by Lora Leigh
She swallowed tightly. "They won't let you."
He stared fiercely into her eyes. "I'll be right behind you, Kia."
She stared at him, and she didn't trust him. Hell, he couldn't blame her, but he'd show her. He'd be there, no matter who stood in his way, no matter what.
He moved aside as the ambulance pulled to a stop and he watched them rush her away.
"Chase!" Timothy Rutherford was out the door as Ian's limo pulled to a stop. "Is she okay?"
"She's coherent." He turned to Ian. "I had a call put in to Sanjer."
Ian nodded. "I called him from the car and talked to him personally. He should be here waiting on her. What happened?"
"Techs said it was a mugging." The hairs at the back of his neck lifted, a primal warning, a premonition he couldn't seem to shake.
"Mugging?" Timothy snapped. "That apartment building is supposed to be one of the most secure in the city."
"It is," Ian snapped. "It's one of mine. I called the manager for all security disks, and the detective in charge of the investigation will be contacting me. He should be at her apartment when she returns there."
"She won't be there." Chase turned toward the hospital doors as his brother, Jaci, Ian, Courtney, and Kia's parents watched in shock. "She'll be at my place."
He didn't see the shock on the faces of those who watched him disappear into the hospital. He wouldn't have cared if he had seen it. He'd promised Kia he would be right behind her. And he meant to keep that promise.
The headache was killing her. Kia had endured the exam, biting back a curse, and suffered in silence as the doctor stitched her head. When the nurse handed her two pills, she had taken them eagerly. It had felt as though gremlins were digging her brain out with their dull-assed fingernails.
She had flashed on a nightmare from her childhood. When she was a little girl and got horrible headaches, her doctor would always have her placed in the hospital. There they would run tests, poke and prod at her, and she would beg her parents to let her go home.
And they never would. Her mother would cry. Her father would get that miserable look on his face, and they would promise to let her go home. But they always made her stay.
Now her parents were in the room they had taken her to from the emergency room. They sat side by side near her bed. Chase stood silently at the foot of the bed, and Ian Sinclair and his wife and Cameron Falladay and Jaci were waiting outside.
Kia just wanted to go home. She wanted to curl up on the couch in front of the fire and just sleep.
"There's no sign of a concussion," Dr. Sanjer announced.
Portly and rugged, the middle-aged doctor smiled way too much.
"I'd like her to stay overnight, though," he continued.
"No." Kia didn't bother to stare up at him, just snapped the word out.
The effort caused her to wince and rub at her temple. If she could just get to her apartment, close her eyes and sleep, then everything would be just fine. She was certain of it.
"Now, Kia, leaving is a bad idea," her mother started, her voice worried.
"That's what you said when I was a child," she muttered. "I'm not staying." She looked at Chase.
"You promised."
He stared back at her, his green eyes brooding, his expression so hard it was granite. But she saw his decision as he glanced at the doctor, and nearly breathed a sigh of relief.
"Dr. Sanjer, I have an extra room at my apartment," he told the doctor. "You'll be spending the night there."
That she didn't expect. Evidently, the doctor hadn't either. He was Ian's personal physician, but a friend of Chase and Cam as well.
Sanjer sighed. "It's a good thing I like you, Chase. That order doesn't sit well."
"Please." His tone of voice was hard, his expression remorseless.
The doctor grunted.
"I'll let her leave then. I'll get what I need and be at your apartment within the hour. I want her to stay in bed tonight and tomorrow."
"I have a job," she bit out.
"You won't have one long if you don't listen to the doctor," Timothy snapped furiously. "For God's sake, Kia, when did you get so damned stubborn?"
"While you weren't looking." She felt as querulous as she sounded.
"No doubt in my mind, because if I had been looking we might have had to discuss it, little girl,"
he informed her, obviously covering his fear with his anger.
She glared back at him. "Are you staying at Chase's, too?" She looked at Chase. "You didn't mention staying with you."
Her head was splitting. She knew she really needed to protest this, but she just couldn't find the energy.
"You don't have a spare room for the doctor," he told her.
Of course, he had a reason. She sighed and stared at her hands. It wasn't because he wanted her there.
"Well, hell," she said. "I guess your couch is just as good as mine."
Chase flinched. He wasn't about to tell her exactly where she was going to be sleeping. In his bed. Right beside him.
He glanced at Rutherford, and knew her father knew. He was glaring at Chase. His expression promising retribution if Kia ended up with a broken heart.
"Sweetheart, you can come home with us," Cecilia told her.
She looked at Chase and he saw panic in her eyes. Oh Lord, no. Her mother would flutter around her and weep and worry all night long. She couldn't handle that.
"She'll go home with me," he told them. "Sanjer will be fine at the apartment, and both of you can come in the morning and stay as long as you like. Hell, follow us back if you want."
He didn't care a bit to bail her out of this one. He had no intention of allowing her to be anywhere but with him.
"Since when do you decide how she should be taken care of?" Timothy barked.
"If you don't stop arguing over me like two dogs with a bone, then I'm going to go home by myself," she informed them, pressing her hands to her temples. "God. I don't care where I go, I just want to sleep."
She was unaware of the concern that filled the air. Timothy had never seen his daughter bloody; Celia knew she'd have nightmares for years to come over it. And Chase. Chase felt as though rage was going to destroy his sanity. So help him God, if he found out who did this, he was going to kill.
"I'll get her signed out of here," Sanjer promised. "I'll be there in an hour, Chase. Have my room ready. And some food if no one minds. My dinner was interrupted tonight."
Chase moved around the bed, holding Kia's attention, seeing in her eyes the vulnerability there, the almost hidden fears and desires. He didn't bother to hide his. He wouldn't make the same mistake he had made earlier tonight. He had dared to take his eyes off her when everything inside him had screamed at him to go with her, to chase after her.
She was stuck with him now, and he wondered if tha
t might ultimately end up destroying both of them. Chase had never been one to let go of anything that belonged to him. And he was starting to feel as though Kia… belonged.
He picked her up in his arms, feeling how light she was, how fragile. He held her gaze.
"I told you," he whispered then. "It doesn't change. Only the circumstances do."
"And I told you," she whispered back. "Bet me!"
Chapter 17
Dr. Sanjer checked Kia again after Chase took her to his apartment and put her to bed. She knew it was his bed. The monstrous four-poster had to be his. Only he was tall enough to climb into it easily.
Now she lay silent, staring at the ceiling, counting off the hours as she tried to figure out exactly how she had ended up in his bed. With him in it.
She was dressed in one of Chase's T-shirts and her bronze panties. A sheet and a finely sewn heirloom quilt covered her, and beside her Chase lay, his arm thrown over her stomach as he slept.
She was lying there wishing she could roll away from him, wishing she could get enough distance between them to make sense of the feelings that kept moving through her.
She had dreamed of sleeping with him. Now that she was there, in his bed, sleep was the furthest thing from her mind. Kia just wanted to make sense of exactly what was happening, right now, inside her.
Chase lay relaxed against her, his head close to hers, his larger, more powerful body warming her. She had to restrain the urge to stroke her hand along his arms, to lay her head against his chest, and ask him why the hell he was doing this to her.
He was messing her head up, messing her heart up, and she had no idea how she was supposed to act now, or how she was supposed to feel.
Lying in his arms was heaven and hell.
She closed her eyes and fought the emotions she couldn't seem to bury deep enough to hide from. Tears flowed from the corners of her eyes, and she swore she wasn't going to turn in his arms and beg him to. make sense of this for her.
Her head was hurting. That was the problem, she assured her-self. She felt bruised and frightened, and so terribly off balance now.
Which was worse? Lying alone in her own bed, or lying with Chase and fighting to hold herself away from him?
"If you keep crying, Kia, you might well break my heart."
Her eyes jerked open as Chase shifted beside her and leaned up, staring down at her as he lifted his hand from her hip and brushed a tear from her cheek.
"It's the headache," she whispered, her lips trembling.
"I know, baby." He kissed her temple gently. "Dr. Sanjer can't give you anything more right now."
His hand cupped her neck, his fingertips moving against the back of her head, so gently.
Caressing and massaging, stroking her flesh as another tear fell.
"You're never going to let me get over you, are you?" she finally asked, feeling the gentle, easy movements at the base of her neck relaxing a bit of the pain away.
Oh, that felt nice. Her lashes fluttered closed for a moment as she breathed in, letting that slow, easy massage penetrate her brain.
"Never," he agreed, but his voice was soft, easy. A whisper of knowledge that flowed through her as he shifted closer to her, or did he pull her against him?
She wasn't certain now. She knew his fingers didn't stop that slow, easy glide, and the more he caressed the hollow at the base of her head, the more the headache eased.
"I like that," she finally sighed.
"When Cameron was a boy, he used to get headaches," he told her. "I'd watch Mom rub his head. She said even kids knew how to stress out. You don't have to stress out, Kia. I'll keep you safe."
"From everyone but you," she sighed, tucking her face against his chest.
"From everyone but me," he agreed, his voice heavy despite his gentle tone.
She let a bittersweet smile form on her lips as his fingers stroked her neck. Kia knew she should be pulling away. Better to deal with the headache than to deal with Chase, in his bed, curled against him as the darkness wrapped around them, heavy with sensuality.
"Why did you hide for the past two years, Kia?" She felt his lips against her brow again. "Why didn't you let Rebecca Harding and her little friends take the fall as liars rather than putting it on your head and taking everything on your own shoulders?"
Why had she? She breathed out roughly, her fingers digging into the comforter covering her as she tried to hold on to her determination.
"I'm not going to let it go," he assured her. "Tell me why?"
"Because it was easier," she finally whispered. And it was only partially the truth. "Rebecca didn't start that grief, Chase. I did. I trusted the wrong person, and I married the wrong man. I needed time."
"Don't lie to me." The rough whisper was breathed against her cheek. "Right here, right now, Kia. Give me the truth."
"Because I knew I wouldn't be able to stay away from you, and I didn't want to humiliate myself further."
There. She had said it. She admitted to him what she had fought against admitting even to herself. She was licking her wounds; it was a partial truth. She was embarrassed. Who wouldn't have been? But she had also known she was weak. Drew had seen it. Even Rebecca had known of the fascination Kia had for Chase. And the thought of further rejection had kept her curled inside herself like a frightened child.
She had made the excuses to herself. Her confidence was low. She was afraid of trusting. When all was said and done, this was the reason why she had hid until she couldn't hide anymore.
Rejection she could take. Loving Chase had been something she didn't think she was strong enough to handle.
Silence filled the bedroom then. Chase pressed her closer to his chest, his fingertips stroking the back of her neck, easing the headache away and filling her with a lazy, frightening sensuality.
"Every woman has a weakness," she whispered against his chest. "You were my weakness, Chase. Even Drew knew I couldn't keep my eyes off you. The more our marriage deteriorated, the worse it became. I didn't want others seeing that and believing I had been unfaithful, or that you'd had any part in that break."
"Would you have stayed with him if he hadn't brought the third in that night?"
She flattened her hands against his chest, felt his heartbeat against her palms, slow and steady.
"I loved Drew when I married him. I loved the illusion he gave me of who and what he was. I don't want illusions anymore. But neither do I want a relationship that's cold and remote except in the bed."
"What do you want, Kia?"
She lifted her head and stared into the shadowed expanse of his expression. "I want something real. I want to laugh. I want to be able to cry when I need to. I want to dance, and I want to be free. And I want to be held."
His fingers continued to stroke, to massage her neck.
"It's hard to be free and to be held at the same time," he told her quietly.
/> "Is it, Chase?" She touched his jaw, simply because she couldn't help herself. "Isn't that what love truly is? Being free even as you're being held? Knowing you can reach for the stars, and someone's there to share it with you? Or to give you a boost if you need it? Someone to laugh with, love with, cry and argue with? Someone you know will be there when you're moody, when you're dark, or when you just need a hug." She smiled up at him, feeling it inside her, reaching out to him, knowing Chase was the man she wanted that with. "Isn't mat love?"
Chase felt the dreams that moved through her as though they were his own. It was so unfamiliar, the sensations so unique, that he wanted nothing more at that moment than to get out of the bed and leave the room. To escape the velvet bonds he could feel wrapping around him.
"You're free, Chase," she whispered, moving her hand back from his jaw and fixing on him with those gem-bright, dream-rich eyes. "Always free."
And she would always hold him. He saw that, too. Saw that Kia held things inside her, wrapped herself around the people she loved in such a subtle way that they never knew what she had done until it was too late. Until she owned a part of them.
"You're delirious," he replied, but his hand smoothed down along her side until he was cupping her hip, holding her to the thick, hard ridge of his erection.
"I need you." She whispered his words back to him, and Chase swore his heart was going to leap right out of his chest.
"You're hurt." He swallowed tightly. "When you're better. Ah fuck, Kia."
Slender, graceful fingers moved from his chest to the heavy weight of his erection. They curled around it, stroked, pumping his flesh with silken destruction.
"Not a good idea," he groaned. "Sanjer will kill me for this."
Her lips brushed his jaw, her tongue reaching out to stroke, to taste his flesh. Each touch was like a destructive whisper. Chase held her to him, let her touch, let her stroke, and he pushed back the hunger rising inside him like a beast he didn't know how to control.
He had tried, he told himself. He had tried to stay as far away from her as possible. He had tried to save them both.