Their Virgin Secretary (Masters of Ménage #6)(120)

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?"