by Lora Leigh
"You don't have the right to throw me out, Falladay," he sneered, before turning back to Kia.
"They accused me of attacking you. How the hell do you know you weren't attacked because of him?" His finger stabbed in Chase's direction. "The son of a bitch manages to piss off everyone he comes in contact with. And it's not as though it's a secret you're fucking him and Khalid both.
That Middle Eastern bastard is a walking target himself. You don't know what he's capable of, Kia. I wouldn't doubt if he arranged it."
Chase moved. He jerked his arm from Kia's hold and jumped for the bastard. And would have had him if she wasn't in front of him just as quickly, her hands pressed to his chest.
"Get out of here, Drew," she snapped. "Dammit, Chase, stand back. This has gone far enough."
"Far enough is when he thinks he has the right to talk to you like that," Chase said coldly. "Get out of my way, Kia." His hands were on her arms, firm, pushing her away.
"Damn you, you and that bastard Khalid are the reason I was dragged into interrogation," Drew snapped furiously. "Do you think I'm running from you, Falladay? Fuck you, we can finish this here."
Chase grinned. He stared down at Kia, saw her pale face, the fear that flashed in her eyes, and bit off a curse. Dammit, she would never let him slug that pitiful little bastard while she was standing here.
"Dammit, Drew, you've lost your mind." Kia turned, bracing her back against Chase as she faced her ex-husband.
"Have you lost yours?" Drew accused, his fists doubled up at the seams of his immaculate gray slacks, and sneered at them. "I'd never hurt you, Kia. You know that. I'd do anything to protect you. Just look what leaving me got you. If you had just stayed with me, just stayed faithful, none of this would have happened."
"If she had just let you rape her?" Chase growled as Liza closed the door behind her, evidently deciding it was best to leave them alone in this fight. Chase agreed with her.
"Chase, that's enough," Kia argued as she pressed her back more firmly against him.
His arm moved around her, holding her to him, daring Drew to make a comment.
Drew's face drew into lines of shock. "She was my wife, Falladay. It wouldn't have been rape."
Chase saw red.
"Chase, stop!" Kia yelled out the order as he tried to push past her.
The thing about pushing past Kia was that it was damned hard when she was wrapping herself around him like a vine and digging those sharp heels into the carpet. If he pushed too hard, there was no way he would get past without hurting her.
"Stanton, I'm going to kill you." Chase said it coldly as the door opened and Timothy Rutherford stood in the doorway, his jowls creased with rage.
"What the hell is going on here?" Timothy boomed.
"You're about to lose a security and sales associate," Chase drawled menacingly. "As soon as your daughter stops imitating a vine."
Timothy took in the situation quickly. Liza's call had been frantic, her voice quavering as she reported Chase's drawing his weapon on Drew. Rushing to the office, Timothy had expected to see blood until he saw his daughter holding on to Chase with a force he hadn't known she had.
"Stanton, my office," Timothy ordered him.
"Like hell," Drew replied. "Do you know what they accused me of, Rutherford?"
"I'm well aware of it," Timothy snapped.
He didn't like Stanton. He had never forgotten the bruise on his daughter's face or the fear in her eyes, compliments of this little bastard. He'd kept him on because of Kia's furious protests.
Because she had asked it of him, demanded it. But the time for that was coming to an end as he had prayed it would.
"My office. Now," Timothy told him. "Or you can turn in your resignation."
Drew's mouth worked furiously. A red flush filled his face as Chase gave him a tight-lipped, cold smile. Falladay was going to rub it in, of course, not that Timothy blamed him, but it wasn't going to make settling Drew down any easier.
"Now, Stanton," Timothy repeated, stepping back from the door. "You know the alternative."
Oh, it was finally time. Time to get rid of the bastard who had hurt his daughter.
"Screw you!" Drew glared back at him. "You and this fucking job."
He stalked from the office, rage tightening his shoulders as he stomped from the outer office and slammed the door closed there.
Timothy breathed in heavily.
"You have a handle on this one?" he asked his daughter, almost grinning at Chase's scowl.
"For now," she said. And she did, indeed. Her high heels were digging into the carpet, one arm wrapped around Chase's neck, the other around his waist.
Timothy nodded and left the office.
Kia almost breathed out a sigh of relief before Chase lifted her bodily, set her aside, and stalked to the door, where he twisted the lock viciously.
She shouldn't have followed him. She should have moved to her desk rather than fearing he was going after Drew, because before she knew it, he had her against the door, his body pressing into hers, one hand buried in her hair, the other pressed against the door behind her.
"I'm going to kill that little prick," he said softly, dangerously. "The first chance I get."
Kia forced back her trepidation, knowing that if she didn't distract that fury, then Drew just might end up dead.
"You know, Chase, for a man who stated he doesn't want a relationship, you're becoming rather high maintenance as far as relationship matters are concerned. Especially other men. You better watch it, or before you know it, you'll be putting my name on that little black mailbox outside your apartment."
His eyes narrowed. Icy green flickered over her face, her breasts as they rose and fell due to the panic rising inside her.
He didn't even flinch at her accusation.
"You'd better be very very careful, Kia, or I'm going to have you bent over that desk with my dick buried so deep inside you that you're not going to remember how to access that smart mouth of yours," he warned her with chilling politeness, with arousing arrogance. "And if I ever find out Drew was the one who attacked you, then when they find his body, there won't be enough left to identify him."
She didn't have time to argue, didn't have a chance to berate him.
His lips slammed over hers, his tongue parting them, pushing inside as she gasped and felt the flames beginning to race through her, over her, between them and around them.
A second later he pushed away from her and stalked back to his chair. "Leave the door locked.
I'll answer it if anyone needs to come in."
She didn't argue.
She pressed her fingers to her sensitive lips before moving slowly back to her desk, her eyes on
his, aware of how he watched her, the promise in his gaze.
Something darker, more forbidden, had risen inside him. Something she wondered if she was really equipped to handle, though she knew handling it was something she would give her all to
.
Chase escorted Kia into his apartment that evening, his hand riding low on her back, feeling her hips shift and move with sensual precision beneath his touch.
He loved touching her as she moved, feeling the energy she kept contained inside her, imagining how it could come out later.
And he had learned today, Kia could be a little tease. Her and those damned stockings, she had flashed them at him all day—in between the glares she shot him over his reaction to Drew.
He didn't like Drew, Chase thought. He never had cared much for the other man, but he had to admit, at the moment, there was a high chance he would end up seeing him dead. Because, God knows, controlling himself if he learned Drew had laid another hand on her would be impossible.
Chase believed in miracles. Every time he touched Kia he was reminded of that. But there was no miracle strong enough to save Drew Stanton if he was the reason Kia carried those stitches in her head.
"I have a party to attend tonight," she sighed, as she checked the PDA she carried in her purse.
"It's a charity event I helped Dad put together."
Chase nodded. He was aware of the party. He'd paid a hefty price for his ticket. A well-known band had donated its services, and many of the ticket holders were attending only for the pleasure of hearing the band.
"Tomorrow, I have several meetings after lunch. I may wait till later to go in to the office. Give Dad a chance to get the rest of his files together on the projects I want to discuss."
She was touching the pad of the PDA with a slender stylus. The fuller portion of material twitched beneath her butt as she shifted and stepped out of the high heels she wore.
A second later she stored the PDA, picked up her shoes, and moved through the apartment.
Chase watched as she headed for the bedroom, a frown creasing his brows.
"Are you hungry?" he asked before she made it halfway through the dining alcove.
She paused and turned back to him. "Would you like to order out or get something on the way to the party?"
"How often do you eat anyway?" He propped his hands on his hips and stared at her through narrowed eyes.
It was either do something about dinner or fuck her. And if he fucked her, he might not let her out of the apartment.
"I eat often enough." A little smile tipped her lips. "I can outeat a linebacker if you let me get hungry, but Dad had a snack for me in the office while I was there for our meeting."
His frown deepened. He'd left her in the meeting with her father and a security guard while he met with Cameron in the lobby of the apartment.
"What kind of snack?"
He watched her brow arch, her lips twitch. "It wasn't much, I promise."
"What kind of snack, Kia?" he demanded.
The amusement in her face shifted her expression, made it more sensual, made playing with her an erotic adventure.
"Egg rolls from Chang's. I only ate two."
Chang's egg rolls were the best in the state, hell, the nation. Chase grunted at that.
"I'll order in," he told her. "I'm not leaving for that party without some real food."
"There will be food at the party," she pointed out.
"Like I said, real food."
A light, soft laugh whispered from her lips before she turned and moved back to the bedroom, that damned skirt twitching beneath her ass like a temptation to touch.
That should be outlawed. Made illegal on a global scale because the thought of food wasn't uppermost in his mind. Burrowing beneath that skirt was uppermost in his mind.
Shaking his head, he turned and pulled his cell phone from its holster. He called in some food, then called the investigator assigned to follow them when they left the office.
"I think I was made, Mr. Falladay," the investigator said to him in disgust. "I had my eye on a black Bentley. I was just waiting to get a bead on the license plate when it suddenly pulled out into traffic just before you left the building. If someone hadn't been watching, he would have caused a nice little wreck. But he got away clean. I couldn't get the plate."
Chase was not pleased. "There are security monitors at the front of Rutherford's that sweep the street, right?"
"Yes, sir," the investigator agreed. "I was counting on that myself, but he was either real damned lucky or he knew what he was doing because when he pulled out those monitors were sweeping over him and moving in other directions."
Luck wasn't something Chase believed in.
"I pulled into the underground parking when I followed you back, though." The investigator was still talking. "I left the car there and I'm watching from a shelter across the street. If it comes back around, I'll get an ID."
Chase wasn't betting on it returning. Whoever was tracking Kia knew what he was doing, but the state of her apartment suggested someone reaching the limit of his control. He would strike soon, and when he did, Chase wanted to make certain he was prepared.
He disconnected the call and hit Khalid's number.
"Yes, Chase?" Khalid answered the phone on the first ring.
"The Rutherford-Edgewood ball tonight. Will you be there?"
Khalid sighed. "Unfortunately, it became a requirement once Courtney married Ian. She's a great admirer of Jillian Edgewood. She would never forgive me if I didn't attend."
Courtney ran all their lives to a certain extent. She definitely had a habit of getting her way.
"I want to put a net around Kia there." He kept his voice low. "Whoever this is, they'll escalate fast. We'll need to be on our toes."
"Who else have you contacted?" Khalid asked.
"I've pulled in Daniel Conover as well as the two available investigators we have from the club.
Cameron will help; the ladies will watch. If we keep her under wraps, keep her stalker from getting to her, then he'll show his hand. That's all we need, just a second to identify him."
"It takes much more than identification to kill a man, Chase," Khalid pointed out mildly.
"But all it takes is knowledge to make him wish he were dead," Chase snapped.
At that, Khalid chuckled. "I'll be there. We'll be watching Drew closely. There is little doubt in my mind that he is associated with this. And, as you say, you can make him wish he were dead."
There was a thread of anger in Khalid's tone that had Chase pushing back a suspicion that had been hounding him since that first night he had shared Kia with the other man.
Shaking his head, Chase disconnected the call before shrugging off his jacket and the shoulder harness that held his weapon.
Tonight, weapons would have to be pared down. He was one of the few given permission to carry one inside the hotel and the ballroom. With several state senators, mega-stars, and lawmakers in attendance, bodyguards would be a requirement. Thankfully, Ian had managed to push Chase's permit to carry during that event through quickly.
And Khalid's bodyguard would
be there as well, armed.
The thought of Khalid had Chase massaging the muscles of his neck as that dark, wicked need began to rise inside him. He knew what he needed. He knew as the emotions intensified inside him for Kia that this would happen. That just the two of them wouldn't be enough any longer.
Son of a bitch. His fists clenched. He couldn't get past it; hell, he didn't want to get past it. He wanted to see her, watch her take all the pleasure she could possibly take at one time, and to know he had given her the freedom to have it.
Sometimes he wondered if his enjoyment with a third would ever fully go away, and there were times he knew he didn't want it to. He enjoyed it. Like he enjoyed kissing her, tasting her, throwing her into climax with his lips and tongue. It was a desire he craved. To watch her, to see her pleasure, to aid in it, and yet to keep his head clear enough to watch, to know how each touch affected her, how each touch pleasured her.
He wanted more of it. Not all the time, he was learning. And he had a feeling as he spent time with her, then it would ease until the periods between the need would be longer. But he couldn't imagine never seeing her pleasured again. Never seeing another man fuck her, yet knowing she belonged to him, her eyes on his, trusting him, taking the pleasure he was giving her.
But if having it meant not having Kia? Hell, he'd do without it. It was only a part of what he needed from her. Relationships meant compromise, he knew. He would compromise. If he had to.
"What did you order for dinner?" Kia was moving through the apartment, a brush in one hand, dressed in a soft cotton lounging set.
Those lounging sets were created to drive men insane, he decided. The loose, soft gray pants and matching top.
"Greasy cheeseburgers," he told her. "They'll be here soon."
"I should have guessed." She sat down on the couch and began to brush her hair slowly, working around the cut in her head as she tugged at the shoulder-length strands and winced painfully.
"Come here." He sat down beside her and took the brush.