The Virgin Secretary: A Billionaire Romance

by Cross, Veronica

  Harvey Coville had made a simple demand; stay away from the Vangess family or be disinherited.

  “Go to Vivian Collier and propose immediately,” Harvey had said. “If you do not comply, I will write you from my will and business today.”

  Alex did not tell Olivia that the thought of being penniless and without a title was terrifying nor did he mention that he had agreed to the engagement. It was irrelevant because he had no intention of marrying Vivian Collier. He would merely propose to her as a means of distraction until he could investigate and eventually get to the bottom of what had occurred in Houma.

  If Arthur Vangess truly is a cold-blooded murderer, Olivia needs my protection. I cannot forsake her when she could be in danger. But first I must inform her of my plan, so she does not believe I have betrayed her.

  “I must confess something to you,” Alex told her urgently. “I have –”

  “Olivia! Olivia, are you outside?” Mary called from the back doorway.

  “Oh, I must go,” she told him, reluctantly yanking her stare from his enticing emerald orbs.

  “Wait, Olivia will you meet me later? In your woodshed, perhaps after supper?”

  Olivia nodded and rushed away as her mother called for her once more. Alex felt a knot form in his stomach.

  I must ensure she is safe. She is the one I am destined to marry.

  He had never been more certain of anything in his life.

  “This is a lovely surprise, Arthur!” Mary cooed as the family entered the restaurant. She could not recall the last time her husband had brought his brood for an outing.

  “Well I fear that we shall be stuck with Constance if we do not introduce her to society,” Arthur replied, ushering the women into the elegant establishment. They were immediately seated at a fine table in the center of the room where they were easily the focus of all attention.

  Connie scowled at the comment.

  “If I had an interest in marriage, I certainly would not entertain such a notion in this town,” she muttered, her hazel eyes challenging her father. Arthur glowered, and for a moment, Olivia thought he intended to strike her there in the dining room. Instead, he waited for the maître d’ to seat his family and smiled coldly at his eldest daughter.

  “Constance, whether you prefer to marry or not is irrelevant. You will do it, and you will do it soon. I am finding it increasingly difficult to find a suitor for you based on your age.”

  “Pity,” Connie replied, glancing at her menu nonchalantly. She gestured at a nearby server who approached quickly.

  “Champagne,” she ordered, not shifting her gaze from the expensive price list.

  “Absolutely not!” Arthur barked. “She is content with water. I will have the finest bourbon on your shelves.”

  “Champagne,” Connie repeated. Suddenly her irises locked with her father’s and Olivia was filled with dread.

  Oh, Connie, please hold your tongue. He may not do anything here to retaliate, but at some moment you will be alone with him…

  It was too late. Connie spoke.

  “I fear that I must drown my sorrows, father. Everyone in town is talking of how my own sire may be a murderer. What is a girl to do?”

  As the blood drained from Olivia and Mary’s faces, a rush of red spilled into Arthur’s cheeks.

  “What did you say to me?” he hissed, his voice barely audible in the light din of the restaurant. Connie held his look, a small smirk challenging him.

  “Oh, father, do not play coy! Surely a high-class newspaper owner such as yourself has heard what your loyal subscribers are saying. The question then becomes; are they correct in their assumptions?”

  A frigid silence grew, and the waiter ducked away inconspicuously, but Olivia was certain he was bound to tell the other staff of the conversation he had just overheard.

  “Constance! Apologize to your father!” Mary pleaded, her own green-brown eyes fraught with worry. Connie seemed not to hear her mother, the lazy beam still painted upon her pretty face.

  “I will not forget this, Constance,” Arthur promised, and none of the women at the table doubted his words.

  If he is a murderer, would he hesitate to kill his own daughter? She is not the typical victim, but these killings were done in such cold blood, would it matter? Oh, Connie, why must you antagonize him so?

  “That is hardly an answer, father but I suppose your misdirection speaks volumes,” the oldest girl snapped back, pretending to read the dinner selections.

  Olivia turned her head, tears of concern flooding her eyes. Constance was in for a severe beating at minimum.

  Why must she act so sassy? She thought woefully, glancing about. She did not wish for her father to see the water under her lids. Her eyes rested upon a table in the corner of the room, and when she realized who sat there, Olivia’s heart began to hammer. She was almost dizzy as she recognized Vivian Collier and Alex Coville in the middle of a romantic supper. Their heads were close together, and Vivian’s glamorous smile lit up the room. As if she could sense eyes upon her, the redhaired woman lifted her pale face and stared across the dining area. Olivia willed herself to look away but she could not as the two stared at one another.

  I was right not to trust him, Olivia thought, the tears releasing themselves from her dark blue eyes. He lied to me! He had me believe that I am the one he wished to be with and why? Only to use my body and disregard me? Or perhaps he wishes to have two women?

  Vivian’s grin widened at the sight of her anguish, and she rose a slender hand so the candlelight caught the sparkle of the two-carat diamond ring on her finger. Vivian reached up and carefully stroked Alex’s face deliberately, ensuring that Olivia got the full view of the jewelry before turning her attention back to the man before her. He had not noticed Olivia.

  She leaped to her feet, her face streaked unbecomingly. Her family stared at her, startled.

  “Where – what happened?” Arthur sputtered as Olivia reached for her wrap and purse, swallowing the sobs which threatened to spew relentlessly from her mouth.

  “I am unwell,” she whispered, hurrying for the door. As she stepped foot outside, a spark of lightning ripped through the sky.

  May lightning strike me dead right now, she prayed, running from the scene at her back.

  Chapter Eight

  The weather had taken a turn for the worse, and Alex found himself battling against strong winds and blinding rains as he willed his horse forward through the back roads of the bayou. He kept a cautious eye opened for alligators and he immediately thought of Cecil.

  Was Cecil murdered too or was his death simply a terrible accident? Whatever it was, it opened the inquiry behind the murders twenty years ago and inspired an imitation killer.

  The gale ripped his gleaming top hat from his head, sending it into the darkness of the swamp.

  This is madness. You should not be making such a dangerous trek in such poor weather, he told himself for the third time, but he knew he would not turn around. He had promised Olivia he would meet her in her family’s woodshed and he did not wish to keep her waiting.

  I will already be springing bad news upon her. I cannot prolong it or she will see me as orchestrating some deviant ploy for her affections. I want her to trust me inherently. When this terrible ordeal is over, I will ask for her hand in marriage, no matter what my father says. If he chooses to disinherit me, so be it. I am well educated enough that I will find meaningful employment and my family name will carry enough weight to see us through.

  He whipped the horse, urging the stallion forward despite its neighing protests.

  “Come along, Cedar. We haven’t much longer to go.”

  Suddenly, Cedar whinnied and froze. Then he began to back up in the mud while Alex gripped the reins tightly.

  “Woah, Cedar. What do see?” he asked the beast gently, leaning forward to stroke his dark mane. “Is it a gator?”

  As Alex peered into the blackness, he saw something, and he started. Someone was walking
against the storm in the murky night.

  “Hello?” he called, forcing Cedar to continue forth. Reluctantly he obliged, and Alex called out again.

  “Hello?” he yelled louder. This time the figure stopped and turned to stare at him. It was Olivia.

  “Miss Vangess, what are you doing out here?” he demanded, leaning forward to offer his hand but to his shock, she turned and moved further into the night.

  “Olivia!” he cried, prodding Cedar. “Olivia stop!”

  To his shock, she whirled and stared at him, her face contorted in anger.

  “You bastard!” she screamed against the howling wind. “You are betrothed to Vivian Collier!”

  Shame overwhelmed Alex, and he began to shake his head in denial, but she was already moving into the inky blackness.

  “Olivia, it is dangerous for you to be out here. Please, come with me. I can explain everything to you!”

  She did not slow her gait, and Alex swooped down with a muscular arm, yanking her up by her tiny waist. She bellowed in fury, kicking her legs wildly at the gesture but he managed to secure her on the saddle. She reached out to slap his face.

  “Leave me be!” she moaned, tears slipping from her navy colored eyes. “You are precisely what everyone claimed you to be.”

  “No, my love, no!” he whispered, staring into her rain-soaked face. “It is only you I wish to marry. I will explain everything when we have found sanctuary, but you must believe me. I have no intention of wedding Vivian.”

  Olivia regarded him, considering his words. To his shock, she grabbed his face and pulled his lips to hers.

  “Show me,” she murmured. “Show me that I am the only one for whom you burn.”

  Eagerly, Alex returned her hungry embrace, his mouth moving about her soaking face with passion. Cedar moved onward, his pace slow but steady and Alex released the reins to embrace Olivia whole. Against the pelting rain, his kisses met her soft, skin, following the contours of her slender neck. Her shawl fell haplessly into the mud, only to be trampled by Cedar’s hooves. Alex unfettered her lace bodice, his tongue tracing lines smoothly toward the erect skin of her nipples. Inside his mouth, he sucked the taut, pink flesh until she moaned. As Cedar set the pace, Olivia’s own palms caressed the front of his bulging trousers, undoing the buttons so his tumescent hardness was sprinkled with the tears of the gods. With strong arms, he gently lifted her rear off the bridle, pulling up her skirts. Her corset was an obstacle to his throbbing shaft, but with one bout of overzealous strength, he ripped the thick fabric from Olivia’s most intimate area. Her cry of surprise was lost in the storm, but Alex saw the look of shock and excitement in her dark blue eyes. He paused, his face inches from hers and stared at her imploringly. Never in his life had he wanted a woman more than he wanted Olivia Vangess but he wanted her to want him.

  I cannot bear the thought of her regretting our lovemaking. She must be certain.

  “Please, take me,” she whispered, her expression alight with passion and pleading. His mouth crushed against hers and he slid his manhood fully into her waiting core. Nails curled into the soft skin of his broad shoulders, and Alex froze, ready to withdraw. Olivia pulled him deeper, her hips slowly making circles to meet his sweet, thrust. Cedar set the motion for their movement, Alex beginning to work himself further and further into her hotness. Harder her fingers grasped, encouraging him to pick up speed. Small screams escaped her throat as her lover began to lose control of himself, his pulsating hardness pushing harder and faster into her depth. A combination of the deep thunder and rocking horse creating a dream-like state in his actions. Olivia’s legs raised around his hips, drawing him in closer and he felt as if he was inside her entirely, consuming her, becoming a part of her. Her thighs tightened painfully against his naked waist, and hot gushes spilled against him, her head thrown back almost toward the level of Cecil’s mane. Alex could tell she had climaxed and exhaled in relief now that he was free to do the same. He filled her with scalding seed, burst after burst. As if mimicking him, lightening lit up the sky with each stream he deposited into her center.

  Spent, he lay upon her heavily, breathing shakily.

  “Are you all right, darling?” he whispered, worriedly. Olivia did not respond, but she clenched herself more firmly about his buttocks, unwilling to release him from her clutches. He smiled to himself.

  I was correct. She is my fated mate. I was destined to be with her. Never have I ever felt so close to a woman after lovemaking. I never want to be outside of her.

  “Alex, we are home,” she told him suddenly, shaking him from his thoughts. He peered against the whipping rain and nodded.

  “I will leave you here and return in the morrow,” he told her, glancing nervously toward the house.

  “No, you may stay. My family is not here.”

  Cedar gratefully lead them into the safety of the barn with the other horses and the duo rushed into the house to dry and talk.

  They slipped into the library, Alex in a pair of Arthur’s old clothes. He was seated on the bench of the piano while Olivia sat on the floor at his legs. He held a hairbrush and gently combed the tangles from her dark mane.

  “Why did you agree to marry Vivian Collier?” she asked broken-heartedly. “You told me you had broken off your courtship.”

  “I had, my love,” he insisted. “But I was forced to rekindle the relationship.”

  “Forced? By whom? This sounds very much a game to me, Alex. One you are playing with my heart.”

  “It is not, I promise you, Olivia. I have no desire to marry anyone but you and I will not marry anyone but you.”

  “You are speaking in riddles,” she sighed. Alex could sense that she was regretting giving herself to him so freely. He placed the brush down on the piano bench.

  “Look at me,” he urged. Reluctantly, she obliged, staring up at him dully.

  “Something strange happened here twenty years ago, something which involves both of our families. I suspect that both of our fathers have something to hide which is why they are interested in keeping us apart from one another.”

  “Do you truly believe one of them was guilty of such awful crimes?” Olivia asked, her eyes wide.

  “I cannot speak to your father, Olivia, but my father is certainly no angel. It would not shock me to know that he has some skeletons in his closet. Would you be surprised to learn your father was a killer?”

  Olivia closed her eyes, picturing Connie lying unconscious on the dining room floor, her face swelling.

  “No,” she whispered.

  “We must find out all we can about – “

  “No!” Olivia interjected. “I do not wish to know anything else. These murders are all anyone has spoken about since we arrived. I see the way people look at us in town yet because of our standing, no one dares breathe a wrong word.”

  “I assure you, I can relate to your plight,” Alex responded dryly. He looked at her thoughtfully.

  “What do you propose?”

  “I propose we allow for the law to do their jobs and we continue to ignore the stares and whispers.”

  “And what of us? Our fathers will not permit us to be together. Our only hope is that one of them is found guilty of perpetrating these heinous crimes. It is a morbid situation.”

  Olivia paused. Her hand reached up to stroke his face lovingly.

  “I do not care if my father is sent to the gallows for these crimes,” she confessed. Her eyes darted nervously to the ground in shame, but Alex caught her chin.

  “I understand,” he replied empathetically. They smiled at one another, each feeling both relief and guilt at their thoughts.

  “I will make us some tea, but then you must leave,” Olivia said suddenly, her eyes catching the time on the grandfather clock in the corner of the library. Alex nodded in agreement.

  “That sounds lovely,” he replied. He watched Olivia leave the room and turned to the piano, his fingers stroking the ivory keys with bittersweet longing.

&nb
sp; We must keep our relationship secret until the truth comes to light. They cannot hide their true character forever, Alex reasoned, his heart heavy at the thought of keeping his courtship with Olivia clandestine.

  It is the only way to ensure that everyone remains safe. Despite what Olivia says, I will continue to seek information about the murders. Police investigation tactics have improved substantially in the past years. Perhaps they have already learned information and are close to making an arrest.

  He began to tinker at the piano, a soft, slow tune slipping from his fingertips as his mind continued to whirl. In the sweetness of the simple ode which he played, the sound of the library door opening was lost. He did not see the shadow enter the room nor the pocket knife in its hand.

  Chapter Nine

  Her bare feet padding against the wood, Olivia stole into the kitchen quietly. The servants had retired for the night in their quarters in the back of the property, and she was certain she was alone.

  He loves me, she thought happily but worry still crept into her thoughts as she realized their affair would remain secret until an arrest was made.

  What if it is father whom is the killer? She wondered. Harvey Coville will never allow for his son to marry a woman tarred with the same name as a murderer!

  As she set the water on the stove for it to boil, she tried to shove the darkness from her mind, trying to ignore the surreal quality of the entire scenario.

  Someone is a killer. Someone we know well, and that knowledge will change all our lives forever.

  “What is the meaning of your abrupt departure from the restaurant?”

  Olivia physically jumped at the sound of her father’s voice. He loomed furiously in the doorway of the kitchen, and her heart began to race madly.

  There is no way to forewarn Alex that he is in the house! She thought frantically, her eyes darting about for some way to deliver him a message. She suddenly wished that the servants were still nearby for surely one of them would have the good sense to sneak him from the property before he was discovered. Like a small child, she prayed for a miracle.