Chapter Five
The Knights’ address was Number Three, O’Leary Circle, Destiny, Colorado.
Awestruck, Megan walked between Eric and Scott along the gorgeous walkway up to their home.
Phoebe had been right. This wasn’t a house—this was a mansion. It was massive enough to house ten families, not just two brothers. And it was just one of three unique-looking estates on this most exclusive street in Destiny. In fact, O’Leary Circle didn’t have any other homes on it.
Eight marble two-story columns created a most impressive front to the structure. “What style is this?”
Eric rolled his eyes. “Now you’ve gone and done it, sweetheart.”
“What?”
“Scott fancies himself an expert in architectural history.” Eric offered her his arm as they walked up the steps to the massive wooden doors.
“Don’t listen to my Luddite brother. Architecture has a far greater impact on society in the long term than sculptures, paintings, even music. Master architects give us the places to work, play, and raise our children. Our lives are spent in their designs. What they do matters.”
“I see what you mean,” she said to Eric. “He’s passionate. Scott, my mother’s house is perfect for me but I’m sure no master architect designed it.”
“What kind of house is it?” Scott asked.
“Simple. Ranch style. One floor. Built in 1962. Nothing like yours.”
“Most likely your mom’s home has influences of several masters in its design. For instance, Joe Eichler made the ranch home widely available when he developed huge housing tracts for returning vets of World War II who could buy a home using the GI Bill.”
Megan nodded, recalling the day she and her mother had been visited by the very first owner’s widow. The woman had knocked on the door, asking if she could tour the house one last time. Her mom had welcomed her in with open arms. Megan had listened to the elderly lady share stories about her husband for over an hour. After the woman had left, her mom had taken the time to remind Megan, age seven then, to treat seniors with respect. Always. So many life lessons her mother had given her. God, she missed her every day.
“Enough, bro.” Eric opened the double ancient wooden doors. “Let’s get our new assistant settled in before you start another lecture about Frank Lloyd Wright, Louis Kahn, or Andrea Palladio.”
“My God, you actually do listen.”
“Until my ears bleed, bro.”
Megan laughed. The brotherly ribbing was sweet. “What kind of style is your place?”
“It’s a modern interpretation of a sixteenth-century Italian Renaissance style,” Scott answered as they stepped into the foyer of the mansion.
Her jaw dropped. Their entry was as big as her mother’s entire home. Twenty feet above her head was a dome that acted as the ceiling to this space. In the center of it was a round skylight that let the sun in. On the walls were paintings that must’ve cost more than ten homes like her mom’s.
“Follow me,” Eric instructed, and of course, she did.
As they headed up the stairs, she moved her eyes over the incredible home. She’d known that Eric and Scott were rich, but this place was way beyond a run-of-the-mill millionaire’s home. Of course, they were billionaires, so it made sense. Down a hallway, she looked to her right and saw an oak-paneled library with a beautifully carved plaster ceiling, stained-glass windows, and a large stone fireplace. Elegant yet masculine. It suited them.
They turned a corner and another door was open. The room beyond was painted black, and in the center of it was a contraption she couldn’t identify, not quite a table but not quite a bench either. When she saw the items on the table next to the strange thing, her breath caught in her chest. Sex toys? Three of them were shaped like giant penises.
The only things that had helped her through the last five years had been her romance novels. She and her mother had read sweet ones together during her chemo sessions. Megan discovered much hotter ones after Kip’s arrest that spoke to her on both a romantic and erotic level. She devoured book after book, enjoying a wide variety of erotic romance stories—ménage à trios, sex toys, and yes, even BDSM. But reading and doing were two entirely different things.
“You’re curious, aren’t you?” Eric said with a wicked grin.
She shook her head and looked down at her feet, hoping he couldn’t read her mind. Were Eric and Scott like some of the men in the books she loved? Her heart pounded hard in her chest, and she felt tingly all over.
Eric cupped her chin, gently pressing her to look up. She did. “I told you not to worry, Megan. Remember?”
“Yes, but—”
“But nothing. You never have to go into this room or even think about it.” He reached over and shut the door to the naughty space. “Whatever you need, Megan, that’s what you’ll get from us. Understand?”
“I guess so.” Kip had worked for Eric and Scott. Why would he choose to steal from them? So far, they’d been generous and kind to her. Was there another side to the Knight brothers she had yet to see? Recalling her wedding night, she bet there was only one person responsible for the crimes. Kip only cared about Kip. The bastard was a total user. Nothing more. Once the three months were over, she would have the money to hire the right attorney—maybe Phoebe—to finally get her marriage annulled even without Kip’s signature. Be Your Own Lawyer was a book she’d gotten from the lib