing her had aroused him, subduing her had made him into a rutting animal, and her biting counter assault had inflamed him. Bridget sobbed, tears falling from her cheeks to her out thrust breasts as he ravaged her ass, spearing her body between her soft buttocks and turning a deaf ear to her pleas and cries.

Suddenly he released her hair and Bridget fell forward, her ass high in the air, hips held by his strong hands, and her lower body collapsed on the ground like a supplicant before him. Her ass burned as he began to fuck it harder, moving with powerful strokes in and out of her clenching hole, his balls slapping against her splayed pussy. The orgasm she'd had with Blaine had left her sensitive and this position meant Samuel's cock was rasping over a sweet spot deep inside of her, causing her body to shudder as pain and pleasure began to mingle, a potent stew that made her tighten even further around him.

Holding her hips fast, Samuel pistoned in and out of her, his straining grunts punctuating every deep thrust. Moaning, Bridget shuddered beneath him as the pleasure built up again inside of her, more strongly now that it was battling the burning ache that his rape of her ass was causing. The real pain was fading into a kind of general hurt, but she had begun to move back against him, her body accepting the rough anal fucking as pleasure mounted and surged between her legs.

"Oohhh... oh please..." Bridget's body coiled and arched, her insides burning in an entirely new way as a tremor went through her tunnel, a strangely painful kind of ecstasy fizzing through her skin. Her empty cunt convulsed and her ass tightened, bearing down on Samuel's hard cock as she climaxed, her body pulsing with torturous rapture.

Bellowing as her ass gripped his cock in a vise, so tight it was almost painful, Samuel thrust hard into that clenching portal and spurted deep inside of her body, filling that protesting hole with frothy cream. She sobbed as his rigid length pierced her, adding to the mix of sensations roiling throughout her body, the throbbing of his erection against the tight ring of her anus forcing every spurt of seed deep into her bowels. Grinding himself against her cheeks, Samuel moaned as he finished his ravishment of the little maid, letting her tight channel milk every last drop of cum from his satisfied cock.

Slowly Bridget came back to earth, whimpering a little as Samuel eased his cock from her backside. That abused hole protested even the smallest movement and gaped emptily when he vacated the premises.

"Come on, little maid," he said in an almost comforting voice. "I think you've won."

That news heartened Bridget and she finally noticed that the sounds of sex were still coming from across the clearing. She hadn't even made it to the woods. Standing halfway between them and the campfire was a dark shape, rigid anger in its lines. As they returned across the clearing, Bridget taking rather mincing steps to try and ease the aches in her abused holes, she could see that it was Patrick. Behind him, by the campfire, the princess was riding Blaine, fast and hard, the wet sounds of her pussy squelching down on his dick seeming to echo in the silence.

Before Samuel and Bridget drew level with Patrick, he turned and walked back towards the campfire.

Suddenly Samuel leaned down and whispered in her ear. "When you choose who to spend the night with, choose me."

And then he strode ahead of her, joining Patrick as the bandit leader watched the Princess finally bring Blaine to climax. Confused, still shaken, and completely exhausted, Bridget trotted after them and gathered up her clothing, wondering if she dared cover herself.

"Come here, wench," Patrick snapped, obviously displeased with the princess as he pulled her off of Blaine. She pouted and then glared as she saw that Bridget and Samuel had returned. "You're mine for the night." Something in his voice must have told her that he was more than a little displeased over Bridget's narrow escape, because the princess seemed to blanch a little as he pushed her in the direction of his tent. Turning to Bridget he sneered. "Whose bedroll do you choose little maid?"

Darting her eyes back and forth between Samuel and Blaine, who was getting to his feet, looking as blandly indifferent as usual, she hesitated. Samuel gave her a hard look, which didn't exactly recommend him, but something in the way Patrick and Blaine looked at each other didn't reassure her either. While she considered Blaine the easiest to deal with out of the three, his indifference to her could be nearly as dangerous as Patrick's or Samuel's interest. After all, Samuel had already indicated he wanted her for the night and she didn't think he would be interested in adding anyone else to their proceedings. Would Blaine be willing to share if Patrick asked? She suddenly felt quite sure that the answer was yes.

Tired as she was, it was hard to think, but she prayed that she was making the right decision. "Samuel."

Both Patrick and Samuel tensed, looking at each other, reminding her so strongly of Garrett that it almost made her want to cry. There were undercurrents going on in this camp and she knew she didn't understand all of them, but this had to be the most confusing of all. For a long moment the two men studied each other, Blaine looking back and forth between them, and then Patrick stalked off to his tent.

"Come on," Samuel said, pulling her off to the other tent. Bridget stumbled, hoping that he didn't expect any more fight from her this night. She was too exhausted. Just getting to the tent seemed to take all the reserves of energy she had left. To her surprise, Samuel just laid down beside her in the bedroll.

For a long moment Bridget stared at him, trying to see his features in the darkness. It looked like his eyes were closed. Somewhat shocked, she buried her head down and slipped into an exhausted slumber, despite the sounds of muffled pain coming from the other tent.

********

It was just after dawn when Garrett rode into the camp, feeling better for having taken some time to rest the night before. The camp was quiet, no movement to be seen and he worried that Bridget wasn't up and moving yet. Dismounting, he hurried to the tent he shared with Samuel and Blaine, and was relieved to see her slumbering there next to Samuel, looking decidedly peaceful and unbruised. Deciding that she must need the rest if she had slept past her usual time, he quietly crept back out of the tent and took care of his horse.

Taking advantage of being the only one awake, Garrett limbered up his muscles as he laid out the booty he'd brought with him, securing the documents on his person so there would be no chance of losing them. The larger share of his spoils were going to go to Samuel, since it combined Samuel's share along with Garrett's. Fair payment, he thought, since it seemed Bridget had taken no lasting harm the night before.

"Ah, you're back," said a voice behind him, and Garrett turned to see Blaine approaching. The other man grinned when he saw the small piles of jewels and gold Garrett was sorting. "A worthy haul."

"The safe was full," he replied, keeping his tone casual. "How went last night?"

Laughing, Blaine told him of the night's events, the games, the rewards and the punishments. Garrett found he had even more reason to be grateful to Samuel after hearing about the set-up Patrick had devised. If Bridget had lost the overall contest then Garrett would have had no real justification for retaliating against him, at least not in the eyes of Samuel and Blaine. Supposedly he could trust Samuel but…

Their conversation must have woken the others in the camp, because Patrick came out of his tent midway through Blaine's storytelling, smiling as if at fond memories, and Samuel and Bridget emerged at the end. She shot Garrett a look full of anger, which he didn't blame her for after he'd left her alone last night to deal with Patrick's ire. Despite the fact that she'd looked quite well in her slumber, it was obvious she'd passed a rough evening. But she only gave him the one dark look and then removed her gaze from him before he could make any move toward her, busying herself with her normal chore of preparing breakfast.

"Well," said Patrick after Blaine was done, looking at the piles. "This is quite a haul." The grin he gave Garrett said he was pleased, but Garrett knew it wasn't going to last much longer.

"Quite," said Garrett, hiding the tension that he was feeling. This wasn't quite how he planned to leave the group, but he found he couldn't take another minute of Patrick's posturing and he certainly didn't want Bridget spending another minute in the man's presence. "I've decided it's enough for me."

"Enough?" Patrick raised an eyebrow.

Garrett nodded firmly. "Retiring. I'll be going home. And I'm taking the little maid with me.”

*****

Later he would realize that a few hours of sleep under a tree, preceded and followed by a horse ride, was scarcely substitute for a full night's sleep. He would also realize he had been more than physically tired. After all, it had been three years since he'd been allowed to live his own life, his real life. Three years since he'd seen his father or mother, or visited his half-brother's grave. By now he would have missed the marriage of his other young half-brother or seen him complete his growth from youth to man. Three years of playing robber for Patrick, of whom he was decidedly tired. And Bridget had only exacerbated the situation for he was tired of the other men's eyes on her, of knowing that last night they'd had unfettered access to her, so damned tired of worrying over her safety. He just wanted to get his girl and get out, as quickly as possible and his wits deserted him in favor of straight action—something he hadn't been able to indulge in the past three years, and he was tired of that too.

Or maybe it was also some long-suppressed half-baked notion of honor that made him speak out so. After all, he had spent the second half of his life learning to be a gentleman.

********

Silence greeted Garrett's pronouncement that he was not only leaving, but he intended to take Bridget with him. For a moment it seemed as if the world had frozen in place. She felt like she couldn't breathe, as if there was an iron band tightening around her ribs. Not only had she been shocked to find him back in the camp so early in the morning, but now he wanted her with him? Now, after leaving without even looking at her? Her body still ached from yesterday's excesses, her muscles feeling stiff and sore.

And yet part of her exulted in knowing he wanted her with him. Another part was cursing her for being ten kinds of stupid for rejoicing. It was entirely possible he wanted her for nothing more than a convenient outlet for his pleasures. Although, that would certainly be preferable for her than her current situation, even if the idea did make her heart ache. Not to mention she did enjoy spending time with Garrett, no matter that she was still mostly furious with him.

All of these thoughts flitted through her head in the time it took Patrick to put his hands on his hips and throw his head back in wild laughter. The sound ripped through the air, everyone else standing silently and watching him. When he lowered his head back to face Garrett, Bridget's body chilled. While there was a smile on his face, there was no true humor in his eyes. The smile was a twisted, malicious thing, and strangely triumphant. The tension growing between the two men seemed thin as a wire, shivering between them to the point of breaking.

The expression on Garrett's face flickered, from almost confusion to a kind of resignation and then to determination.

"Ahh... at last," Patrick said, his hand caressing the sword at his belt. Bridget could see Garrett's fingers twitch although he didn't reach for his own quite yet and she wanted to scream at him. "I was wondering when it would come to this." The wild grin on his face didn't seem entirely sane.

Out of the corner of her eye, Bridget saw Blaine shift, his own hand on the knife at his belt. Bile rose in the back of her throat. What on earth had Garrett been thinking? As if Patrick would just let them go because Garrett announced it! And Bridget was quickly realizing she would much prefer to go with Garrett, ill treatment of her emotions or not.

"Is there something wrong?" Garrett asked, his voice deceptively mild. The humming tension seemed to buzz in Bridget's ears and she held her breath, afraid to make the smallest sound.

"You. You are all wrong."

The sound of metal unsheathing was fast and slick, and as the two men lunged at each other she saw Blaine pulling his knife from his belt. But who would he attack? Steel clanged as Garrett and Patrick circled around each other, swords flashing in the sunlight, their movements were graceful and confident. Almost beautiful if it wasn't so deadly. As Garrett moved so his back was to Blaine, she saw the boyish looking man shift his stance and set his arm back as if preparing to throw.

Holding in her shriek of fear, smart enough not to distract the combatants, Bridget flung herself at him before he could swing his arm forward. She crashed into him and they went tumbling, his arm snapping forward and releasing the knife. Shouts sounded to the right of her but she couldn't see where he had hit, suddenly she was scrabbling in the dirt, trying to get away from the snarling Blaine as his fingers clamped like a vise around her arm, hard enough to bruise. Now she screamed, a battle cry, as she tried to claw at his eyes with her free hand.

A muscular arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her away, tearing her arm from Blaine's grasp with a painful twist that had her shrieking again as she kicked out at whoever was holding her.

"Be still," she heard Samuel snarl as he tossed her away like she was nothing but baggage. Landing heavily on the ground she felt the wind knocked from her and she struggled for air and sound footing.

Pushing herself up to her hands and knees, she blinked in astonishment. She saw Samuel and Blaine were now fighting with nothing more than their bare hands. Garrett and Patrick were still slashing at each other, although Garrett was now bleeding from a long cut on his arm and Patrick seemed to be favoring his right leg. The princess had completely disappeared—escaped again or hiding in her tent?

Escape...

Good grief, could she find a better time? Surely whichever men won would hunt down the women—or would they decide they didn't care? As much as she wanted to tell herself Garrett couldn't care less what women he shared his bed with, some instinctive part of her knew she was lying to herself. He wouldn't have done something so foolish as announced his intention to take her with him if he didn't care. But would he hunt her down or let her go? Or what if Garrett wasn't one of the winners of this brawl?

Looking over at the fire where she had started preparing breakfast, Bridget made her decision. She crawled, ignoring the sounds and grunts of the men fighting around her, doing her best not to draw their attention as she made her way to the food. Grabbing the knife that she used on vegetables—it wasn't dull but it wasn't sharp—Bridget turned her attention back to the men. Samuel and Blaine still seemed evenly matched, both bloodied and bruised but still going at each other with every evidence they would keep going... but Garrett was moving slower. Already he had more cuts on his arms and she wondered again at how fast he'd managed to return to the camp. Obviously, he hadn't gotten enough rest the night before.

Clutching the knife tightly in her grip, she had already begun moving towards him and Patrick and gotten within ten feet of them when they turned again and Garrett stumbled over a rock on the ground, losing his footing and falling backwards, his sword flying out of his grip. Bridget gasped and Patrick whirled around as she rushed forward, releasing his sword with one hand and catching her around the waist.

Wild laughter spilled from his mouth as he pulled her to him, triumph in every line of his body. She felt herself pressed against him as he aimed the sword at Garrett's unprotected stomach and nausea churned inside of her. Gripping the knife in her hand hard, she shoved it into Patrick's body, aiming to push the blade between his ribs and into his heart, and he grunted, his arm tightening around her.

When their eyes met his were filled with all the fury of hell.

"Damn you..." he rasped, his weight pushing down on her as sticky liquid covered her hands and skirt. Bridget sobbed in fear, trying to push him away as he fell atop her, bearing her down to the ground. She could actually feel the life shuddering out of him as he lay atop of her.

Suddenly the dead weight was pushed off of her and Garrett was holding her. She sobbed into his shoulder, not caring that she was angry at him, not caring how he winced as she inadvertently gripped a wound on his arm. In fact, she was nearing hysterics, despite the soothing words he murmured in her ear. Never before had she done anything like that. She'd seen dead men and women, of course, and animals, but had never felt someone actually die literally on top of her, where she had been able to feel every ragged breath as the life ebbed from his body.

Garrett got her bent over just in time as her stomach roiled and she vomited.

*******

Rubbing Bridget's back, Garrett kept a wary eye on Samuel and Blaine. Although he and Samuel had come to an agreement before Garrett had left last night, he wasn't sure how Samuel would feel about Patrick's death. After all, Samuel had worked on and off for the man years longer than he'd been working for Garrett's father. Which loyalty would win out?

It looked like he'd beaten Blaine into either unconsciousness or death, and at this point Garrett was too wrung out to care which. So far no movement, but he was too far away to see if Blaine was breathing. Sometimes, like now, Garrett cursed the life he'd chosen. Although it made him indispensable to his father and was a great service to England, he could feel it slowly robbing him of many of the virtues his father had sought to instill in him. Honor, chivalry, generosity, humanity.

But in his line of work, being cold and unfeeling led to better results than allowing oneself the luxury of real emotions. Indifference was a shield against regret, rage, and guilt. For three years he'd lived doing whatever he needed to in order to get the job done, because the means were necessary for the end.

And then the woman who was trembling against him came along and he found himself feeling again. Just look to what that had led to—a return to 'honor' which involved facing Patrick, getting himself wounded, risking her life, and Samuel and Blaine's involvement. Not to mention the blood of another man, possibly two, on his hands. Men he had eaten with, rode with, and fought with. Whether or not they were bandits, there had been a connection between them. Perhaps Bridget was also his savior then, for by the time she came along he'd truly started to sink down to their standards and morals, becoming so numb inside it had taken a bright and shining spirit like hers to bring him back out again.

Turning, she clutched at his tunic and burst into tears on his shoulder. He winced, feeling the ache in his arms from the shallow cuts that he'd had to take in order to prevent worse injury, but put his arms around her anyway and let her cry it out. Across the clearing Samuel was inspecting the pile of loot that Garrett had brought back and the princess was peering out of the tent, now that the noises of fighting had gone away. Seeing her he let out an internal sigh. Another problem to deal with, and he really wasn't sure how to go about getting her back where she was supposed to be.

"Shhh, sweetheart, everything's fine, you did wonderfully," he murmured into Bridget's ear as he stroked her back soothingly. He continued to murmur soft words of encouragement in her ear, feeling quite sure that she wasn't truly listening but that his tone and general support would get through to her. Really she'd done wonderfully, some men didn't have the presence of mind that she had. It was just another reason he admired her, and... dared he even think it? Loved her. In his life he'd been with many women, some for pleasure, some to cement his identity with the bandit gang, but never before had any wormed their way into his heart quite like Bridget had. She made him ashamed of the part that he'd played with Patrick and the other men and she also made him want to be a better man.

It might be time to quit his job. Or ask for reassignment. He thought of the papers tucked away inside of his tunic. Once he handed those over, he would be done with this assignment, so it was an ideal time to make a change.

"Are we staying or leaving?" asked Samuel, his voice careless.

"Leaving," said Garrett, glancing at Blaine's still body. "Is he dead?"

"Still breathing but he'll be out for a while."

"Then we'll leave him with some loot and food, if he wakes he can use it. We won't miss it." Blaine was a terrible tracker so Garrett had no worries he might be able to find them once they left if they got enough of a head start. Particularly since he was injured.

Samuel shrugged. "I might miss the loot."

"I'll pay you enough to make up the difference," said Garrett. "And my father will probably give you a bonus for saving my life."

The cruel blonde man grinned. "Why else do you think I did it?"

They looked at each other and Garrett smiled. At one point in his life he might have looked down on Samuel's ethics, but he'd lived too long with the same ones to truly judge him. The man was mercenary through and through, but it seemed that he had his own sense of honor. Once bought, he stayed bought. And right now, Garrett's father had done the buying.

Looking down he became aware Bridget had worked her way out of her sobs and was starting to pay attention to their conversation. "Pack up whatever you want to take with you," he told her. "We're leaving within the hour."

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"England."

*********

By the time they made camp that night, Bridget was starting to feel slightly more human again. Garrett sat her down by the fire which he hastily made, across from the princess, and he and Samuel made the camp ready. She shivered convulsively, unable to think of anything but the feel of Patrick's body against hers, shuddering and weakening. A blanket draped over her back and arms and she looked up to see Garrett frowning down at her.

"Here," he said, handing her a flask. "Drink this."

In a bit of a daze, Bridget brought the flask to her mouth and swallowed the liquid. It burned, surprising her, and she coughed and sputtered. Garrett's dark eyes crinkled as if he wanted to laugh at her and she glared at him before taking another swallow of the alcohol. Although it had been unexpected, this was not the first time that she'd tasted spirits and she welcomed the warmth in her belly, the heat that spread through her limbs, and especially the dampening of her overwhelming emotions.

After she'd taken four long pulls on the flask, Garrett took it away from her. "That's enough," he said gently. "You can have more after you've eaten something."

She felt a small spurt of anger that he was still ordering her around, but the alcohol was already doing its work through her system, she felt too good to truly be angry. Instead she just watched him move about the fire, cooking and speaking in occasional mutters with Samuel. Once dinner was ready, Garrett brought her some food and she ate, although she insisted that he hand over the flask so that she could take a few more swallows from it.

"Don't make yourself sick," he cautioned, watching her with worried eyes.

"Don't tell me what to do," Bridget muttered and was surprised to see a small smile curve his lips. They were such nice lips really, so soft and... talented. Bridget licked her own lips as she stared at Garrett's mouth. Did he know what an incredibly handsome man he was?

The liquor was moving through her veins, making everything seem almost hazy, dream-like, and she found herself enjoying Garrett's warmth beside her. It was so easy, under the influence of the warm fuzziness in her body, to forget that she was angry with him and so she leaned into his side, sighing happily as he curved his arm around her and pulled her closer.

"Come on, princess," she heard Samuel say, his voice filled with anticipation. Blinking muzzily she stared across the fire, where the two people-shapes seemed to blur and multiply as they moved towards the tent. They were going to have sex.

Heat spread from her belly down to her core, kindling sweet need between her legs as Garrett's fingers stroked her side.