"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.

"I can do it, Chase," she told him quietly, watching him with a wary light in her eyes.

"I can do it without hurting you."

He turned her, started at the bottom of the long, silky strands and began to work through the tangles the day had given her.

Not that there were many of them.

"I wasn't able to style it this morning," she sighed, as he felt her relax marginally.

Anger surged hot and deep inside him at the knowledge of how painful that cut must still be.

The doctor hadn't had to shave the area the attacker had sliced open. The wound was less than an inch long and had taken only a few stitches.

"I'll wash it for you when you bathe," he told her, his cock howling in agony now.

"You don't have to do that." Her protest was mild, her voice soft, relaxed.

"I want to do it."

And he did. He wanted to care for her. He needed to care for her. That hunger struck inside him with dizzying force. Even the women he had lived with before, the need to care for them hadn't gone this deep. Not so deep that the slightest knowledge of their pain cut into him.

As he stroked the bristles of the brush through her hair, his heart clenched and something melted inside him. He'd never given much thought to the idea of a wife, a family. But as he sat with Kia, that thought began to form within his mind.

Kia, soft and round with their child. Maybe a little girl who looked like her mother, with long, soft hair that needed to be untangled gently. Or maybe a son. And Kia would be there, holding all of them.

He worked the brush higher into her hair as her head moved, shifting and allowing her hair to flow around her as he brushed it.

He was harder than a rock, but his heart was melting in his chest. Who would have guessed something this simple would bring the knowledge it did.

The fact that Chase knew, clear to the depths of his spirit, that he had fallen in love with Kia.

Chapter 23

Kia thought that having Chase at the office with her would be confining. That his male presence, arrogance, and determination would begin to stifle her. It had in the past when she had Drew following her everywhere she went.

Instead, she had found out that he could be comforting. He knew how to be quiet, yet the heated looks, the reflection in his expression, had kept her primed for him. Unfortunately, there had been no time for anything more than that brief, hard kiss he had given her.

She had expected, once they returned to his home, that he would cash in on that kiss. But dinner arrived, and then so did Cameron.

And the party wasn't going to wait on her. A party she wished now that she could just skip. She wanted to roll around in Chase's big bed with him, wanted to feel him, touch him.

She had teased them both today, especially after the confrontation with Drew. Not that she thought Chase would actually kill Drew, but she knew that should it come to a fight, then Chase would likely break bones Drew didn't know could be broken.

As it turned out, her ex-husband wouldn't be back to her office. Her father had barred him from the main offices, and Drew had sent word his resignation would be forthcoming.

Rutherford's would lose a talented security and Systems analyst when that happened. Drew didn't just sell the products his talents protected, but he had devised the most exacting measures in making certain Rutherford's offices and warehouses were secure.

She shook her head as she carefully arranged her hair into a soft style that flowed around her face and shoulders rather than pinning it up. Her head was still too tender to pin it up.

She wore the violet and silver-threaded bra and matching thong. She had her stockings on, and her violet and silver dress hung on the door behind her as she checked her makeup carefully.

She smoothed a finger over the smoky shadow on her eyelid, adjusted the shadowing and turned back to check the look.

She didn't wear much makeup, but tonight she needed the added confidence. She had fought to push back the knowledge that someone out there wanted to hurt her. It wasn't easy, unless Chase was holding her.

She fiddled with a few strands of hair at the top of her head, arranging them over the stitches and making certain the wound didn't show.

Vanity. She almost chuckled at the thought before her gaze slid to a shadow of movement in the bedroom. Chase stepped to the doorway. His eyes held her. That look in them.

When he was hungry, his eyes became just a little darker, but still a pale green so light as to be icy. And he was hungry now. The color glittered in his dark expression.

Kia licked at her lips nervously before reaching for her robe.

"You don't need that." He slipped into the bathroom, staying her hand before she could reach the silky garment.

"Cameron's gone?" She breathed in roughly as his hands gripped her hips and pulled her back against him.

"The men of the club don't touch other women when they're in relationships," he told her.

Kia almost rolled her eyes. "That wasn't what I was referring to."

His gaze met hers in the bathroom mirror. "I want to bring Khalid back, or another if you prefer someone else."

Her heart rate spiked. "The sharing doesn't stop?" she whispered.

"Not unless you want it to." His lips smoothed over her shoulder.

She stared back at him, and she saw that hunger raging in his eyes, reaching out to her. Flashes of memory, in the back of Khalid's limo, in her bed, raged through her. Both of them touching her, taking her.

"What—what if Khalid finds his own woman?" she whispered.

His expression became darker, hungrier. "If I had my choice, it would never be the same man, Kia. Each third brings his own strengths to any encounter. A different type of pleasure."