Their Virgin Secretary(43)

Kellan wasn’t big on fantasy films. Tate really did eat somewhat like a hobbit. He was constantly snacking, but somehow that didn’t affect his perfect body.

Belle walked into the kitchen and found utter chaos. The big table was covered by paperwork and computers. Cords slithered across the tables like snakes entwined with one another. Cups of coffee cooled in between all the other clutter. Someone had placed a TV on the counter. Currently, the little device spit out news and stock quotes while Tate and Eric both spoke into their cell phones.

“Don’t you dare pull that clause on me. That is not the intent of the verbiage, nor is it the language. I will sue you so hard, your children will still be feeling it when they turn eighteen. Do you understand me?” Tate was a sweetheart with her, but he got pissed off when people used his words against him. Belle swore sometimes that he grew claws and fangs when he went into lawyer mode.

“No. No, I can’t make that date. We need to settle this. I understand that we have science on our side, but they have a sick little girl with asthma holding her teddy bear. Have you looked at the visuals on this one? No one is going to listen to a bunch of boring medical journals. We’re going to lose.” Eric ran a hand across his head in an obvious sign of frustration. “We need a different strategy pronto.”

Belle stared at her formally grubby kitchen. Every surface she could see appeared to have been wiped clean, then utilized as office space.

She turned on Kellan. “What the hell is going on here?”

He smiled sardonically. “Welcome to the New Orleans branch of Baxter, Cohen, and Kent. I think it’s going well for a startup, don’t you?”

She gaped at them. They could not be serious. In fact, she could think of a dozen reasons that was impossible—starting with the fact that they didn’t have licenses to practice law in Louisiana. Not only that, they could not run a business out of her kitchen. What about their office and life back home?

Eric put a hand over his phone. “Belle, baby, did you get the latest numbers from the EPA on the Hanover case?”

She’d put them on his desk last week. Unfortunately, his desk was in Chicago. “This is my kitchen. There are no latest numbers on the Hanover case here.”

Kellan reached over her toaster and pulled some paperwork off what appeared to be a damn fax machine. “Here you go. I had Sequoia fax them. What a surprise. He sent a note protesting the use of fax machines and said to pass that on to you, too. Apparently we shouldn’t use hard copies because it’s bad for the environment.” He turned back to her with a sigh. “Give me one good reason I can’t fire him.”

Belle half heard Kell. What had these crazy men done? Instead of using their heads and realizing they couldn’t possibly run a practice from her house, they’d bought every piece of office equipment known to man and set it up in her kitchen. She was fairly certain she glimpsed a copy machine in the butler’s pantry. “Given his connections, you know you can’t. Don’t forget, you have a very nice office in Chicago. Then Sequoia wouldn’t have to fax you anything. Much comfier chairs there as well. This doesn’t make a good office.”

Eric covered his phone and murmured, “But you’re here.”

Belle didn’t want to, but she melted a bit.

“See that you do, you piece of crap,” Tate yelled into his phone, then paused. “Sure. Yeah, tell your mom hi for me.” Another pause. “I doubt Wednesday will work. It looks like I’ll be here for a while and the Internet sucks, but I’ll see what I can do. Good luck on the raid.” He frowned as he hung up the phone. “Sorry, that was Phil from Greene and Associates. He’s such an ass, but he’s in my guild. We’re supposed to raid Jondor on Wednesday.”

Most lawyers made deals on the golf course. Not the new geek. Instead, they made contacts in role-playing games online.

“There’s something deeply wrong with you.” Belle shook her head, trying not to smile.

Eric grinned, and before she could stop herself, her heart skipped a beat. “Hey, you should be glad you weren’t around for his LARPing days. You think online games are weird, try a hundred geeks dressed in medieval wear, throwing little bags at each other and calling them spells.”

Tate flushed. “I was trying to sleep with a girl. At least LARPing was more fun than those foreign films Belle made me see.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I didn’t make you do anything. You showed up at that festival and said you were a huge fan of Siberian cinema.”

Tate groaned. “Babe, not even Siberians watch that shit. Seriously. It made me want to open a vein and bleed out.” The sexiest smile heated his face, taking him from boyish to such a man. Then his voice dropped to an intimate growl. “But I was trying to sleep with a girl then, too.”

Just like that her pussy clenched. Oh, they couldn’t stay—or she’d do something she would regret. “You’re going back to Chicago today, right?”

“Of course not.” Eric frowned. “We need to put the HVAC unit on the list of items to have serviced. It seems to be malfunctioning. You look awfully cold.” His glance lingered on her, and Belle had no idea what he was hinting at. “I’ve also felt icy spots in the house.”

Belle wasn’t worried about being chilly now, not when she was getting hot just being near them. “It’s on my list. I’ll take care of it.”

She wasn’t about to fess up that her room had gotten so cold the night before that she’d seen her breath. Surely, that had been a freak occurrence.

Fighting a smile, Kellan’s stare caressed her chest before taking a slow path back to her face. “I believe Eric is referring to your nipples, Belle. They’re very hard right now. If you’re not cold, then you must have been having some juicy dreams.”

She gasped and folded her arms over her chest. “The state of my nipples are none of your concern.”

“I could warm them up for you,” Tate offered. “Hands or mouth? Your choice.”

She ignored him. “What am I supposed to do with all this stuff when you leave? You are flying back to your jobs and responsibilities soon, right?”

“Nope,” Eric replied. “Like we said, you’re here, so we’re opening a practice in New Orleans. Unless you’re ready to go home with us.”