Shayla Black - Their Virgin Secretary

He wanted to have it all.

“I doubt Belle is going to be interested in that kind of relationship,” Kellan hedged, though it was easy to see he was thinking about it and aching for it.

“Just come have breakfast with us.” The first step to solving any problem was developing a hypothesis, and his was that Kellan wouldn’t be able to resist if he stayed around a while longer. If he was sleeping next to Belle every night, he’d be unable to keep his distance for long.

Shit. Another problem hit him squarely between the eyes.

“Wait, guys. There are three of us. Where does number three sleep?” Tate shuddered a little. “I can’t cuddle with Eric. It’s just…no.”

He’d had a vision of sleeping next to Belle, his arms wrapped around her. He could wake up to her sweet scent and the soft feel of her skin, then roll her over and slide inside her before they were really awake. That would be damn near impossible if his best friend was in between them.

Someone needed to write a book of ménage advice.

Eric laughed out loud. “I think we’ll have to deal with that problem when we come to it, buddy.”

Eric could laugh all he wanted, but this seemed like a real conundrum.

And then a high-pitched scream cut through the house. Tate’s heart damn near stopped. He leapt to his feet. “Belle.”

Eric and Kell jumped up, too. They were running for the stairs before the sound died, and Tate prayed he could make it to her in time.

Belle lay a trembling hand over her mouth, then reached for her nightstand to turn on the lamp and crawled from bed. When a golden glow illuminated the room, she scanned it, panting wildly. But she saw no sign of the person she’d sworn had just whispered in her ear.

After an exhausting day painting—that reminded her she’d grown unused to physical labor—the comfortable bed had lured her. The quiet had enveloped her, lulling somewhere between awareness and sleep. Just before she’d dropped into the dark chasm of slumber, she thought she’d heard the menacing hiss of a warning.

Get out before he gets you, too.

Then an ear-splitting cry had jarred her awake.

Panting, Belle let her skittish stare bounce around the room. No one visible, but the idea of a stranger in her bedroom made her nauseous. Fear shook her. Had someone been here earlier? Her door was still shut, as was her window. How would anyone have gotten in? Where? It looked somewhere between unlikely and impossible. But she would absolutely swear that someone had stood over her in the dark and whispered the warning.

Maybe it had been a dream? It was possible that between Mr. Gates’s warning that the house was haunted and total exhaustion, her imagination had kicked into overdrive.

Belle turned back to glance at the bed. Sir yawned, looking at her with a slightly enquiring gaze, mostly as if asking when she’d turn the damn light off again so they could sleep. But the dog wasn’t barking. She let out a pent-up breath. If Sir wasn’t yipping his little head off, then they were alone in the room. Heck, he sometimes barked even when no one was there. She needed to calm down and stop letting her weirdly vivid dreams get the best of her.

Belle decided to stop freaking out and let it go, but even as she began climbing back in bed, Belle found herself mentally replaying the dream. Had the scream she’d heard been a part of her nightmare…or something real? She couldn’t remember.

Then as she turned to her nightstand, telling herself to kill the light and get some sleep, an unexpected sight snagged her attention. Written on the wall above her grandmother’s antique vanity in a pigment that looked unnervingly red were the words get out while you can.

Belle opened her mouth to cry out again just as the door flew open. Tate ran in, his eyes wild. Clearly, the scream she’d heard had been real. Had it been hers?

Immediately, he strode to her, his big hands encasing her shoulders as he looked her over, worry written on his face. “What happened?”

Eric charged in right behind him, looking every bit as ready to defend her. “Is someone in the house?”

Kellan stopped in the doorway, gripping her grandmother’s cane in one hand and his cell phone in the other. “Do I need to call 911?”

Heart pounding violently, she pointed to the opposite wall. As she read the warning once more, she sidled as close to Tate as she could, taking the comfort and protection his big body offered.

Kellan stormed over to the wall and studied the writing there. “What the fuck?”

“I was almost asleep. Someone whispered similar words in my ear. At least I thought I heard that. I don’t know. Maybe it was a dream, but…”

Tate wrapped his arms around her and brought her closer against him. Eric opened the doors to the adjoining closet and en suite bathroom. Both empty.

“Stay with her,” Kellan told the other two. He didn’t wait for them to answer. He immediately dialed his phone and paced to the landing. “I need the police, please. There’s been an intruder in my girlfriend’s home.”

As she heard him walking down the stairs and answering questions in clipped replies, Eric approached, speaking in a tone meant to calm everyone. “Tate, why don’t you take Belle downstairs and get her a cup of tea while we wait for the police?”

Tate nodded, taking her hand and linking their fingers. Eric tore his gaze from the warning on the wall before the two men shared a long, tense stare.

“What is it?” Belle asked, scooping Sir against her with her free hand. Something was going on, and they knew more than they were telling her.

Tate shook his head and urged her toward the door. “It’s nothing, baby. We’re going to let the cops take a look at this. Let’s get you downstairs. I’m sure they’ll have questions for you.”

She dug her heels in. “Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

Eric’s eyes closed briefly, but when he opened them he nodded, as though he’d reached a decision. “I’m pretty sure that’s blood, Belle. The brownish cast to it makes me think it’s dried though, so I don’t think the person who did it is still here. But I want to check the rest of the house. We need to get you out of this room and let the cops do their job.”

Blood? Belle hadn’t let herself dwell much on that possibility, but in the back of her head, she’d suspected the same thing. Desperately, she’d hoped the thought was simply an illusion generated by her fear. Knowing the guys had drawn the same conclusion didn’t comfort her. She shivered and let Tate hustle her down the stairs.

An hour and a cup of tea later, she was calmer as the police left with reassurances that the house was secure and they would start looking into everyone who had been there earlier that day.

“You really didn’t see those words on the wall before you went to bed?” Kellan hovered above her, his tone pure interrogation.

Belle had already retraced the evening about a dozen times with the police, but she grasped her patience firmly in hand to answer. If one of the guys had woken up screaming, she’d likely be freaked out, too.

“No, but I was exhausted. I literally fell into bed with my clothes on, so I didn’t have any reason to turn on the light.” Of course if she had, she would have noticed the message someone had seen fit to leave her. But on the bright side, she’d already been fully dressed when the police had arrived. “I didn’t see it. And I have no idea who would be trying to scare the bejeezus out of me. I don’t have any enemies that I’m aware of, especially in this city. I just got here.”

The police had done some quick forensic thing and determined the message had been written in pig blood. They said they’d investigate the vandalism and possible break-in, but much of the department was mired in the madam murder that had taken place a few blocks away and was now gaining national news attention.

“I think we should pack up and head home until we know who’s trying to scare Belle and why.” Eric paced the kitchen.

Tate nodded. “We can spend tonight in a hotel and catch a flight home tomorrow.”

She was afraid, yes. Terrified that someone had come into her house, in her bedroom, intending to frighten her. But she wasn’t leaving. Her future was here, and these men didn’t seem to understand that she couldn’t go back to the relationship they’d had before. If she followed them back to Chicago, she would be just their secretary again, taking care of their professional needs, but not really fulfilling any of her own.

“No. This is my home now, and I’m not going to let some jerk scare me out of it.”

“Belle, someone broke in. It’s not safe, especially until we know who and what we’re dealing with.” Kellan’s voice sounded hard as nails.

“You know that’s not totally true.” She shook her head. “No one had to break in. Did you see the list of contractors and delivery people I gave the police? Probably twenty people were in and out of here today, including the creepy old guy next door who told me my grandma was a witch and I shouldn’t follow in her footsteps.”

Two of her neighbors had shown up in fact, one a very nice woman who wrote novels for a living and had brought her muffins. The other had thumped a bible in her face. Belle knew which neighbor she’d be inviting to dinner parties.

“There were the interns from the law office,” she went on. “Don’t forget the electrician, the plumber—”

Tate frowned. “Was that the guy with the beer belly and the mullet who told you to call him Captain Ron?”

“That’s him.”

“Was he in the military or something?” Eric looked confused.