The Courage to Love

By Samantha Kane

Discover the First Book of Samantha Kane's Beloved Brothers in Arms Series

"No one does the hot historical better..." - Kate Pearce, NYT and USA Today Bestselling Author

Erotic historical romance

Kate Collier is still recovering from a vicious rape and trying to make a success of her dress shop when Jason Randall and Anthony Richards return to London from the Continent, intent on winning her. She's known them for years, ever since they served with her late husband in the Peninsula against Napoleon. She'd been in love with them for almost that long. To discover they feel the same is a shock, but Kate isn't ready to turn her life back over to any man.

Jason and Tony prove hard to resist, however, especially when their close friendship blossoms into desire for each other as they make Kate's body burn with passion. The combination of their insatiable desire for her and their journey into a sexual relationship with one another is irresistible to Kate.

The past haunts them but, despite violence and censure directed their way, the three long for a life together and they will not be denied.

*Previously published
**For mature readers 18+

• Language: English
• Publisher: Samantha Kane
• Release date: Jun 24, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310364549

Samantha Kane

Reviewers have called Samantha Kane “an absolute marvel to read,” and “one of historical romance’s most erotic and sensuous authors.”  Her books have been called “sinful,” “sensuous,” and “sizzling.” She is published in several romance genres including historical, contemporary, and science fiction.  Her erotic Regency-set historical romances have won awards, including Best Historical from RWA's erotic romance chapter Passionate Ink, and the Historical CAPA (best book) award from The Romance Studio.  She has a master's degree in American History and taught high school social studies for ten years before becoming a full-time writer. Samantha Kane lives in North Carolina with her husband and three children. http://samanthakanebooks.com http://twitter.com/skaneauthor http://www.facebook.com/AuthorSamanthaKane http://www.pinterest.com/kane2993 http://www.goodreads.com/SamanthaKane

Book preview

Chapter 1

Portugal

September 28, 1810

A re you all right, Lieutenant? Jason Randall stopped beside Bertie Thorne. The young man had seen his first action yesterday at Busaco, and he’d looked green around the gills when Jason had seen him not long after the battle was over. Jason would say they won if the victory hadn’t been steeped in carnage.

Thorne stood and saluted. I’m all right, sir, he said. His voice was rough. Either crying or throwing up had produced that. Jason himself had thrown up after his first battle. Fear and excitement could both upset a man’s constitution.

Good. Jason patted him on the back and made eye contact with Thorne’s friend, Lieutenant Haversham, who was sitting next to the boy before the fire. Both still wore their dirty uniforms, but not an inch of either uniform was out of place. Order was of the utmost importance in war. When a man was steeped in chaos, the very things that seemed so onerous at home—a well-maintained wardrobe, punctuality, decorum—were the very things that soothed his soul and kept him sane at war. Say what you will about the army—it was a well-dressed, well-oiled machine.

Haversham looked unflappable, as usual. Major Randall, he said by way of a greeting. Haversham had been with the Fourteenth Light Dragoons since before Talavera, over a year now. He gave Jason a nod to indicate he’d take care of the other lad, though he wasn’t much older. He’d been well on his way to mad when Thorne had shown up. The two made quite an odd pair, Thorne so wild and a jokester and Haversham so staid and solemn.

Jason shook his head as he turned away. Time seemed to be slipping through his fingers. Each day he felt the constriction of it, as if each passing minute were a noose tightening around his neck, choking the life out of him. There was so much he wanted to do, so much he wanted to see, yet he was chained to this bloody war like Prometheus on the rock, the bastard French eating away at his heart as the mythical eagle ate away at that poor Greek’s liver.

As he trudged through the camp Jason tried to feel the horror, the outrage that had filled him in the beginning after a battle. Now he felt…nothing. No anger, no sorrow, no relief, even. Survival just meant one more day of wading through the muck of an army camp, checking uniforms and filling out forms until the next orders came through, and then it was riding, endless riding, across hostile terrain until he ran into the enemy, almost as if by mistake. They tried to kill each other, and then he moved on to the next army camp and started the entire process over. It was mind-numbing monotony broken by heartbreaking carnage, if he still had a heart to break.

He had to stop and lean against the corner support of a nearby tent as another wave of that foolish breathlessness struck him. It had been happening more and more lately. Not during a battle, thank God, but at times like this, when he had nowhere to go and nothing to do and he let his morose thoughts swamp him. No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t catch his breath, and panic began to overtake him as spots danced before his eyes. He leaned down and rested his hands on his knees, his head hanging low, and stayed like that until the feeling passed and he could breathe again.

He straightened and then yanked on his jacket to set it to rights. After adjusting his shako so it sat firmly on his head again, he looked around with a glare, ready to address anyone who had seen his weakness. Thankfully there was no one about. He was frustrated and hungry and wondering where in the hell Tony was, so he stalked off in search of his best friend. Tony could usually talk him out of his blue devils. He was really the only thing that could get any reaction from him these days. More often than not the reaction was a good throat-clearing bout of angry words, but it was better than nothing. He hated the nothingness. Hated it.

As he approached their tent he was surprised to see it was dark. He’d expected Tony to be back from his meeting with His Lordship by now. He was good and pissed about not finding him here. He was ready for a good row.

Just as he reached for the tent flap he heard the unmistakable sound of a woman moaning from inside. He smiled grimly. Tony’s method of battling the nothingness involved fucking morning, noon and night. Some uncontrollable impulse grabbed Jason then. Some devil inside him that made him want to open the flap and enter the tent, intending something, though he wasn’t sure what. He stopped thinking and gave in to the impulse.

Chapter 2

Anthony Richards jerked instinctively when the flap opened roughly, slapping against the inside of the tent. He rolled off to the side to protect the woman and looked over his shoulder only to see Jason standing there staring at him oddly.

Close the flap, was all he could think to say. His bare arse was probably glowing in the dark of the tent but he didn’t care. He rolled back on top of the whore he’d picked up earlier when he’d met with Wellington. She was British, a camp follower. She’d been hanging about His Lordship’s tent, hoping to snag an officer for the night. Even cleaned herself up for it. So Tony had made the effort worth her while. With a groan of satisfaction he slid back inside her. He didn’t care what tricks she was using, she felt hot and wet and soft and everything he liked in a fuck. He readily admitted his needs were relatively basic.

It took a minute or two before he realized Jason hadn’t moved. He looked back over and something about Jason’s stillness worried him. Jason, he said, but then words failed him.

It was enough. Jason tore off his cape and tossed it over to his cot. Then he began to disrobe completely and without words Tony knew what he intended. A surprising burst of exhilaration coursed through him. He wanted Jason to join them. It should have been more shocking, but instead there was a sense of inevitability about all of it. The recent fighting between them, their shared sense of emptiness except when they were together—it all led here, didn’t it? They’d shared everything else during this bloody war. Why not a woman?

Tony was still for so long the woman beneath him finally stirred and leaned up on her elbows. She eyed Jason calculatingly. Two at a time’s more, darlin’, she purred. But I’m all right with that if you can pay.

We can pay. They were the first words Jason had spoken since entering. He stopped, naked and aroused, and waited for Tony’s response.

We can pay, Tony agreed.

At Tony’s words Jason came toward the cot where he and the whore lay. He hesitated then, and Tony squirmed on the cot, not sure how to make room for him. He certainly wasn’t ready for Jason to climb on top of him. That was perhaps too much sharing their first go-round.

Who’s first? the whore asked. Or together?

Before Tony could answer, Jason spoke, and the desperation in his voice sliced through Tony. Please, Tony, he whispered. I need it badly. Right now I need it.

All right, Tony said quietly. All right, then. He rolled off the cot and stood next to Jason, a strange easiness between them as they stood together naked. He jumped slightly when Jason grabbed his upper arm.

Bring my cot over, he said in a rough voice. Sit next to us.

Tony didn’t question him. Jason had been so aloof lately, so cold to his men and with nothing but harsh words for Tony. This vulnerable Jason was a relief. If this was what he needed, then Tony would give it to him. Without a word he went over and dragged Jason’s cot right next to his. He carefully removed Jason’s cape and laid it on the ground.

Jason pushed on Tony’s shoulder, pressing him down until he sat facing the other cot. Then he crawled onto Tony’s cot and lifted the whore on her hands and knees before him. Tony forgot sometimes how strong Jason was. He was taller than the average man, standing a head above the crowd at least, with broad shoulders to match. He climbed up behind the whore and thrust against her, and for a moment Tony thought he’d already entered her and his heart began to beat faster, the blood pounding in his temples as a surge of pure lust shot through him.

Do it, Tony whispered, the anticipation making him reckless.

Jason smiled at him, his teeth glowing pale in the dark tent. He slid in closer to the whore, holding her still with one hand on her hip, and took a hold of his cock, taking aim and then pressing forward. Tony could hardly breathe as he watched Jason’s cock disappear into her cunt. It was one of the most thrilling things he’d ever seen. He ruthlessly cut off thoughts of how inappropriate what they were doing was, and how his reaction to it was possibly the most inappropriate thing of all.

Jason moved in and out of her and suddenly Tony was surrounded by it, surrounded by the sights, scents and sounds of Jason fucking. He tried to take it all in, all of it. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, the smell of arousal heavy in the air exciting him like an aphrodisiac. He was harder than he’d ever been, bursting with desire. He heard the slick glide of Jason’s cock in and out, faster with each pass, and then a soft pleased cry from the whore. His eyes flew open and he saw that Jason was holding both of the woman’s hips tightly now, thrusting hard and deep. She rocked forward with each thrust, and the cot moved on the floor. Without thinking, Tony reached out and grabbed Jason’s arm to steady him, wrapping his hand around his flexing biceps, which were astonishingly hard and hot under his palm. He yanked his hand back, appalled at his behavior.

At his touch, Jason paused, holding himself deep inside the woman, who gave a moan as she spread her legs wider and lowered her head to the cot. Jason was panting as if he’d run a league and just arrived. The look he shot Tony was heated and intense.

Put it back, he rasped.

What? Tony asked, his heart pounding so hard he thought it would leap out of his chest.

Put your hand back.

There were no more words, no explanation. It was as much demand as plea. In some corner of his mind his rational self tried to tell him all the reasons it was wrong. But he ignored the annoying, discordant voice. Instead he let his instinct guide him. He slowly raised his hand and wrapped it around Jason’s arm, holding tight, absorbing the heat and strength of him.

That’s right, Jason said with satisfaction. And it was.

Chapter 3

Jason had never felt like this. He was out of control. First barging in on Tony and his strumpet, then taking over the fuck without a by-your-leave. And now this. Demanding Tony touch him, and reveling in it. The heat of Tony’s hand on his arm was thrilling beyond compare. He was fucking a woman while Tony watched. Tony is touching me while I’m fucking a woman. It became a litany in his head.

Tony’s hand slipped and Jason panicked. Don’t let go, he burst out. Don’t.

Immediately Tony gripped him tightly again. I won’t. The pressure on his arm soothed him. I won’t let go.

Tony’s voice sounded different. It was deep, a low growl, aroused. Like everything else tonight it drove Jason’s mad lust higher. He began to fuck the woman again. She was hot and wet, and he felt her inner walls tremble as he thrust. He’d been with whores before, some who enjoyed their work and some who didn’t. This one did. At least tonight she did.

Can you come? he asked her, running his hand down her back, liking the way she felt—a little damp with sweat, the bumps of her spine a pleasant feeling under his palm.

She laughed breathlessly. Just give me the word, Major.

He glanced at Tony. It was hard to discern his black hair and blue eyes in the dark. If he didn’t know it was Tony it would be impossible to determine his features. But it was more than his physical attributes that made him Tony. They’d been through so much together. So many battles, so many deaths. And yet here they were, still alive together, engaged in the most basic of life’s pleasures. Shall I tell her to? he asked Tony, making their connection even more intimate. He wanted Tony not just to watch, but to be a part of this fuck, to be there in the very moment with Jason.

Do you want her to? Tony asked quietly. Tell me what you want.

I want to watch you fuck her next. For a moment Jason was stunned he’d actually said it, actually voiced his most secret desire.

All right, Tony agreed, no censure or shock in his tone, as if they had been doing this sort of thing forever. Finish, then. I want to see it.

And there it was. Tony was being as open and honest as he tonight. Yet there was no horror in their desire, no shame. It felt natural to share this with him. Better, perhaps, than it ought to, but Jason had not known such pleasure in all his life. As he moved within the whore, Tony’s hand upon his arm, he felt alive again. He felt…everything. Every death, every terror-ridden moment and the full joy of survival, all wrapped up in this fuck, this shared intimacy with a man who was closer to him than any other human being he had ever met.

He couldn’t last, not with Tony touching him, watching him, enjoying Jason’s performance for him. And it was for him. He thrust hard and deep, and the woman under him moaned her pleasure, but it was Tony’s sharp intake of breath, the slight jerk of awareness as his hand tightened on Jason’s arm, that pushed Jason over into his release.

Yes, Tony whispered, and Jason shuddered in the throes of a passion he hadn’t known resided within him.

When it was over, when he could see and speak again, he pulled out of the protesting whore. Thank you, Jason told her with a laugh, breathless from his exertions and from the anticipation of what was to come next. And you needn’t worry, my dear. Tony will see you through to your end.

Tony couldn’t wait to fuck the woman again. The thought of sliding into her while she was still wet and madly aroused from her coupling with Jason nearly brought him to his knees. His hands were shaking with the need to have her. Right now.

When he stood abruptly Jason looked at him in surprise. But his surprise turned to a knowing grin. Eager, are you? he said with a little laugh. Well, you do like to fuck.

Jase, he said, not hiding the desperation in his voice, please.

Jason reached out and Tony instinctively gave him a hand and helped him rise from the cot. The contact was electric. Involuntarily his hand tightened around Jason’s, and Jason responded in kind. The tight clasp of their hands steadied him and he took a deep breath.

Tell me, Jason whispered as he stood next to Tony, leaning his head closer. Tell me how it feels. I like that, you know. I like the words.

Tony disguised his shiver of desire with a twist of his head, as if he were just stretching his neck. Jason let go of his hand and took a step away. May I sit and watch, as you did? he asked Tony.

Yes. It was all Tony could say without revealing the depth of his arousal. It felt like a weakness, this desperate need to fuck for—with—Jason. What had started as a way to soothe Jason had become so much more in the space of just minutes. It was as if the floodgates of Tony’s desires had been opened and he was overwhelmed with the emotions coursing through him. Why was he reacting like this? Was it Jason? Was it just because the situation was so foreign to him, so forbidden? Would he feel differently if they ever did this again? He couldn’t answer those questions right now. He could hardly think through the lust that had taken hold of him.

He pulled on the whore’s arm, gently tugging her over so she lay on her back. It was suddenly important to him that she be a part of what was happening. The world had narrowed down to him and Jason, and he couldn’t grasp the meaning of that just yet. She grinned in a very female sort of way, like the cat that ate the cream. Come on, then, she whispered, holding out her arms as she slid her feet back, spreading her legs. Tony climbed between them immediately; he needed no further invitation. He thrust into her with a profound sense of relief.

He had no finesse tonight. He rutted on the whore as if he were a mongrel off the streets. All he wanted was to bury himself inside her as far as he could. He anchored his arms by placing his elbows above her shoulders, holding on to the edge of the cot, and then he leaned over her, panting in her ear as he fucked her as hard as he could. He tried to concentrate on her—on her heat and wetness, her willingness and her surrender—but all he could think about was Jason on the cot next to them, watching them. Watching him.

Jason didn’t help his concentration. He made his scrutiny of them obvious, pulling the cot closer with a scrape against the ground, his breath a breeze of awareness as it touched Tony’s face. Tell me, he demanded harshly.

Tony turned his head to the side, trying to block out Jason and deny his demands. But the words came for Jason anyway, unbidden but perhaps not unwanted. She’s so wet, he whispered. I’ve never had it like this. The heat and softness of it… He couldn’t go on. The whore had wrapped her arms around him and was holding on, unable to meet the wild onslaught of his thrusts with movement of her own. Unexpectedly she cried out, her nails scoring his back, and he felt her walls tremble around him as she came. He was swamped with sensation, his climax pouring through him in a mad rush.

When it was over, the whore pushed him off and rose from the cot with a groan. You’ve worn me out, you two. Back to my own cot for some rest! She laughed as she pulled her dress on over her head.

Jason handed her the agreed-upon fee. Tony had no idea where it had come from. When had Jason gotten up? Here you are, he said kindly. Thank you. I’ve added a little extra. There’s no need for the rest of the camp to know about what we’ve done, is there?

The whore winked at him. Not from me, deary. Just make sure you two ask for Dora next time you get randy, eh?

Dora it is, Jason said with a laugh. She saluted them smartly and then disappeared out of the tent, leaving them alone.

Tony was incredibly embarrassed. He supposed they’d have to talk about it now.

Don’t, Jason said. He was lying on his cot, his arm over his eyes. He sounded tired, but not world weary as