Their Virgin Secretary

Chapter Seventeen

Eric hung up the phone and was just reaching for his notes when Kellan stormed by. Frowning, Eric paused and stared for a moment, noting the flushed grimace on Kell’s face.

Damn it. That couldn’t be good. He’d expected Kellan to take his time with Belle. Hell, he’d half expected to have to pull them off one another when the contractors returned. They’d designated this time for the two of them to be alone and to hopefully work through their issues. So why was Kell walking out?

Sir trotted in and jumped up on the couch. He was getting used to the mutt. The puppy had two levels of activity: full throttle or dead-ass asleep. Actually, Sir kind of reminded Eric of Tate. Since coming to New Orleans, his brainiac friend was either moody as shit or ridiculously happy.

Eric definitely preferred ridiculously happy.

“Hey, what crawled up Kellan’s butt and died?” Tate asked as he walked in carrying two bags from a local electronics store. “I tried to talk to him, and he said he was going to get a drink. It’s barely one o’clock. I thought he was spending the afternoon with Belle.”

Something had gone very wrong to make Kellan rush out like that. “Maybe we should go check on her.”

“No need. I’m fine.” Belle stood in the doorway, lips turned down, shoulders slumped. She looked disheveled, delicate, and gutted. She’d thrown a robe on, but there was no way to mistake the sorrow in her eyes.

Eric’s heart sank. He seriously thought about charging after Kellan and beating some sense into him. Letting Kellan spend alone time with Belle should have softened him up and helped change his very stubborn mind. Instead, it looked as if Kell had managed to break Belle’s heart. Eric bit back a curse. Would Belle toss up her hands and say she was done with them all?

Mentally, he prepared the argument of a lifetime. He had to make her understand that whether or not Kellan stayed, he and Tate could form an unbreakable bond—if she let them. He intended to stay with her and make her happy. No fucking way was he going back to Chicago alone.

“Talk to me, baby.”

“What do you have in the bags?” Belle asked, changing the subject.

Eric looked at Tate, who appeared just as tense as he felt.

With a sigh, Tate set the bags down and spoke carefully, as though trying not to upset her. “Just some new computer stuff. You know how I like to play around with all the new toys.”

She gave him a sad smile. “I do. I thought you should know I found one of my own.”

Belle dangled something from her hand. A doll formed of plain fabric with a bit of yarn for hair and two dark buttons sewn where the eyes should be. The doll was damn creepy. Whoever had made the thing obviously didn’t believe in the pretty princess toys.

“Is that what I think it is?” Tate bit out.

Belle laid it on the desk, then joined Sir on the couch, scratching his belly when he rolled over. “If you think it’s a voodoo doll, then you’re correct.”

“Your grandmother has voodoo dolls?” Eric frowned. He thought she’d been a psychic.

“No.” Belle shook her head. “Someone left this hanging in my closet for me. It’s even wearing a replica of the same clothes I had on the other day. But I didn’t see this when I got dressed this morning. Believe me, I would have noticed.”

Eric stared, anxiety compressing his chest. His previous fear morphed into lava-filled. Someone was playing with them again, trying to frighten his woman away. “Hanging, you say? Like, by the neck?”

“Yep. From a noose.” Belle looked every bit as pensive as she sounded. “I guess we should call the police again?”

Eric didn’t see why. They hadn’t done anything the first time, and based on the news, they were still mired in the madam murder case. “Let’s take another look at Captain Ron and Mike because they’ve both been working in your bedroom and bathroom.”

“And I took the draper up there so she could get a look,” Belle added.

Eric shook his head. “She wasn’t here when someone wrote the message on your wall. We need to figure out all the people who had access to the house on both instances.”

“Or I could just install some hidden cameras and catch the fucker in the act.” Tate pulled a teddy bear out of one of the bags.

“Am I supposed to cuddle with that?” Belle asked.

Tate started to fiddle with the bear, his fingers moving a switch. He opened his laptop and typed something into it. Less than a minute later, he turned the computer around and Eric saw himself on screen.

“A nanny cam?” Eric asked.

Belle peered over his shoulder. As she leaned in, she balanced her hand on his shoulders, and he was relieved she’d come to him for support. “This will be way more helpful than the voodoo doll. Where are we going to put it?”

Eric knew exactly where he wanted it. He turned when he felt Belle meander away. “This asshole seems to really like the master bedroom. I think we set up in there and watch who goes in and out. This way you can still have the house remodeled without us having to formally check everyone’s backgrounds or kick them out altogether. We can monitor everyone’s activity in your bedroom via our laptops. We’ll know exactly when this sick creep goes in and what he does.”

“God, I hope it’s Mike so I can kick his ass,” Tate muttered under his breath.

“You be careful. Both of you.” She sent them stern glances. “I’ll go along with this idea, but only if you promise not to do anything dangerous.”

Something inside him eased, some kernel of doubt. She wasn’t pushing them away or telling them to leave. The worst seemed to be over. Kellan had been an ass, but Belle wasn’t letting another man affect her relationship with either him or Tate. He wound his arms around her, embracing her, adoring the warmth and feel of her. He loved how comfortable she’d become with his body and the fact that she no longer hesitated to show affection.

“Promise me,” she demanded softly. “I couldn’t handle it if anything happened to either one of you. Don’t do anything reckless.”

That was an easy promise to make. Eric had no doubt Tate believed it would be intensely logical to beat the shit out of the man who was trying to scare their girl. He felt the same. Nothing foolish about doing what made sense. “I promise.”

Belle cocked her head and looked at Tate expectantly.

“I promise,” he grumbled.

Eric elbowed his buddy. “Tell me what happened with Kellan.”

Tate watched them with narrowed eyes. “Do we need to punch him, too?”

She softened against him, resting her head on his chest, seeking support and affection. “No. I told Kellan the truth about his future as I see it and explained how this was going to work from now on. I believe he’s weighing his options, but you should know he’s probably going to leave.” She lifted her head, her expression filled with regret. “Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed him.”

Risking her heart only to have it stomped on was exactly what she’d been afraid of all this time. Eric hated to see Belle facing one of her worst nightmares, especially when one of their own had tossed it in her face.

He stroked her hair, trying to soothe her. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Don’t. I knew I was taking a risk and that there was every possibility he would walk away, but I couldn’t keep going the way we were. I need to move forward. We all need resolution. The decision has to be his, but he needed to know that I’m going to do everything I can to make sure my husbands are happy, and that means I’ll only sleep with him when you two say it’s all right.”

Eric’s heart nearly stopped. Had she said what he thought he’d heard?

“Belle?” As he moved to stand beside Eric, Tate fastened his incredulous stare on her. “You just said husbands.”

She pulled back just enough to meet their gazes. “I love you. I was afraid for a long time, but I’ve learned that I can’t live like that. What we share isn’t just sex. We make love, and I want to honor that. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I told Kellan I want him, too, but I’m going to move forward with you even if he refuses me.”

No wonder he’d run out of the house like he was on fire. Belle had upended Kellan’s whole world. Eric had no illusions about Kellan’s feelings. The current arrangement suited him. Kell didn’t have to make a commitment or even think about the future. He just had to watch over her and fuck her every night. Belle had changed the game.

Kellan’s loss…but Eric celebrated his victory. This woman belonged to him and to Tate. It was about time she recognized that. He’d only known her for a year, but he felt as if he’d waited his entire life for her.

“You told Kellan you were going to marry us.” He spoke the words slowly, savoring each and every one.

“Yes. If you’ll still have me.” The tremor in her voice told Eric that she was nervous.

He hauled her close again, pure joy in his heart. “Oh, I’m going to have you, baby. I’m going to have you over and over and over again, for the rest of our lives.”

He felt her sigh in his arms and wondered how she could possibly have thought they would reject her. She was their whole world. He kissed her firmly, then allowed Tate to sweep her up in a bear hug. The big guy wore a huge grin as he whirled her around and finally planted his mouth on hers.

Their girl. Finally. Forever.

“We’re getting married,” Tate said, holding her close.

“You better marry me,” she teased. “Because you’ve ruined me for all other men.”

There would be no other men for Annabelle Wright. If Kellan was a stubborn idiot, then Belle would have to be satisfied with him and Tate. He vowed they’d make it worth her while.

Belle turned to them with a coquette’s grin when Tate set her down. “We still have a little time, you know.”

Heat darkened her eyes, and his cock was immediately engaged. “How long?”

She swayed to the door and lingered at the bottom of the stairs, giving them a sultry smile. “Long enough.”

He chased her up the stairs, laughing with Tate all the way.

* * * *

Tate stared down at his fiancée. His almost-wife. God, Annabelle Wright was going to be his wife. How far he’d come. He’d grown up in a house utterly devoid of anything but intellect and duty, and somehow he’d found the one woman who could make up for everything he’d been denied before. He almost couldn’t believe it, but the proof was lying there in his arms. Belle’s eyes had closed after he and Eric had both taken her. She’d curled up next to him, and he watched her breathing turn slow and even. She slept, pressed against him trustingly. Afternoon light streamed in, caressing her mocha skin, making every inch of her gleam. She was so fucking beautiful. Even though he’d just made love to her, his cock was already straining to have her again. He would never take for granted that she was his. Every day, he intended to make sure Belle felt valued and loved.

He cuddled her close, loving the feel of her nipples against his chest. He wanted nothing more than to slide inside her again. Leaving the damn bed was the last thing he wanted to do, but work called. If they were going to renovate this big old house and make it a family home again, that was going to take money—lots of it.

On Belle’s other side, Eric stirred and met Tate’s questioning stare. “You going to set up the camera? We’ve only got about twenty minutes before the contractors return. I don’t want to miss a chance to catch whoever is behind this shit.”

The contractors would be here soon, and they only had three hours before their appointment with the medium. He had a plan to figure out who was trying to scare the hell out of Belle and he was eager to get started.

Then, they could focus on finishing the house, passing the Louisiana bar, and taking a long honeymoon, maybe a staycation in their new master bedroom and bath—just him, Belle, and Eric. He’d make the time to explore his new city—and his new wife. They’d spend lazy mornings in bed, learning every inch of Belle’s gorgeous body. In the afternoons, they could hold hands and walk around, taking in all the famous New Orleans charm. Now that he was here with her and settled, it seemed right to make a fresh start at the beginning of their new life.

First, they had to take care of business.

“Yes. I hope we can catch the fucker today.”

“Me, too,” Belle murmured. “Let’s end this because I want to feel safe in here again. I like this room best.”

They’d all taken to sleeping in one of the guest quarters because Belle had bad dreams in the master bedroom. Hopefully the house “cleansing” would help cure her of that so she could feel comfortable enough to move back in here. It was the biggest of the rooms, the only one with a bed they all fit comfortably on. Though they were going to have to expand the closet.

Shit. He didn’t like the thought of more work, but Belle really liked clothes and she would take up most of the space. His princess deserved a grand dressing room.

He kissed her lightly and rolled out of bed, not bothering with his own clothes. He didn’t need them in this room. Once the contractors were gone, he intended to spend a good portion of his time naked—and keep Belle bare as well.

He’d brought up the nanny cam when they’d chased Belle up the stairs. The little teddy bear looked utterly harmless. A tiny camera dotted the bow tie around its neck that would catch the culprit on film. He placed it on the bookshelf next to a picture of Marie Wright and another woman. He glanced at it briefly, but then turned to study the layout of the room so he could position the bear for maximum visual coverage. He needed to capture an image of the sucker’s face.

“Do you have to point that thing at the bed?” Belle asked, resting her head on Eric’s chest.

He couldn’t help but grin. “It’s the best place. Anyone who walks in the room will have to walk by the camera. But beyond the practical, I think we should record our lovemaking. Baby, we could make so much money off a sex tape. You’re so hot. I could call it Nerd Gets His Girl and it would be a best seller. Think of the download potential. We wouldn’t have to work at all. We could just sit back and let the cash roll in.”

“No!” She threw a pillow his way. Tate ducked and the pillow sailed by him, knocking over the nanny cam and the photo beside it. “I’m not making a sex tape.”

He would have to work on her inhibitions because something about watching Belle on film got his motor running. But then, everything she did made him hot. She was it for him.

He reached down and picked up the pillow, tossing it back to his girl. He straightened the nanny cam and made sure it was switched on before picking up the frame. He was damn glad it hadn’t cracked. Belle loved these old pictures of her grandmother. She hadn’t spent time with the woman so Tate rather thought these pictures were Belle’s way of making a connection. He glanced down at the picture in his hands.

Marie Wright was smiling at the camera, her arm around a younger woman. They were both in cocktail dresses and made up like they planned to hit the town. The blonde next to her seemed to be in her mid-twenties. Something about her looked very familiar.

Shocked, Tate stared at the photo, searching his memory. It was right there, on the tip of his tongue. A name. He knew that woman’s name. Why would he know anyone Belle’s grandmother had known?

“What is it? Did I break it?” Belle asked.

“No, it’s just the woman with your grandmother looks familiar.” Where had he seen her before? He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he knew unequivocally that he’d met the woman.

Eric climbed out of bed, reaching for his pants. “I looked at another picture with her in the shot earlier, the one I set by the copy machine. It was taken in the late seventies, I’d guess. You weren’t even born then. How would you know some psychic woman from New Orleans?”

There was something about the face. He’d seen those eyes somewhere. They were an odd color, almost turquoise. She was pretty, but there was something hard about her that he couldn’t define. She would be in her late fifties today.

The name finally hit him. He’d been watching her picture on the television for weeks. He’d seen her as an older woman, the victim of a vicious murder and a whole lot of gossip.

“Holy shit. This is the madam. This is Karen Ehlers.” So much fell into place. All the pictures Belle had found of her grandmother and the groups of beautiful women. He finally understood how her grandmother had really afforded this place. Marie had been a madam, then when she’d decided to retire, she’d sold the business to Ehlers. He opened his mouth, but Eric, who’d obviously just made the connection too, shook his head, his eyes wide with warning.

He and Eric had been best friends so long they sometimes didn’t have to talk to communicate. That look on Eric’s face was a stop sign. Do not pass go. Do not tell the secret.

Belle had never guessed her grandmother’s past.

Eric had a point. Maybe telling Belle that her grandmother had been a prostitute wasn’t the right move at this juncture. Their fiancée was just settling in and getting comfortable with her past. She was under a lot of stress and anxiety about the house, and now they were getting married. More stress. She didn’t need to know anything except that her grandmother had loved her. He closed his mouth, and Eric gave him a supportive pat on the shoulder.

“That’s very interesting. I suppose they were neighbors. I bet she had a lot of stories to tell,” Eric said. “Why don’t you put on some pants, buddy?”

He didn’t want to. Eric was just going to have to get used to that because they had a girl now. It was perfectly normal for him to be naked around a girl. Sort of. He did sometimes struggle with social niceties.

Belle took the frame from his hands. Her mouth dropped open as she stared at the picture. “Oh, my god. That is her. That’s the woman they’re talking about on the news.”

Tate shrugged it off. “Looks like your grandmother had some interesting friends.”

And a whole bunch of employees who had specialized in giving dudes head. As family histories went, having a grandmother with a background in prostitution made her unique. He didn’t really see a problem with it, but it might not be something they shared with their kids.

He thought back to the picture in the living room of Marie and all those gorgeous women. Who were prostitutes. When he really thought about it, those women spread joy. They performed a service. They were almost like ambassadors for goodwill.

Belle’s eyes went wide. “Oh my god. They weren’t just neighbors or friends. This explains everything. My father wasn’t mad at my grandmother. He was embarrassed.”

“What do you mean, Belle?” Eric asked benignly.

Tate thought that was a good ploy. Make sure Belle had reached the same conclusion they had before they opened their big mouths.

She ignored them both, shaking her head as she looked at the picture. “Grandma said she sold the business to one of the girls. Obviously, that girl was Karen Ehlers. Oh, my gosh. My grandmother was a madam. She just never stated that in her letters to my dad. She always talked about irritating clients or the ones who were kind to her. My dad grew up in a brothel. Wait. Do you think she just, like, ran the place? Or…?”

Belle looked a little shocked. Tate didn’t want her upset.

“Absolutely,” he and Eric said at the same time.

Belle rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. I wasn’t born yesterday. You don’t apply to be the manager of a brothel. You work your way up from the bottom, so to speak. She was a call girl. Clearly, a high-class call girl. Wow. I’m really shocked. Grandma was a bad, bad girl.”

Belle bowed her head and her shoulders shook. Tate lunged at her, certain she was crying. Damn it, he shouldn’t have said anything, just kept his big mouth shut. Belle hadn’t needed this truth about her grandmother. They couldn’t change it, and the knowledge didn’t negate the fact that Marie Wright had adored her family.

She snapped her head up. Tate saw her laughing, her gorgeous body moving with the force of her amusement. God, she looked beautiful. “My grandma was a lady of the night. Holy crap.”

Tate relaxed slightly. “Honey, it’s obvious she loved you.”

Belle met his gaze, her eyes soft. “I know she did. I’ve read her journals. She and my dad were estranged for years, but she loved him too. So very much. I think Grandma did the best she could. From what I can tell, she was an orphan herself. She got pregnant young, and my grandfather didn’t want a family. So he left her alone and pregnant and she wanted to make the best life she could for her kid. And she did. He never went hungry or homeless. In fact, he went to the best schools. I loved my dad, but he was wrong to shut her out. I guess he wanted to distance himself from his upbringing and live a reputable life.”

He pulled her close. “He wanted to do what was best for you, baby.”

She nodded. “I know. But I’ve figured out that what society demands and what my heart needs aren’t at all in synch. I finally figured out what I want to be when I grow up.”

“And what is that?” Eric asked, getting close.

“Happy. I think that might be all that matters. I’m going to marry you both because I love you and you make me happy. I hope our kids don’t react the way my dad did to my grandmother’s choices, but I really think if he’d lived, he would have forgiven her at some point.” She gave him a brilliant smile. “So that explains a whole lot. I need to take a shower before the contractors come back and kick me out of the bathroom. Can someone figure out where Kellan is? I hate the thought of him being out there all alone, especially if he’s drinking.”

Eric nodded. “I’ll find him. Tate can stay here and do the cleansing thing with you. I’ll have a nice long talk with our partner.”

Belle smiled and disappeared into the bathroom.

He held out his hand, shaking Eric’s. “I’m going to set the camera up properly with a motion detector and attach the feed to our phones. We’ll get a text when movement kicks it on. I’ll set it to start running after Belle’s ready.”

“Perfect. I’ll find Kell.”

“Do what you need to in order to get his ass home and some sense into his brain.”

If he couldn’t, Tate knew Belle would always miss Kellan. Hell, he would miss the bastard. There would be a piece of them missing if Kellan wasn’t with them. They would go on without him, but Tate thought they should at least try to talk some sense into him.

“Will do.” Eric sighed and shook his head. “But please put on some pants.”

Tate shrugged, promising nothing.