Only Pleasure

3

It was three in the morning and the snow was piling high before the limo pulled to a stop at the covered entrance to her apartment building.

The chauffeur opened the door smoothly and Chase stepped out before he turned to lift Kia from the vehicle. She gripped his shoulders as his hands spanned her waist, lifted her, then set her on the damp sidewalk beneath the marquee.

Snow fell around them in thick, fat, lazy flakes. The wind had picked up a bit, blowing around her as she stared up at him, wrapped warmly with his overcoat over her dress. Khalid wouldn’t let her leave the limo without it.

“I’ll take you up to your apartment.” His arm went around her back as they moved to the doors.

“Good morning, Ms. Rutherford.” The doorman nodded politely as he opened the heavy glass doors to allow them in and nodded to Chase.

“Good morning, Kenny.” She smiled.

It was close enough to morning. Like a fantasy, dawn was coming and when its fragile light began to spill over the city, this night would be nothing but a dream.

Chase escorted her through the wide lobby to the bank of elevators at the far side. Her apartment, more a penthouse suite, was on the twenty-fifth floor, dark and cold, and lonely.

Chase kept his arm around her, kept her close to his side as the elevator made its way too quickly to her floor and the doors slid open smoothly. Kia opened the tiny purse she carried, extracted the key, and found herself handing it to him.

There was such arrogance in the way he had held out his hand for the key—command and dominance. Chase was a man used to doing certain things, to controlling too much around him.

Kia pressed the security code by the door, and when he opened it, the lights were already on low throughout the apartment. She hated walking into the dark.

They stepped inside, Chase’s narrowed gaze raking over the small foyer and luxurious living room that opened out onto a balcony overlooking one of the larger parks.

“I’ve been looking for another place,” she said, feeling his gaze on her.

“What’s wrong with this?”

The apartment was too large for one person. She’d known this for years, but had held on to it anyway. It had been awarded to her in the divorce agreement. With the bank of windows that looked out on the park, the large rooms, and the spacious layout, the penthouse would be easy to resell.

She turned to him, staring up at him. “I could fix some coffee. There’s wine.”

He could stay the night. He could curl in that large lonely bed with her that she never slept in and hold the cold at bay.

His expression was brooding as he stared down at her, and she knew the answer that was coming.

“But I’m certain you need to get home.” She moved away from him, allowed the warmth of his coat to fall from her shoulders and handed it back to him. Reluctantly.

He took the coat slowly, glanced at it, then with his free hand touched her cheek.

“Are you going to be okay?” he asked.

No, she wasn’t. She was going to curl up on the couch, and she was going to try to remember the comfort of his arms holding her, perhaps try to convince herself he was still there with her.

“I’m fine.” She smiled back at him, aching inside, wondering why it was so hard not to beg him to stay.

He nodded slowly, his fingertips sliding over her cheek before his hand dropped, taking the warmth with him.

“You’re an incredible woman, Kia Rutherford,” he told her.

“Not hardly,” she whispered as he left the apartment, closing the door behind him.

She stared around the open, too large rooms before walking to the glass doors that led to the balcony. Opening them, she stepped out, shivering at the chill in the air, watching as the snowflakes created a curtain of white before her.

“Not hardly, Chase,” she whispered into the night. “Unless we count incredibly stupid.”

She sighed as she wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed at them, unwilling to step back inside just yet. Here she felt cocooned in the icy wind and the snow falling and she wondered if she could freeze out the suddenly bleak darkness surrounding her.

She had thought one night with Chase would ease the loneliness. She hadn’t expected it to only make it worse.

Turning, she reentered the apartment, closing the doors behind her as she reached back to slide the zipper of the dress below her hips.

The phone rang on the table in the foyer. Picking up the cordless headset she stared at the number displayed and shook her head. Drew’s cell phone. She had no desire to talk to him tonight. Or this morning. Why destroy the memories she wanted to wrap around her by allowing that intrusion? She placed the phone back in the cradle and moved into the bedroom.

Stepping out of the gown she laid it over the bottom of the bed and slid her shoes from her feet. She rolled the silk stockings from her legs as the phone continued to ring, and after tossing them to the bed with the dress she took off her bra.

She had forgotten her panties. She tried to smile at the thought, but a tear whispered down her cheek instead.

Unpinning her hair, she dropped the diamond-tipped pins to her dressing table and moved to the bathroom. Adjusting the water in the large Jacuzzi garden tub, she waited for it to fill the bottom as she stared into the steamy heat.

The night had ended too soon.

Chase settled himself back into Khalid’s limo as his friend gave the chauffeur the order to drive to the building Chase and Cameron had made their home. The snow was falling harder now, blowing colder, and the chill seemed to have followed him into the vehicle.

“She’s a beautiful woman,” Khalid murmured. “Gracious and proud. There are not many of those left, my friend.”

Chase propped his arm on the rolled leather edge of the bar’s counter that stretched behind the driver’s seat and stared back at the other man broodingly.

Khalid was nursing a drink, slouched back against the other, shorter seat, his gaze still heavy-lidded with a surfeit of sexual satisfaction.

Six hours. They had driven around in the snow for six fucking hours.

“The chauffeur needs to stop for petrol before we continue into Squire Point,” Khalid told him. “We’re running on fumes.”

Chase nodded. “I can get a cab.”

“Let the old man pay for the gas,” Khalid said, waving the offer away. “It’s the least he can do for allowing his father to steal me those many years ago.” His lips turned up in a semblance of mockery. “There isn’t enough petrol in the world to make up for that bastard’s crimes, I believe. But we weren’t discussing petrol or myself. We were discussing Ms. Rutherford.”

He hadn’t known she had taken her maiden name back. Though, to think of it, she hadn’t used her married name a lot after she married Drew Stanton anyway.

“Her father has shown great promise in his business efforts of late,” Khalid stated. “I offered him several contracts that I knew Father was considering here in the States once I determined his loyalty to his daughter. His logistics company is in great demand it seems.”

Chase watched him silently, suspiciously. Khalid was a connoisseur of women, but he was in no way benevolent. So why the hell had he given Rutherford contracts over the logistics company he normally used?

“Stanton had a treasure, and hadn’t the sense to realize it,” Khalid said reflectively.

“Drew’s still harassing her.” Chase sighed. “I’m going to have to deal with him.”

Khalid shook his head. “Allow the judiciary committee within the club to deal with him, Chase. They took care of the matter the first time. Establish the problem and then should further, advanced actions be needed later, you have just cause on your side.”

Chase stared back at him mockingly. “It was one night, Khalid. I’m not establishing a relationship with Kia Rutherford.”

Women were to be pleasured, to be enjoyed. But he had learned years ago that he wasn’t the relationship type.

A grin curled Khalid’s lips. “You fool yourself, my friend. She’s haunted you for two years. The one night of the pleasure she gave will never be enough for you.”

Chase’s eyes narrowed. “But it was enough for you?”

Khalid chuckled. “My heart has already been won. You have no fears that I would poach within emotions that are yours alone.”

Chase grimaced. “That wasn’t my point.”

“Ah, but yes, this was your point.” Khalid leaned forward as the limo pulled out of the gas station and continued toward Squire Point. “Should you require me as a third, I am available to you, anytime. But I fear your Ms. Rutherford sees me as no more than a requirement to be with you. She will tolerate any third you choose. Her pleasure will be your own, and she will gladly accept her due. But unlike some women, Chase, this one requires no third. You alone would bring her to the same heights of pleasure, if not greater levels of it, than any additional male would allow.”

And that was dangerous. Chase had no desire to hurt her, to break the heart that had already been ravaged by her ex-husband.

“It was one night,” he stated, though he heard the lack of determination in his voice.

“Inform the judiciary committee that Drew Stanton is no longer leaving his little ex-wife in peace. This was the agreement you made with her. You would protect her. Yes?”

Chase stared back at him.

“You made the promise, and she went out of her way to ensure the secrecy of who and what we are within the club Ian so graciously provides.”

“I can take care of Drew.”

“Use the committee, Chase.” Khalid frowned. “Because, mark my words, once Stanton learns Kia spent the night in this limo—and he will learn this—then he will only harass her further. The judiciary committee can restrain him, punish him, and your Ms. Rutherford will be protected. Otherwise she becomes a casualty, and you know this as well as I.”

Chase breathed out heavily. Drew wasn’t letting Kia go, and that wasn’t an option. The judiciary committee had taken care of him the first time, so perhaps Khalid was right. If the club protected Kia, then he wouldn’t have to worry about her. He wouldn’t have to watch her himself. Or be tempted to another night of pleasure that would only make him weaker where that lost, lonely smile of hers was concerned.

“It is too bad you were so eager to return to your home,” Khalid remarked then.

“Why’s that?”

Khalid glanced out the windows at the thick snow.

“Storms such as this, women grow cold even within their empty beds. They are creatures of warmth, but they need warmth to hold that part of themselves intact. A woman such as her, a storm such as this.” He waved his hand toward the snow. “She will be cold. That is a great shame, I believe.”

“So go keep her warm,” Chase almost snapped, knowing that if Khalid even tried, he might have to confront a club member for the first time.

Khalid snorted. “And listen to my girls weep and cry that they were left alone for the weekend? Such punishment is not due me.”

His girls. The harem his father had sent him.

“Those kids are going to be the death of you, Khalid.”

Khalid shook his head. “I promised them Christmas shopping this weekend.” He almost shuddered. “Six women under twenty, Chase. You should join us. Perhaps I will require you as my third this weekend.”

Chase stared back at him. Khalid didn’t have a sexual relationship with the girls his father had sent him for his harem. They were like cherished siblings that Khalid spoiled unmercifully. But a shopping trip with those hellions?

“Don’t make me kill you, Khalid,” he suggested with a hint of fear. Because Khalid wasn’t above using blackmail, bribes, or threats when it came to procuring male company during those shopping trips.

Khalid grinned. “You will contact the judiciary committee then?” he asked as the limo pulled into the basement parking lot of the building where Chase had a large upstairs apartment.

“Yeah. First thing.” Chase nodded. Anything to get out of that shopping trip. Anything to protect Kia.

Khalid chuckled as the chauffeur opened the door and Chase bounded out of the limo. Once the door closed and the chauffeur was pulling away, Khalid slid open the partition between the driver and passenger areas.

“Was the fuel bill sufficient to raise father’s eyebrows, do you think?” he asked Abdul with a hint of amusement.

Abdul’s smile flashed in the rearview mirror. “Not yet, Mr. Khalid.”

Abdul always smiled.

“Hmm. Perhaps our next trip then.”

Abdul laughed at the remark. Khalid headed through the snow toward the estate his father had deeded to him the year before.

The old bastard was desperate to get in Khalid’s good graces for some reason that Khalid had yet to understand.

The girls who had arrived two years before still had the power to enrage Khalid. They had all been under eighteen, terrified, bought from their families and sent to a foreign land and a man who refused to do what they were taught was his duty. Take them to his bed.

He ground his teeth at the thought.

They were young women now, adjusting to their studies, their lives. Soon, perhaps, he could find them husbands. That was his duty, as though they were his children. And in many ways, this was how the relationship between them had evolved.

It wasn’t his girls who concerned him now, though. It was his friend, Chase. The past months had been a nightmare. After the attempted murder of Cameron, Chase’s twin, and Jaci, Cam’s fiancée, by a friend Chase had been rather fond of, the other man had become darker, more apt to solitary pursuits than normal.

The Brockheims, parents of the girl who had nearly destroyed the fabric of Chase’s life, hadn’t taken her death well. Nor did they believe the fabrication the detective on scene had attempted to tell—that he himself had killed the girl after she shot Congressman Roberts.

The club members were still scrambling to protect Chase and Cameron against any measures the Brockheims would take against them. Not that they seemed to be taking any. But Khalid considered himself an intuitive man. And intuition told him two things.

One, Chase Falladay had never managed to rid himself of the fascination he had with Kia Rutherford. The second, and this one was by far the more worrisome, Moriah Brockheim could very well haunt Chase from the grave, in ways that could end up destroying Chase.

Moriah had been a friend, but she had also touched Chase’s heart with her innocence and her air of fragility. Kia Rutherford had been off limits to Chase because she touched his heart. But Khalid knew that Chase had entertained thoughts of a relationship with Moriah because, despite his affection for her, Moriah wasn’t the type of woman who could tempt his emotions.

It was saddening, remembering Moriah. For all her gentle ways, she had been insane. She had seen Cam and Jaci as a threat because Jaci had known what the Roberts were. That their sexuality was darker even than that of the members of the club, and Moriah’s demented love for Annalee Roberts had driven her to attempt to kill, Cam and Jaci.

To protect his brother, Chase had had no choice but to kill Moriah before she pulled the trigger on the gun she had held on Cam. That death haunted Chase, and it had caused him to draw back from forming other attachments.

Chase had killed a woman he cared for. Now he was faced with a relationship with the woman he loved. Khalid knew that releasing that guilt and his emotions wouldn’t be easy for Chase.

“Get decent, dammit. I’m getting hungry,” Chase called downstairs as he opened the door that connected his apartment to the apartment his brother and Jaci inhabited now.

He heard Jaci’s laughter and a few seconds of scrambling before she moved into view, smiling up at him from the foot of the stairs.

She had a robe tightly belted around her. He’d have to make do with that. For the first time in the two months since he and Cameron had silently come to the agreement that Cameron was no longer the sharing type, Chase hadn’t gotten instantly hard at the memories of the women he and Cameron had shared so easily.

Well, perhaps not easily, Chase amended to himself as he moved down the stairs.

Jaci had managed to get under his brother’s guard, though, now just as she had when they were both younger.

“Morning, gorgeous.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and planted a kiss on top of her head. “Tell me breakfast is almost ready. Please.”

She snorted at that and pushed him away from her playfully as she shot him a dark look. “That’s the only time you come down here now, when you think there’s food.”

He grinned, finding his brother sitting comfortably on a new couch as he laced his boots and laughed at his fiancée.

“Pancakes would be really good,” Chase told her, then ducked, dodging the dish towel she threw his way.

Chase moved to the counter, poured a cup of the fresh coffee, and smothered a yawn before moving to the couch to join his brother.

It was barely nine, and sleep had been a long time coming after Khalid dropped him off that morning.

“We didn’t hear you come in last night, Chase.” Jaci was pulling ingredients out of the fridge and cabinet as she spoke. “Did Khalid keep you out at the bars all night long?”

“Not too late.” He shrugged, sitting back to drink his coffee. “The sheik threw a fit over the new limo languishing in the garage, so Khalid took it out to see how long it would take to run out two tanks of gasoline.”

“All of an hour?” Cameron snorted.

Chase almost laughed. “It took him a while.”

“I thought you would show up at the party last night,” Jaci announced, still putting together the pancake batter. “The charity auction made quite a bit for the women’s and children’s shelter.”

The same party Kia had been at, Chase knew. Khalid had mentioned seeing her when he picked Chase up at the apartment.

“Not me.” Chase shook his head. “I donated to the cause, though.”

“The Brockheims were there.” Cameron kept his voice low as he stared back at Chase. “They stayed with a very small group of friends and left the group as Jaci and I came through. They didn’t stay long.”

Everyone was watching Harold and Margaret Brockheim at the moment. Especially the members of the club. Harold Brockheim was the president of a major bank in the city, and he had taken his daughter’s death hard. He was accusing the Roberts of corrupting her, but so far there had been no mention of Cameron or Chase.

Chase didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say. He had killed Moriah. It had come down to killing her or allowing her to murder Cameron as he watched.

“Carl will deal with it,” he finally said. “The detective has filed his official report, as has the coroner. The detective’s bullet was ruled the cause of death.”

“Annalee and Richard Roberts have attempted to smooth it over as well.” Cameron nodded. “But Margaret Brockheim, it seems, has disowned her stepsister, Annalee. The notices were in the papers the other night.”

Chase’s jaw tensed. For all the trouble Richard and Annalee had caused them personally, he still felt sorry as hell for the woman. She had loved her niece Moriah.

Chase glanced back at Jaci. She was quiet, her head bent to the preparation of the pancakes, her expression somber. Chase’s lips thinned at the look on her face. She hadn’t deserved the working over Moriah had given her over the years or the deceptions used in the attempt to destroy her.

He stared back at his brother, his expression hard. He would talk to a few members of the club when he went to the mansion this weekend. He needed to speak to them about Kia anyway. Protecting Jaci and Kia was paramount.

“I also had a call last night after the party.” Cameron suddenly grinned.

Chase’s brow lifted.

“You were seen leaving that little corner bar. Someone says you carried Ms. Kia Rutherford right into Khalid’s limo. I thought you had better sense than that, Chase. She nearly brought the club down single-handedly when she threw Drew out.”

Chase finished his coffee before leveling a silencing look at his brother.

“Someone was misinformed, I’m sure,” he finally growled.

Cameron grinned as Chase rose and moved back to the coffeepot.

“I’m going to kick your boyfriend’s ass again,” he warned Jaci.

She gave her boyfriend a hooded, sexy look. “Don’t hurt him too bad, huh? I’m still enjoying that tough body of his.”

He grunted at that, took his coffee, and moved to the sliding doors that opened onto the deck. It was still snowing. The white fluff had piled on the ground, snowplows were reported to be already working overtime, and still it fell.

It had been six months since Chase had learned how easily a woman could fool him, and still he wondered if he had learned that lesson clear to his soul. Because the more he stood there, staring into the cold, the more he wished he had stayed with Kia and kept them both warm.

He turned and stared at the brightly lit, decorated tree, sipped his coffee and called himself a thousand kinds of fool. He should have stayed. He should have wrapped himself around her, and maybe then he wouldn’t be staring into the swirling snow this morning and wondering if she was warm. And maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t have been cold himself.