by Lora Leigh
She was unaware of the looks the other women gave her, the way they examined each piece she placed in her basket, and how Courtney used her cell phone to catch several pictures of her. Just so they could be sure that certain parties would overhear them discussing the articles when they met at Courtney's later that evening.
They talked her into a pair of heels that made her look like a sex goddess with her petite figure, and a pair of boots to match a too-short dress that she knew she would never wear.
The black boots hugged her legs and went over the knees. Three-inch heels and a hidden zipper.
They went very well with the just-below-the-thigh deep violet dress that she blushed at the thought of wearing.
So why had she bought it? Because she looked at it and saw the woman who hid inside her.
And she bought it because that woman desperately needed something as wild as she wanted to be.
The dress was more tease than reveal. But it was a dress a woman knew would draw looks, a dress guaranteed to stimulate interest.
By the time they collapsed in their chairs around the table one of the more exclusive restaurants had held for them, Kia was exhausted. Her feet were throbbing, and the wine she had with her meal had her smothering a yawn.
"I've had enough, Ella," Kimberly moaned as she sat back in her chair and stared at her empty wineglass balefully. "If I have one more drink, or have to enter one more store, Jared is going to have to leave the office and cart me home. He won't be pleased, you know." Her nose wrinkled mischievously. "Maybe."
Kia smiled at that knowing addition to her declaration.
"I've had it, too." Jaci glared at Ella. "Cameron didn't tell me you were worse than a drill sergeant when you went shopping. He's supposed to know these things."
"Cameron knows." Courtney laughed. "Ian sent him and Chase to tag along several times last year when the negotiations on some piece of property got nasty. They swore the next time Ian drafted them as bodyguards, they were quitting."
"Oh, but they were definite eye candy," Kimberly drawled. "Dark and fierce, and oh so sexy."
"Hey, one of those dark, fierce, oh-so-sexys belongs to me," Jaci protested with a good-natured laugh. "How the hell am I supposed to look him in the eye without cracking up when I get home if you sit and sigh over him? Sigh over your own hunks."
"That, dear, is the fun in shopping with us." Ella reached over and patted her hand playfully.
"You get to snicker when you get home, and he'll wonder exactly why you're so amused. It keeps them on their toes."
"Yeah, and we get to watch Ella blush every time we talk about James's hard abs." Courtney laughed back at the older woman. "We managed to get pictures when he was working out at the club pool one day."
And Ella did blush, to the roots of her hair. "You girls are evil," she hissed playfully. "Evil."
Laughter filled the table then.
"I love it when we manage to slip something on them." Kimberly's low laughter was fond, affectionate. "They're such men."
"James did not love it when he found out about those pictures," Ella moaned. "He pouted for weeks."
They laughed as Kia smiled at the byplay.
"Cameron thinks all of you are insane," Jaci accused them. "I think he's terrified of you."
"He should be," Ella charged. "You should remind him, I've known him for many, many years.
He and his brother both. There's not much they've done that doesn't get around eventually."
Kia lowered her head, terrified by the thought of showing too much interest at this point. She wanted to hear more, needed to hear more.
Jaci said no more, though, and the subject changed again, and once again when Kia finished her wine and stood up.
"Ladies, I'm calling it a day," she told them before turning to Ella as she rose as well. "Thank you for having me along."
"We'll make certain we kidnap you again next time." Ella laughed before hugging her warmly.
"Tell your mother I said hello, and I hope to talk to her soon."
"Soon." Kia nodded and picked up her purse from the floor, thankful she'd had her purchases sent to her apartment rather than carrying them, and left the table.
She nodded to the mâitre d' at the arch of his brows asking about a cab, and knew one would be waiting when she stepped out of the entrance to the restaurant.
She had barely stepped into the lobby when she paused, her chin lifting at the sight of Drew standing beside the entrance.
He was barely six feet tall, still in reasonably good shape. Perfectly cut and sculpted brown hair, brown eyes, a fake tan, and a scowl. Drew hadn't changed much in the past two years.
Inhaling slowly, she moved toward the doors as the cab pulled up.
For two years he had maintained a distance, though he had never stayed completely away. He showed up at the parties she was invited to, stared at her, glared at her, watched her every move. He still called, he still tried to convince her to return to him, to give him another chance.
She wanted nothing more than to remain as far away from him as possible.
"Not even a hello, darling?" he drawled spitefully as he blocked the door, then edged her to the side.
She was aware of the controlling maneuver, of his knowledge that she wouldn't cause a scene by attempting to struggle past him.
"Not even a hello." She stood still and calm, staring back at him. "Get out of my way."
He sneered back at her as he glanced outside the tall, wide windows that looked out on the street. "I don't see Khalid's limo waiting for you. Or Chase. Have you fallen out of favor already?"
Kia remained silent. She stared out the window, watching as she lost her cab to another couple.
She had no intention of arguing with him publicly.
"I saw who you left the ball with," he hissed, surprising her. "Just as I waited outside our fucking apartment building and saw who left later. You fucking mealymouthed hypocrite."
Kia felt her flush as she backed away from him, embarrassed horror beginning to grow inside her.
"Evidently, I should have paid closer attention to where your eyes wandered," he snapped. "You never could keep your fucking eyes off Chase Falladay, then you scream and cry when I try to give you what you want?"
His voice was still low enough that he hadn't drawn attention. She stared around the lobby, catching the mâitre d's gaze as he frowned at Drew. When he turned away, she felt her heart rate spike.
"Look at me, Kia," he snarled.
She turned back to him. "We have nothing to discuss, Mr. Stanton. Please let me by."
Reining in her own anger wasn't easy. For two years he had caused her no end of grief. He had managed to interfere with several of the charitable projects she still chaired through her father's company, where he still had a job. He continually played the abused partner to her parents and managed to draw some sympathy from them.
"You're whoring yourself for them." Anger stamped his features. "He wouldn't agree to be
a third two years ago; do you think he's doing it now for any reason other than the friendship of that bastard Khalid?"
Shock ripped a gash through her soul as he spat the words at her. Good Lord, surely he hadn't asked Chase… Not that. But she knew he would have. That he had. And Chase had never said a word.
"Stay away from me, Drew!" She stepped up to him, snapping the order into his face, baring her teeth as rage began to tear through her. "Stay away from me or I'll have a restraining order placed against you. I won't tell you a second time."
She pushed past him as he suddenly stepped back, surprising her. She swept through the doors, hailing a cab that just happened to be passing and stepping into it quickly. She was shaking, furious.
He had asked Chase to be his third, and Chase had never told her? She wanted to cover her face in mortification. Whether because he had asked, or because Chase had turned him down, she couldn't decide.
She felt humiliated to the very core of her being and prayed now that she didn't see Chase anytime soon. God, how messed up could her life get?
Khalid stepped up to Drew Stanton slowly from where he had stood in an alcove, his gaze unblinking, his expression still and calm; he made certain of it.
The smaller man paled, rather as he had done the night he had attempted to rape his wife and found the point of Khalid's dagger against his throat.
Khalid had agreed to be his third once. Once, because Drew's wife had that latent, unawakened sensuality that always attracted Khalid.
If he'd wondered about Drew giving him the key to the apartment and the time to arrive, then Khalid hadn't questioned it. Each member of Ian Sinclair's men's club had his own way of handling such affairs, just as Khalid did.
When he arrived, Kia had appeared lost in the pleasure her husband had been giving her. As Khalid joined, it hadn't taken long to learn that pleasure was drunkenness, and when she realized another man had touched her, hysteria had filled her.
He couldn't blame her. He thanked God daily that Stanton had heeded the point of Khalid's dagger and never revealed who his third was that night.
"I wasn't bothering her." Drew dampened his lips nervously as his back came against the wall.
Khalid stopped.
"I can have you killed slowly," he whispered to him then. "Stolen from your bed, taken to a desert that will never know your name, and tortured until you beg for hell. Do you want this, little man?" he insulted him.
Drew paled alarmingly.
"You have harmed her enough," Khalid stated.
"She's my wife."
Khalid smiled slowly. "You wish to see hell?"
Drew shook his head quickly.
"Then heed my warning. Heed it well. Because we both know, worm, I would have no problem cutting your balls off and feeding them to my pets. Don't we?"
He didn't wait for a response. He moved to the doors instead and left the restaurant as his limo pulled up to the curb.
Sliding into the back he looked into the rearview mirror where his chauffeur watched him.
"Ms. Rutherford's apartment building, Abdul. It seems I have some business there."
Abdul nodded and the limo slid smoothly from the curb. Perhaps, Khalid thought, he should have just killed Drew Stanton when he had the proper excuse. Now that messy conscience of his would just bother Khalid.
For a day or two.
Chapter 8
Chase slammed the file drawer closed, ignoring his twin's amusement, before he paced back to his desk and sat down heavily. He opened the next file, but damned if he could see a word he was reading. All he could think about was Kia. That damned stoic, somber look on her face the last time he'd seen her. Her gaze had been quiet; there hadn't even been anger there, just this prideful acceptance that he wasn't going to stay.
"You know, Marcy Stephens bragged quite horribly about the nights you and Cameron spent in her bed. She swears Cameron was the one who escaped moments after his release and you were the one who petted her through the night. She must have managed to get the two of you mixed up."
His jaw clenched as he remembered the quiet accusation in her voice. He had stayed and held the others through the night, so why couldn't he hold her?
Because he was a damned fool, that was exactly why. Because Kia was like a train wreck waiting to happen to his heart. He couldn't stay the hell away from her, but that didn't mean he had to make things worse by allowing feelings to develop.
Keep it on the physical level, he told himself. Keep emotion out of it and neither of them was going to get hurt.
So why the hell did he feel like the biggest bastard walking because he hadn't called her?
Because she hadn't been at that damned dinner the night before he spent the night with her.
Because he hadn't asked her to join him and his friends later in the week.
Because he knew he wanted her with him, and he couldn't make himself make the call.
As he sat there mentally kicking himself, the door opened and Ian walked in. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it as Chase lifted his head and glared back.
Ian frowned.
"I'm certain I should blame you for this," he said casually. "I'll find a way to prove it's your fault, Chase."
Chase closed the file and folded his hands on top of it, looking back at his employer with an attempt at politeness.
"What did he do this time?" Cameron asked Ian almost gleefully. "Do we get to flog him?"
"Grow up," Chase snapped back at Cameron.
Ian snorted. "Courtney went shopping today."
Chase grunted at that. "It's not my fault she goes shopping."
"No, but it's entirely your fault, I'm quiet certain of it, that she called me and asked me to please tell you to check your e-mail. Now, my wife is plotting, planning, and conniving, and I'm going to
blame you."
Chase felt his balls tighten in fear. Anytime Courtney plotted, planned, or connived, a man needed to be terrified.
He turned to his computer, pulled up the e-mail, and clicked on her message.
This is what she bought at our shopping trip. Won't she look just luscious? And there was an attachment.
Chase clicked the attachment as though it were viral. It opened, the thumbnail pictures causing his heart to begin beating a harsh tattoo as Cameron and Ian moved behind him.
The lingerie was so sinful he was going to explode. Red and black, virginal white, and a deep sapphire blue. Camisettes and camisoles, bustiers and corsets and panties so delicate he swore he could feel a fine film of sweat on his brow as he saw the pictures someone had taken with her cell phone.
And her expression as she chose the items. A little distant, a sensual smile tipping her lips, as though she were imagining what her lover would think.
He clicked off the file quickly.
"Get off!" He snarled b
ack at his brother and employer as he wiped the sweat from his brow and forced himself to remain in his chair rather than rushing to her apartment and begging her, pleading on bent knee, to allow him to see her in each damned article.
"Damn, I hope Jaci was paying attention to what she bought." Cameron sighed. "Better yet, I hope not. I'm too young for a stroke."
A stroke was the least of Chase's worries now.
He lifted his gaze to Ian. "Inform Courtney, please, that was uncalled for." She was conniving against him. He'd known she'd end up doing it, just not this quickly.
Ian grinned. "Yes, I assumed this was your fault. What did you do? Forget the Rutherford girl's birthday? Some kind of personal anniversary?"
Chase almost paled. No, Kia would have never told those women he refused to spend the night with her. But she might have denied a relationship. Because there was no relationship.
"I am not involved in a relationship with her." The words torn from his lips, forced past them.
Ian's brow lifted. He swore Cameron was choking with laughter behind him.
"You don't say," Ian drawled, black brows lifting in his darkly tanned face.
"That's exactly what I said," he growled.
Ian glanced to Cameron. "He's a bit touchy on the subject, isn't he?"
"A bit." Cameron still sounded choked.
Chase was ready to turn and smack the air back in his brother's lungs when his cell phone rang.
Picking it up from the desk, he tensed and cursed.
The number for the junior investigator they had watching Kia for any signs that Drew was harassing her showed up on the display.
"Falladay," he answered.
"Mr. Falladay, Mr. Stanton caught Ms. Rutherford in the lobby of a restaurant I followed her to.
They had a confrontation. I was able to pick up bits and pieces of it but she left rather upset. I've followed her back to her apartment and Mr. Stanton is now lingering in the lobby there."
"What did you hear?"
