Dane shook his head. “I’m in information retrieval.”

She gave him a confused frown. “And what does that mean?”

“It means when Jed needs information, I track it down for him.”

Her breath caught in her chest, but she shoved down the trepidation threatening to choke her as she flashed a quick glance at Jared. “And what information are you tracking for Jared now?”

Dane shrugged. “Mainly boring stuff. Local zoning laws, tax structures, things like that.”

Okay, that sounded innocuous enough. But she still couldn’t shake the feeling that that’s not all Dane was investigating.

The way he looked at her, like he was dissecting her…

Was she reading too much into this?

Or had Jared invited Dane here to join them in bed?

Her heart pounded as Dane’s expression gave nothing away, and her gaze flipped back to Jared.

Hunger started to show in the darkening of his eyes and the line of his mouth. That gorgeous mouth that gave her so much pleasure.

“Are you wondering if he’s going to join us in bed, Belle?”

All the air left the room and her lungs collapsed in on themselves. “Jared…”

He took a step forward, their bodies almost touching. “Are you thinking about New Year’s Eve? You remember him, don’t you?”

God, yes, now she could think of nothing else. Her mouth went dry and her hands clenched into fists, practically aching with the desire to touch him. To be touched.

By both of them.

Jared’s features had sharpened with lust. He had to have seen her thoughts in her eyes, read it in her body language. He took another step closer and this time she took a step back. Right into Dane.

Dane’s hands settled on her shoulders, light and unconfining. But her reaction to his touch was anything but. She began to burn.

Oh, holy hell, this was screwed up.

“No, don’t start to analyze it.” Jared cupped her chin in one hand, forcing her to hold his gaze. “Pleasure isn’t bad. If no one gets hurt, there’s no need for embarrassment or regret. I asked Dane here to help me out but yes, I specifically asked him to come here. To stay the night.”

Jared didn’t ask her permission for Dane to stay. But she didn’t feel like he was forcing her to agree to take Dane into her bed.

And if she had to admit it, if only to herself…she wanted to explore that passion again, that sense of freedom.

“Belle, do you want Dane to leave?”

She took a deep breath and shook her head. “No. He can stay. But traffic may be heavy today. The weekends always pick up and the shop’s open until eight tonight. I won’t have time to talk until later.”

Jared controlled the smile that might have made Annabelle run for the hills. Or kick him and Dane to the curb.

“Then Dane and I will get out of your hair for awhile.”

He bent to kiss her, forceful enough that he pressed her even more fully against Dane. She didn’t flinch. And when he knew she was about to open her mouth and let him in, he pulled away.

Belle’s cheeks blushed a very pretty pink before she carefully stepped out from between him and Dane.

“I’ve got work to do.”

She walked away and he turned to watch, her fiery braid twitching down the back of her dark green T-shirt and that luscious ass swaying in her tight jeans.

Christ, he’d be hard all day.

When he’d called Dane yesterday, he’d wondered if he would be pushing her too far, too fast.

Yes, she’d enjoyed the party on New Year’s Eve, but that had been a moment out of time for her. She’d never told him otherwise, but he knew the moment Dane had touched her that night, that she’d never had two men make love to her at the same time. It wasn’t a situation most women found themselves in. It wasn’t a situation most men would be comfortable with.

He wasn’t most men. And neither was Dane.

Her agreement to let Dane stay made Jared feel like swinging from a vine.

Because Jared knew, with Dane’s help, he could make Belle burn hotter than she ever had. He could take her to a whole new level of pleasure.

“I thought I was about to be shown the door.” Dane’s voice drew his attention and Jared turned to see his friend watching him closely. “You sure this is what she wants?”

“Believe me, Annabelle will let you know exactly what she’s thinking. If she doesn’t want you in her bed, she’ll tell you to get the hell out.”

Dane paused, as if thinking that one over. “You want to tell me why I’m here now? I mean, besides the sex? I know you, Jed. There’s something else going on.”

* * *

“You’re serious?”

“Yes.”

Dane took a sip of coffee as they sat at a table at the diner down the road, their booth far enough removed from anyone who might overhear them. “You really think she could be O’Malley’s daughter?”

“Yes.”

Jared watched Dane think about that for a few seconds.

“Based on the fact that she has two O’Malleys in her collection?”

“Three. I told you about the portrait I saw in her hall. No way that wasn’t an O’Malley. And I noticed tonight she’s moved it. No idea where. Like she hid it.”

Dane paused again. “So what if she is? Are you planning to expose her?”

Jared grimaced. “Hell, no. Christ, the tabloids and the national media brutalized this story when it happened. The girl was fourteen and pictures of her parents’ dead bodies were everywhere. I hope whoever leaked those photos goes to hell and fast. No, I just…I need to know.”

“Then why not ask her?”

Because if she lied…

He shook his head. “Just do it, okay? And make sure no one else finds out what you’re up to.”

Dane rolled his eyes. “You know, if this doesn’t turn out to be a wild goose chase, and she really is who you think, she’s going to be pissed as hell that you pried into her background.”

“I know that. Which is why I never want her to know. I don’t want her to be hurt by this.”

“Then what difference will it make?”

“It won’t make any difference. Just do it, Dane. Get me the information. Now, about those property taxes…”

* * *

Jared set up at one of the tables in the farthest corner from the door of the shop. He’d opened an area real estate site with the intention of browsing available properties but found himself watching Annabelle instead.

Since he’d returned after meeting with Dane, who’d gone upstairs to start digging into Annabelle’s background, a steady stream of customers flowed through the shop.

Annabelle spoke to each one, even if only to say hello and let them know to ask if they needed any help. Most were browsers with no intention to buy. They strolled through the aisles, stopped to run their hands over a chest or pick up a plate but moved on to the next shop empty-handed.

A few were seriously looking for specific pieces. Annabelle helped them take measurements, wrote the figures on the back of one of her business cards, and spent as much time with the customers as they needed. She didn’t push but she asked questions about where they were going to use the piece and how, what the rest of the décor looked like. She took a genuine interest in what they were looking for and those customers, even if they didn’t buy anything, ended their visits by promising to return and to bring friends, all of whom would “love this place.”

The two customers who did buy something left with huge grins on their faces, completely satisfied.

The first sale had been to a previous customer who’d returned to buy the sideboard he’d been looking at for at least two months.

Annabelle remembered the man by name, asked about his family, then got down to business. They bargained for five minutes, and when they agreed on a price that even Jared might not have paid for the piece, they smiled, shook hands, and made arrangements for it to be delivered to his home next week.

The second sale…Well, that one boggled his mind.

The couple was well dressed but not ostentatious. They’d walked around the store not stopping at anything until the woman spied the painting.

Hell, even Jared could see it was love at first sight.

She stopped and stared, went to move on but stopped again. She checked the price, her mouth pursing and eyes narrowing before she’d moved on. But not far before she returned to stand in front of it again. Her husband returned in a few minutes.

They’d held a short, hushed conversation, which consisted mainly of the woman speaking and the man shaking his head.

Annabelle had said hello when they’d first walked in but she’d been answering questions from another couple. Now, Annabelle made her move.

“It’s lovely, isn’t it?”

The woman turned to her with an almost apologetic smile. “Yes, it is. It reminds me of my granddaughter.”

Jared took another look at the portrait and hoped like hell the woman’s granddaughter was cuter than the artwork.

Then again, there was no accounting for taste. He didn’t think much of the painting but he wasn’t into primitive Americana, which was definitely what that painting looked like.

He turned out to be right as Belle told the woman its pedigree—the artist, when it was painted, where it came from.

“I’m not much of a collector,” the woman said with a small laugh. “I just think it’s such a beautiful piece.”

“That’s what you said about the last three you bought,” her husband teased. “Got to admit, that one does look like Christie, though.”

For the next five minutes, Belle talked to the couple about their grandchildren, all five of them. She found out they were both retired schoolteachers who enjoyed antiquing.