Chapter 4
A week later, Kia stood with her parents, Timothy and Celia Rutherford.
Her father's company was one of the major benefactors of the charity function. Rutherford Logistic Solutions had joined Delacourte-Conovers, an electronics research and development firm, to throw a benefit party for several of the organizations they contributed heavily to.
Kia stood by the huge fireplace in the hotel ballroom, a smile on her face as she chatted with one of the organizers of the event. Her gaze swept the room and she wondered exactly how many of the men present were part of Chase's club.
Ian Sinclair, the owner of several properties in the greater Alexandria area, also owned the Sinclair Men's Club, but that club's reputation was above suspicion. There were several other smaller, less distinguished men's clubs in the area. She knew many men within Sinclair's club were also members of several other clubs, both business and private.
Figuring out which was a ménage club would be impossible. And parts of her didn't truly want to know.
Ian Sinclair and his wife, Courtney, were also friends with Lucian and Devril Conover. Lucian and Devril made no secret of the fact that they both claimed their former secretary as a lover-wife. Together.
There were other guests at this party, as well as every other party she attended through the year, who were rumored to play such games. The world Kia had been raised within was one of rumor, speculation, and schadenfreude, a deep sense of pleasure from the pain of others. It was a world she had never enjoyed.
Cole Andrews, vice president of Delacourte-Conovers, was in attendance with his young wife, Tessa, an elementary schoolteacher and daughter of the owner and founder of Delacourte.
Petite and stylish, Tessa stood at her husband's side, a smile much like Kia's tugging at her lips.
Yes, these functions were such an obvious display of wealth and complete boredom that there were times Kia wanted to hide in her apartment and never attend another.
"I could always slip away to the ladies' room and then out the back," she heard Kimberly Raddington, a red-haired security expert, mumble to her husband, Jared, as they moved behind her. "The limo would be close. You know it would be."
She almost smirked at the desperation in the other woman's voice. She knew Kimberly only in a distant fashion. She was more familiar with Jared Raddington because he had done some business with her father.
"Someone should warn Kimberly she could get scalped for deserting us,"
a voice behind her stated. If Kia wasn't mistaken, it was Ella Wyman, James Wyman's wife.
Now there was a pair. James Wyman was one of the names Drew had given her as a member of the club of "Trojans," as they called themselves. Ella was several years older than her husband, but James was besotted with her.
"I would have to murder her," Courtney Sinclair declared in a quiet hiss.
The group stood behind Kia now, and it was with a sense of sadness that she listened to their byplay. It was obvious there was true friendship among them. Women who knew each other well, who laughed and moaned together.
Or did they?
Kia smiled and returned greetings even as she wondered at that.
Once she had thought she had close friends. Other women she could exchange confidences with, who she could trust. And she had learned differently.
As she stood there, one of those friends moved by. Rebecca Harding, with her cool gray-blue eyes and short black hair. The daughter of a successful lobbyist. They had grown up together, gone to all the right schools together; they had been bridesmaids at each other's weddings.
Rebecca rarely looked her way now, and Kia was glad of it. Realizing how easily her friends had betrayed her had broken a part of her. It had left an empty ache where trust should have been.
"Women like Rebecca don't need to make excuses for their behavior; they're so above the rest of us mortals that mere rules do not apply."
Kia turned quickly to find herself staring into the somber gray eyes of Tessa Andrews. She had known Tessa before her marriage to Cole Andrews. She and Tessa had gone through school together as well and had been friends until Tessa graduated and dropped out of society for several years.
"Really?" Kia murmured politely.
"You know, Kia, many of us realize exactly what happened several years ago." Tessa moved in closer, her voice friendly, if tinged with wariness.
"And what exactly happened?" Kia asked her coolly. How many times had others attempted to find out the dirty details by making just such overtures?
Tess's gaze was compassionate, knowing. Kia ached as she turned away from the other woman. She didn't need friends any more than she needed a lover or a husband, she reminded herself.
Acquaintances, she had plenty of those. She had lunch once a week with a civic women's group and once a month she met with the women involved in her father's charities.
It was enough. She promised herself it was enough even though that vast loneliness she felt ached with the need to be eased.
"It's hard when friends betray you," Tessa murmured. "That doesn't mean others will."
Kia almost rolled her eyes.
"If you'll excuse me, Mrs. Andrews." She nodded politely to the other woman and her husband. "I see someone I need to speak to."
Actually, she didn't.
She moved away from the group, her head held high.
"How horrifying," Tessa whispered to her husband. "Two years and she still remains so isolated."
She felt Cole's arms come around her. She knew if she turned and looked into his wicked blue eyes she would see the love that had kept her warm for nearly two years now. Warm and loved.
"She nearly destroyed the club single-handedly," he whispered in her ear as he made the appearance of kissing it.
"Because she had lousy friends," Tessa grumbled. "Kia was always a kind person, Cole. I've known her forever and ever and she acts as though we're strangers."
The sadness in his wife's voice tugged at Cole. He'd give her anything he possessed. Had given it to her. His heart and his soul and all the pleasure he could imagine for her.
"Chase is interested in her." He let a smile tip his lips as she turned her head to him, surprise rounding her eyes.
"Really?"
"Very really." He chuckled. "Stop worrying about her, Tess. I have a feeling he'll end up taking very good care of her."
Cole knew Chase had called together the judiciary committee within the club and protested Drew Stanton's harassment of his ex-wife. Chase had made Kia a promise two years ago, one the committee had approved one hundred percent.
In return, Kia had smoothed over the gossip, taken the blame for the rumors of the club on her own fragile shoulders, and helped Chase make certain the club wasn't revealed any more than it had been. And the promise had been that Drew Stanton would never be allowed to be close to his ex-wife without her permission nor would he harass her mentally ever again.
"Dance with me, vixen." He pulled Tessa to the dance floor as her gaze returned to Kia.
Kia hadn't needed to speak to anyone. She moved slowly through the crowd, a brilliant, vibrant gem amid the black and winter white in her sapphire blue cashmere gown.
As Cole held his wife in his arms, his hands smoothing down the back of her emerald silk evening gown, his gaze swept the room and he hid a smile. She was a beautiful woman. Quiet. Sometimes almost lost even amid the crowd.
There was Chase Falladay with his brother, Cameron, and Cameron's fiancée, Jaci. And Chase was watching Kia. His eyes latched onto her like a dog latched on to a bone. It was always amusing to watch another club member fall. Chase especially, because the other man had been smug, so amused when Tessa led him through the merriest chase of his life.
"Chase is a goner," he promised his wife.
"Rather like you?" She kissed his chin. A smile curved her lips as he stared into her pretty gray eyes and felt that familiar hunger sweeping through him.
"Maybe close." He grinned.
Chase watched Kia. That dress was killing him. The cashmere draped down her shoulders, and the bodice was snug, barely hinting at the valley of her breasts, though it cupped and caressed the mounds like a lover's hands. It snugged down her body to her hips, then flared over her legs, and fell to the floor in a swath of graceful, soft fabric.
She had walked away from conversation with Tessa Andrews. Few people walked away from Tessa. She was warmhearted, kind, and she drew people to her.
Kia's expression bit at his heart as she did it. Walked away, hunger reflecting in her brilliant blue eyes as she did so. She'd wanted to stay. She had wanted to laugh and joke as the women behind her did, and she had wanted to join in with them. Instead, she had forced herself to walk away.
Damn her. The more he checked into the life she had lived in the past two years, the more furious he became. He should have kept a closer watch on her, should have made certain she was doing okay.
What had made him imagine she would be smart enough to do as he told her to? To come to him if Drew approached her again.
She hadn't. Unofficial reports stated that in the past year Drew had begun an intense campaign to force her back into the marriage.
The chances of his succeeding might appear slim, but Chase was betting Drew knew already what Chase was just learning. Kia had completely isolated herself. She had no friends, no lovers. She had acquaintances, but no one she shared confidences with.
That loneliness was destructive. Chase knew it was. He had been there, long ago and far away, and he knew it didn't work.
As he watched, he ground his teeth in anger. Daniel Conover, cousin to Lucian and Devril Conover, members of the club and co-lovers to that little spitfire Tally Rafferty, had stopped her.
Daniel's blond good looks, his suave and practiced flirtiness always charmed women.
"Daniel didn't waste much time, did he?" Khalid remarked beside Chase.
The bastard was laughing at him. Chase should have known better than to start socializing with the damned mocking, self-proclaimed playboy. Khalid prided himself on driving his father insane by convincing the world at large that he was a lazy, shiftless spoiled rich boy on the make. He prided himself on driving his friends crazy, too.
"Daniel doesn't have a chance," Chase growled.
To which Khalid gave a noncommittal little hum.
"What the hell does that mean?" He frowned at the other man.
"What does what mean?" Khalid was openly laughing now.
"That sound," Chase said.
"It merely means whatever you think." Khalid shrugged. "But Daniel is rather popular with the women. And as we've found out, Kia has become rather alone. Women should never be alone in such ways, Chase. It's a crime against nature, against their very instincts."
"Don't start lecturing me on women, Khalid," he retorted.
"And so there goes my fun for the night." Khalid chuckled. "I wonder if Ian would allow me to dance with Courtney. I wouldn't have to worry about her groping me in public as that shameless little Rebecca Harding did."
There was an edge of censure in Khalid's voice that Chase rarely heard.
He would have commented on it, but Daniel chose that moment to actually touch Kia. He reached out and ran the backs of his fingers down her arm. Chase had had enough.
He wondered if he really growled.
"Should I have the limo brought around?" Khalid asked him, more than just amused now.
Chase didn't bother answering him. Khalid would have his driver on call and the limo would be at the door in seconds if they needed it.
He made his way through the crowd, nodding as guests called to him, ignoring questions, his eyes narrowed, his entire focus on Kia.
She was shaking her head as Daniel tipped his blond head to the side to ask her something. She shook it again as Chase moved in behind her.
"Chase." Daniel smiled as Kia turned quickly, her hands bracing against Chase's chest as she realized how close they were.
The moment she touched him, she felt something shift inside her.
Languorous weakness invaded her body, her nipples peaked, the flesh between her thighs grew swollen, sensitive. Wet. Just that fast.
As though she had been waiting for his hands to cup her arms, his light green eyes to meet hers, his expression to shift with the memory of one stolen night they had shared.
"Chase." His name slipped from her lips on a sigh, as though of relief.
"You promised me a dance, Kia," he told her, his voice lowered, smooth, like the finest brandy on the coldest night, and that was how it filled her.
"I did, didn't I?" She was mesmerized by his eyes, by his lips.
The world seemed to stop, there and then. The music whispered in the distance, voices became muted, unimportant, as they ignored Daniel and he drew her to the dance floor and pulled her into his arms.
Her head went against his shoulder, her arms around his neck as his arms encircled her, and he began to lead her around the floor.
She was lost. Nothing else mattered but the dance and the man, the arms holding her, and the feel of him against her.
"You look like a jewel in that dress," he whispered, bending his head to her, as though they were the only ones who existed at that moment.
"I almost didn't wear it," she admitted, too lost to sensation to play the flirty game or the cool, bored socialite.
"Why?" His lips brushed her ear.
"I don't like standing out."
"You look beautiful. Like a sapphire in the snow. I saw you the moment I entered the room."
And she had wanted him to see her, she realized. The moment she saw the dress the other day, she had known it would draw attention, and a part of her had wondered if it would draw Chase's attention.
The stroke of his eyes was better than no stroke at all. And how she had missed the stroke of his hands.
One stolen night hadn't been enough. She had lain alone the rest of the week, aching, dreaming, awakening and whimpering when he wasn't there on her lonely couch beside her.
"I've decided blue is my favorite color," he whispered, nipping her ear with a subtle little bite. "But I liked white, too. Tell me, baby, do your pretty panties and bra match that dress?"
She almost lost her breath. Her head lifted as she looked up at him, meeting his eyes, holding his gaze and the heat and hardness of his body.
"Yes." She licked her dry lips, arousal pouring through her now.
"And the stockings?" He pressed her head back to his chest, whispering the words against her hair.
"Lighter."
"Silk?"
"Yes."
"I'm going to unwrap you like a present tonight," he told her, his voice roughening. "Khalid has a new oil he swears was made for you. Would you like us to use it?"
He wanted to use it. She could hear it in his voice.
"Yes." She wasn't capable of more than that. The words came out as a whimper, a sighing little cry of need.
The need was like a fever inside her. It had built over the days, simmering and then flaming, and now it was sweeping through her body like a wildfire.
"Have you been wet for me, Kia?" he asked her then. "Have you touched yourself and imagined me?"
Her eyes were closed, the memory of trying to find release as she thought of him burning through her.
"I always think of you then." She swallowed tightly. "I always have."
"Always?"
"Longer than I should have," she admitted.
He had fascinated her, even before her marriage. Turned her head, made her wonder at the wicked sensuality she had caught in his expression sometimes.
"I think of you." His lips caressed her temple. "Jacking off isn't nearly as pleasurable as f*cking you, Kia. Filling you and hearing you scream and beg for more."
She could barely breathe. The erotic words were tearing through her brain, naughty, explicit, making her dampen her panties with the thought of the things he had done to her in Khalid's limo.
"I dream of you," she admitted, wondering where she had gained the strength or the breath to force herself to speak. "Every night I've dreamed of you, Chase."
"What did I do to you?" His hands tightened on her hips.
"You took me in the snow," she whispered. "The cold around us, and you were hot within me. And I ached so desperately, Chase. I needed you to take me hard, and you stayed still. You watched me beg, yet you didn't move."
His hard body tensed further. "I wouldn't do that to you, Kia. When I get inside that hot p-ssy, staying still isn't an option," he growled.
She couldn't breathe. She was on the verge of melting at his feet, of dying in his arms. She could feel the need intensifying within her. Her * was a painful engorged knot of nerve endings, the rasp of it against her lacy panties making her insane as he forced her to step, to move, to dance against him.
"This dress is going to come off you," he told her. "Slowly. And before we ever take you. we'll have you screaming for it."
"As long as you take me." Filled her, chased away the cold that had only grown in the past week.
She was tempting her own destruction, and she knew it. If she thought the loneliness had been bad before, it had only grown after. How much worse would it be when he left her again?
"Over and over," he promised her. "Will you leave with me, Kia? Khalid's limo is waiting. We can go to your apartment and spend the night giving you everything you've dreamed of."
Except in her dreams, Khalid hadn't been there. She pushed it away.
There was no fear in Khalid being there, no shame. Chase would be there, and the pleasure they would give her would add to the memories she could hold to herself later.
She wasn't fooling herself. She was rather pathetic. Even before she married Drew, Chase Falladay had been her fantasy. Even before she knew he shared his women, she had known she would do anything to spend a night in his arms.
After her marriage she had pushed those fantasies aside until he came to her with a request and a promise.
She lifted her head from his shoulder and stared back at him. He didn't raise his head. Their lips were close, the slightest movement on her part and they would connect, and there, in front of all the brightly clothed guests at this outrageous ball, she knew, they'd attempt to devour each other.
"I'd leave with you in a heartbeat."
So easy. She was being too easy perhaps. Hadn't her mother always warned her that a man didn't want to keep what he didn't have to work for?
She didn't care. Keeping him was only the most hidden fantasy anyway.
It wasn't even a hope, the idea of it was so far-fetched.
He stopped, pulled back, and took her hand. "Are you ready to go?"
She simply nodded and let him draw her through the crowd. She was aware of others watching. Of course, they would know what was going on, knew she would end up spending the night with Chase. The erotic pleasures he would give her they couldn't imagine, though.
Even she couldn't have imagined the pleasure before she experienced it.
The feel of both Chase and Khalid touching her. Of having the courage, the strength, to reach out and take both men, even as she knew she risked the most painful of broken hearts.
Falling in love with Chase would be the height of idiocy. It would be the supreme mistake of her life.
As he led her from the ballroom and accepted his coat and her cloak, Kia knew it was a mistake she was risking with her every breath.
"You look like a princess." He tucked her hair beneath the silken hood of the matching cape and closed the heavy clasp between her breasts.
He made her feel like a princess. A very naughty, very brave princess, and he was the knight challenging her to step from her throne and be naughtier.
She did so willingly.
Her hand settled in the crook of his arm as he moved through the hotel lobby and into the frigid air outside.
Khalid's limo awaited, a rather tame one compared to the Hummer of the previous week. She slid into the luxurious interior and didn't protest as Khalid lifted her into his arms and stretched her across his lap.
The door closed and Chase was pushing the skirt of her dress above her thighs, spreading them as Khalid's fingers released her cloak and his lips covered hers.
Magic surrounded her. Magic and pleasure, Stardust and star-bursts as the pleasure began.
And she reminded herself, it was just for the pleasure. Not because she ached for one man. Dreamed of one man. And when she came, it would be his name on her lips.
And there were others who saw her surrender. Eyes that watched from a hidden corner of the lobby, filled with malice and rage as the door to the limo closed on the sight of Khalid lifting her to him.
Drew felt the anger pouring through him, clenching his teeth and his fists at the knowledge that Kia was giving to those two bastards what she had denied him.
The f*cking whore. Whore. She was tramping herself with that half-breed Middle Eastern whoreson and that son of a bitch who had dared to warn him away from Kia.
Kia was his wife. She had come to his bed a virgin, and he would keep her. One way or the other. And he had plans to make damned certain he got his way.