As the evening had dragged on and several single beauties eyed her bosses, Belle hadn’t been able to watch. She couldn’t stand the thought of seeing them hook up for the night. No, she didn’t think they’d noticed any other woman, much less tried to get anyone’s attention, but men that hot didn’t have to. Before the end of the party, some thin thing would wink their way, and the three of them would probably disappear with her. And Belle knew her heart would break.

She strode down the hall toward her room. She was stuck being something between a little sister and an employee to them. They’d never pretended to want more. They hadn’t promised her a thing. She was going to owe Eric an apology in the morning. They were the best bosses anyone would have, but she’d complained. Not surprising that he’d misunderstood. He must think the worst of her, and she couldn’t blame him. The thought only made her tears come harder.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Kellan. Even without turning around, she knew it. His voice stopped her in her tracks.

Belle couldn’t look at him while she had tears in her eyes. Thank god for waterproof mascara, but he would still be able to tell she was crying. Without a doubt, that would raise questions. He’d bark them, and she didn’t have the heart or the energy to answer.

“I’m tired, Kell,” she said without facing him. “It’s been a long day. I’m going to my room. I’ll be ready for the meeting in the morning.”

Please let him go away. Please. Please.

No such luck. He moved silently, but she felt the moment he entered her space. “Look at me.”

It took everything she had not to obey him and turn around. When he used that voice on her, she wanted to so badly. In fact, when he spoke to her like that, she’d do just about anything to please him. Belle closed her eyes and dredged up the strength to refuse him. “Please, Kell. I just want to go to bed.”

“What did Eric say to you? Turn around, look at me, and tell me what happened so I can fix it.”

Crap, he wouldn’t go away. She should have known it. If she started down the hall, he would just follow her. He was a dog with a bone, especially when he got his inner Dom rolling. She should be happy she was dealing with him alone and not the whole trio. They were all lawyers and damn good at interrogation.

She took a long breath and prayed she didn’t look as bad as she feared. Letting out a breath and trying to hide her defeated expression, she turned. Her heart fell when she saw Eric and Tate storming out of the ballroom in her direction. The doors shut behind them, muffling the music. The hallway fell something too close to silent.

“Tell me now what he said to you.” Kellan scowled fiercely. His expression probably should have sent her running for cover, but she knew he would never hurt her physically. Emotionally, he was napalm.

“Nothing. Eric didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just tired and cranky.” She sighed and hoped she could escape this without fighting the three of them. Or them fighting each other. The guys were so close, but when they threw down, their arguments were legendary. “I’m the one who said something. Can we just let it lie?”

“She’s going to quit.” Eric took his place on one side of Kellan. Tate stood like a sentry at the other.

Kellan’s gloriously blue eyes flared. “Quit?”

Tate shook his head and stepped forward. “Why would you do that? What did we do?”

Annabelle wished she’d never opened her big mouth. “It’s nothing any of you did. I want to be an interior designer. It’s what I studied in college, but I spoke too soon. I’m not quitting tomorrow. It’s something I plan to do down the road. I just thought you all should know.”

There. She could try to play it off as something eventual, not pressing. But now that it seemed obvious they were more concerned about her professionally than romantically, she’d have to leave soon.

“If that’s the case, why are you crying?” Kellan thrust an arm out, stopping Tate from coming forward.

She wished she was one of those women who could turn her emotions on and off, but she’d never been good at hiding what she was feeling. Right now, that was a profound sadness that they would never be hers. “I just got emotional about the wedding.”

“About the dog wedding?” Kellan asked, his voice flat.

“Yes, it was beautiful in its own way,” she insisted, hoping he’d leave it be.

Kell held her stare, his eyes narrowing. “That’s lie number one. I’ll keep track, Belle, and you should expect punishment if you continue.”

Punishment? As she sniffled past her surprise, she studied them. They stood around her in a semicircle, Kell in the middle, while Eric and Tate moved closer to flank her. All three men wore stern expressions, and she had a little flash of instinctive fear. Suddenly, she was struck by how alone she was with them and how big they loomed. She wasn’t some petite pixie, but at the moment, these men made her feel like a rabbit surrounded by hungry lions.

What the hell was that stare about? She didn’t know, but they damn sure weren’t looking at her like she was some sort of wayward employee anymore.

She took a step back. “I just had too much to drink. You know how whiny girls can get when they’re drunk.”

Kellan shook his head. “That’s lie number two. I watched you all night. You had exactly two glasses of Chardonnay and you ate all of your dinner. You also had several glasses of water. You’re digging yourself a hole, love.”

Belle tried to take a step back from the displeased Dom. Suddenly, Tate hovered behind her, cutting off her escape route. The heat of his body blanketed her, sending shivers up her spine. How had he sneaked around her without her noticing?

“That’s more than enough in a two-hour period to counter the effects of alcohol,” Tate added. “Given your body weight and normal intake of eight ounces a day, you shouldn’t be feeling even a light buzz. I’m sure you’re below the legal limit, so you’re perfectly capable of speaking rationally and making decisions.”

She had a glass of wine every night when she got home from work. Just one glass, but that was probably enough to ensure that two in one evening wouldn’t have much of an effect on her. “How do you know what my normal intake is?”

He shrugged. “I think you mentioned it once or twice.”

Tate never thought—he knew. Her earlier fear that they were indifferent faded, now morphing into confusion. How did Tate know her habits at home?

She turned back to Kellan. “You were too busy to keep tabs on me all night, so you don’t really know what I drank.”

“Wrong. I’m never too busy to watch you. I also tipped one of the waiters to keep an eye on you,” Kellan explained without a bit of shame. “You had one glass with Kinley before the wedding and one during the reception. Everything else has been water.”

They could have knocked her over with a feather. “You really did watch me.”

“I do it all the time. You just don’t notice. But I make sure you stay safe and out of trouble. I’ll keep doing it. And you will not be allowed to quit,” Kellan insisted.

Not allowed? She glared at Kell, then sent a sharp, questioning glance Eric’s way. He alone hadn’t given any indication that he spied on her. “And what about you? You been keeping track of who I talk to and dance with, maybe?”

The sexiest smile curled his lips up. “No, honey, that’s Tate’s thing. I’ve just been watching your ass. Have I ever told you how much I fucking love your ass? It looks amazing in that dress.”

Belle dropped her jaw and couldn’t seem to pick it up, even as heat spiked through her. Had Eric really just said that? What the hell? Maybe she’d had way more to drink than she thought and this was some sort of alcoholic haze. She shook her head, too confused and emotional for this bizarre conversation.

“Every man in the damn room has been watching her ass,” Tate complained.

“No, they weren’t,” she insisted. “None of you are making sense right now. Maybe you’re the ones who had too much to drink. Let’s just call it a night. I’ll see you in the morning.”

She turned and ran straight into Tate’s massive body. He was right at six foot five, every inch of him pure muscle. She had to strain to look up at him.

“You think we’re going to sit down over breakfast and have a company meeting on appropriate protocol when the secretary threatens to run away?” Tate challenged with a biting smile. “Maybe draft a flow chart?”

He looked younger than the other two, though she knew he’d been born just a few months after Eric. Somehow he managed to look both boyishly handsome and sexy as hell in his suit. For the longest time, she’d wondered what he looked like out of those tailored suits.

“Tate…” She sighed. “Can you let me pass?”

As an answer, he grabbed her shoulders to hold her captive. “Or I could write a manual. You know how much I like documentation. One of the first things I would do is prohibit that dress in public. Your breasts look gorgeous, by the way. All the men were looking at those, too. And the chick from the bar who plays for the other team. I know that should piss me off, too, but I find it oddly hot.”

Belle rolled her eyes. She wasn’t even sure what he was trying to say. “I’m not in the mood to fulfill your girl-on-girl fantasies, Tate. Good night.”

She tried to walk past him and head for the elevators. Eric stepped in front of her, blocking her path. “Not quite yet. The girl-on-girl thing isn’t his biggest fantasy. That’s taking you to bed, which I totally support if I can join in. But don’t let him write a process manual on how to deal with you unless you want him to tell you what to wear. He’s insanely possessive. Now me personally, I don’t care how many men look at you as long as they don’t fucking touch. That should be rule number one in the manual.”