Only Pleasure

7

Sleep came only in fits and spurts. Kia finally gave up and moved from the couch. Slipping on her house slippers she stepped out onto her balcony and let the brisk winter wind whip around her as she stared into the brilliant blue of the morning sky.

Where did it leave a woman when she realized how empty her life had become? When she looked in the cold, dark yawning recesses and realized how weak and lonely she has become? So lonely that she let herself believe that a few hours of pleasure would be enough. That she was courageous enough, immune enough to the needs other women had, that she was trading her heart for that pleasure.

Chase had only come to her twice. There had been no phone calls in between those times, no dinner, no lunch. There had been nothing to indicate that he wanted anything more than that pleasure.

Chase wasn’t a subtle man. He was dominant, forceful, quiet, and controlled, but he wasn’t subtle. If he had wanted more from her, he would have demanded it.

And really, could she blame him for not wanting more? Her anger and outrage two years before had risked his reputation as well as the reputations of the men and women it was his job to protect. And when she had retracted her statements, she had moved out of society as much as possible, disillusioned with the friends she had thought she had, suddenly left adrift and uncertain which way to turn.

So she had hidden. Here in this huge, lonely apartment, she had hidden and forced herself to be content with it. Because the wounds had gone so deep, had been so ragged, that she’d had no idea how to heal them.

The night Drew had come to her with champagne and flowers, wanting to repair the rift that had opened between them, she had wanted to believe him. She didn’t handle champagne well, or any alcohol, actually; her tolerance was very low. It hadn’t taken him long to get her drunk enough that she was dazed and confused.

When he had carried her into their bedroom, she had felt like a princess. When he undressed her, she had closed her eyes and imagined love. And then she had felt another man’s hands.

She shook the memory away. The horror of her husband and another man holding her in her bed. Drew holding her down as she fought, as she cried and begged them to let her go.

It had finally been the third who had stepped away, then tore her husband away from her long enough for her to escape into the bathroom, where she locked herself in, sobbing in fear. It had been that third, and she still didn’t know who he had been, who had argued in the bedroom with her husband, nearly fought, she believed, before he slammed out of the room. And it was only minutes later that her father had arrived, apartment security behind him, responding to a call that his daughter was in trouble.

Drew had never told her who that third person was. When her father arrived at the apartment, one of his security personnel from the company headquarters accompanying him, Drew had been enraged.

Her father had been coldly, dangerously furious. He had wrapped her in his jacket, wrapped his arms around her shaking body, and he had taken her back to the home she had been raised in.

Her parents had sheltered her for as long as they could. She had used her father’s lawyer, Lenore Zimmer, to file for divorce from Drew. Lenore had made certain Drew was out of the home before Kia returned, that he paid the bills until the divorce was final. She had been a godsend to Kia. But nothing, no amount of comforting, no settlement amount, could make up for the knowledge that her dearest friend, Rebecca, had been telling everyone she knew the information Kia had given her while she had been practically in shock and struggling to understand why her husband had attempted to hurt her as he had.

Everyone does it, Drew had screamed at the bathroom door. That bitch Tessa Andrews you think so highly of, her husband is one of the head members. That son of a bitch you eat with your eyes every chance you get, Chase Falladay, all our fucking friends, you stupid bitch. Why the hell do you think I’ve been encouraging those friendships?

And he had. There had been Tally Rafferty, Ella Wyman, so many others. People she knew but had never been friends with, people she couldn’t imagine living the lifestyle he had attempted to force her into.

As she rubbed at her cold arms and stepped back into the apartment, she admitted she couldn’t truly blame Chase for what she was feeling right now. Perhaps she expected too much from him, as Drew had accused her of expecting too much of him.

It wasn’t his place to fill her bed at night. To hold back the cold. He hadn’t made her any promises, she thought sadly, closing the doors behind her. He had promised her pleasure, and he had delivered well on that promise. She had no right to ask anything more of him.

So where did that leave her? At this rate, if she didn’t get her head straight and figure her own life out, then she was going to become old and bitter before her time. Twenty-six was much too young to give up on life or having friends entirely.

Chase had taught her that. Through the pleasure he gave her, the warmth that surrounded her when he gave it, and the cold that filled her when he left, he had shown her she couldn’t live in such isolation. And she was tired of being alone.

She could have friends. It just might take her a while to find the right friends, she thought. And those friends only needed to know the most basic information about her. Anything about her marriage or her divorce, she didn’t have to answer. She didn’t want to answer.

She had made a mistake two years before. She had hid, licked her wounds, and tried to make sense of what happened in her life. There was no making sense of it. She should have picked herself up, held her head high, and forced herself to remain a part of the world she and Drew had inhabited.

But now, how to fix the problem? Perhaps her mother could help. Wasn’t she forever inviting Kia to lunch or dinner with her and her friends? They were older, yes, but invitations were still invitations.

As she frowned at that thought, the doorbell chimed.

Kia’s head jerked to the door. Few people came to her apartment. Her parents always called first.

Chase?

She moved to the door, lifted herself to her tiptoes, and stared into the peephole before pulling back, biting her lip, and wondering why the hell they were out there.

The sound chimed again.

Disengaging the lock, Kia opened the door slowly and stood back, staring at the pair in confusion. Ella Wyman and Tessa Andrews were dressed for shopping. Shopping was a serious game in Alexandria. Flat-soled shoes for Ella, low-heeled pumps for Tess. They each wore slacks and stylish camp shirts and carried larger purses.

“Can I help you?” She was standing in her robe, her hair mussed, her feet pushed into ugly fuzzy mules, staring back at the two of them in confusion.

“Yes, darling, you can move back so we can come in.” Ella smiled at her gently, her gray eyes twinkling in a face that appeared much younger than what Kia knew her actual age was. Ella Wyman was forty-four years old, several years older than her handsome, charming second husband, James.

Kia moved back slowly.

“She looks like we’ve come to lynch her up, Mom,” Tessa’s low laughter passed Kia as they entered the apartment.

Ella stopped just inside the foyer. She stared at the couch, the low gas fire, and read much more into it than Kia would have appreciated her knowing.

The blanket on the couch, the pillow on the arm. The print of Kia’s slight body was still in the cushions, testifying that the young woman used it often to sleep in. It was more than likely her bed, and the knowledge of that was sad indeed.

Ella knew that kind of loneliness. The soul-deep, bottomless pit of cold that a large bed only intensified.

Kia closed the door and watched the two warily. “Are you certain you meant to come here?”

Ella Wyman was friends with her mother, and she knew Ella’s husband did quite a bit of business with her parents.

“Have you had coffee yet?” Ella turned to her, her soft auburn hair swinging around her shoulders as she stared back at her with the same expression her mother used when attempting to convince Kia to do something she didn’t want to do.

“Yes,” Kia answered her slowly. “Would you like some?”

“I’ll fix it.” Ella waved her hand dismissively and headed to the open kitchen. “You need to get a shower.”

“I do?” Kia watched her cautiously now, aware of Tessa standing back, her amused expression and sparkling gray eyes, so like her mother’s, filled with warmth and a little too much purpose.

Ella moved into the kitchen and began opening cabinet doors as she turned back to glance at Kia.

“We’re going shopping,” the older woman informed her. “Dress for comfort, because the sales are numerous and the crowds are horrendous.”

“Why are we going shopping?” Kia asked, carefully keeping her voice level despite the fear that a madwoman had invaded her home.

Her cabinet door slammed as Ella rounded on her, propping her hands on her slender hips and glaring back at Kia.

“Your mother should be ashamed of herself for allowing you to hide as she has. I had a very interesting discussion with her last night, and Tessa and I have decided to take you in hand. Now, get your shower, and get ready to shop. Consider yourself in our hands and don’t screw your face up like that. It isn’t becoming.”

Kia instantly smoothed the scowl from her expression, then frowned again when she did so.

“What does my mother have to do with this?”

“I love Celia like my own sister.” Ella shook her head. “But it’s obvious she had no idea what to do with you. I do.”

“Do you now?” Kia crossed her arms over her breasts and regarded the other woman with mock curiosity. “What is that?”

“By informing you that you have allowed your ex-husband to win, you’ve tucked your fluffy little tail between your legs and disappeared.”

Her fluffy little tail? Kia had an insane urge to reach back and see if she had somehow managed to add additional pounds there without meaning to.

Drew had dealt a blow to her pride that had been hard to overcome.

“So you care if Drew thinks he’s won, why?” Kia tilted her head to the side as Ella continued making coffee in a kitchen that was not her own.

Ella Wyman had balls. Kia’s mother had always made that statement accompanied by affectionate laughter.

“Sweetheart, if the only ones we care about are ourselves, then we’re no better than that trash that tried to destroy you. Now, take that shower. I’m fixing breakfast and coffee, and then we’re going shopping. It’s girls’ day out, so get prepared for it.”

How long had it been since she had had a girls’ day out? Years, in fact. She’d even refused her mothers invitations. But Kia and her mother disagreed on just about every article of clothing that Kia preferred for herself.

“You’re only allowing Rebecca to believe she’s won,” Tessa inserted at this point. “That’s a mistake in this town, Kia, and you know it. You never let them see you bleed. But even more, you never let them see you hide. And refusing to be seen in public with Chase Falladay after you were seen leaving a party with him is an even larger mistake. There were comments made when you weren’t at the dinner club with him and the friends he meets with there.”

Humiliation flared inside Kia.

“Perhaps I wasn’t invited.” She smiled coolly. “You’re under the impression Chase Falladay and I have a relationship, Tessa. It’s a mistaken impression.”

Surprise narrowed Tessa’s eyes as she glanced at her mother.

Ella was outraged, though she was careful to keep that knowledge from the young woman whose eyes flashed with pain and whose expression filled with quiet pride.

Tessa had unintentionally hurt her, but they had watched Chase carefully. He was cool to the women who approached him at that club, where he was rarely cool to any woman. Chase gave all the signs of a man involved. And even James had been smirking the night before the dinner that Chase was falling for the Rutherford girl. And James was rarely wrong.

“Well, we’re all prone to mistaken impressions,” Ella told Kia. “Go. Shower. Breakfast will be in an hour, and we’re leaving soon after. The sales won’t wait for us.”

“Perhaps this isn’t a good day.” Kia stared back at them, all that hurt pride hidden beneath that cool little voice.

“It’s the perfect day,” Ella informed her. “And I won’t be leaving without you. To get rid of us, I guess you’ll just have to go shopping with us.”

Kia felt as though her chest was going to erupt with the ache inside it. Already people were forming impressions, placing her with Chase. It was going to appear as though he had rejected her. As though she wasn’t enough woman to hold his attention any longer than it had taken him to fuck her.

Her fists clenched as she turned and strode from the kitchen. Shopping was the last thing she wanted to do. Especially with two women who were witnesses to the fact that she couldn’t even hold Chase’s attention long enough for dinner with friends.

Damn her own stubborn, stubborn need for a man who obviously had no need for her.

She showered because it was the only way to release the tears building inside her. Because she was furious with herself and with Chase and with the damned society she couldn’t seem to hide from, no matter how hard she tried.

Gossip had never bothered her. But her pride was always her downfall. It always had been. She would get ready, she would go shopping, and when it was over, she would decide for herself exactly how she would show Rebecca Harding how little her opinion mattered. And once she did that, then she would try to cure herself of this strange addiction to Chase Falladay. Before it destroyed her.

“Mom, are we the only ones under the impression that Chase Falladay has a thing for her?” Tessa asked after Kia was safely in the shower.

Ella gave her short sniff. “Not hardly. Cameron told James last week that Chase was so torn over the girl that he was walking backward.”

“He hasn’t even taken her to dinner?” Tessa whispered, shocked. “They aren’t involved?”

Ella shook her head, glancing back at the door as she frowned in concern.

“Courtney says Chase was yelling in Ian’s office over that stupid ex-husband of Kia’s, Drew. Chase never yells over anything.”

Ella glanced toward the bedroom. “It doesn’t matter. Whether she’s Chase’s or not, she’s hid long enough.” Then she smiled. “But I know how to find out if she is Chase’s.”

“Oh, Mom, what are you going to do?” Tessa’s eyes widened, but Ella was proud to see the amused trust in her gaze.

Ella shrugged. “There are ways, Tessa.” She made a shushing motion and pointed toward the sounds in Kia’s bedroom. “Trust me, there are many many ways.”

It had been too many years since Kia had gone shopping with the girls. By the time they were half an hour into the excursion, two others had joined them, Kimberly Raddington and Terrie Wyman. Within another hour, Courtney Sinclair and Jaci Wright, Chase’s brother’s fiancée, were there as well.

The crowd of women was met eagerly by each store manager, and Kia was certain a small fortune was spent in those shops.

Kia found herself drawn back to her own favorites. The lingerie stores that specialized in the wickedly erotic items she had treasured before her marriage. Before Drew had systematically destroyed the confidence she had in herself.

Chase had loved the panties, bras, and stockings she had picked out to wear with her gowns, though. What would he do if he saw her in the lacy corset she found, the panties barely there, the stockings inset with tiny, sparkling decorations?

There were the camisole sets, silk and lace, wicked and erotic. And as she looked at them, she remembered Chase’s expression both times he undressed her. The pleasure in his face when he tore aside the sexy panties.

She picked up more than she should have. With each piece, she thought about whether Chase would see them, if he would enjoy them.

There were sleep sets and underclothes sets. And with each one, she knew she was spending money on pieces of frippery that might never be seen by the man she was buying them for.

She was unaware of the looks the other women gave her, the way they examined each piece she placed in her basket, and how Courtney used her cell phone to catch several pictures of her. Just so they could be sure that certain parties would overhear them discussing the articles when they met at Courtney’s later that evening.

They talked her into a pair of heels that made her look like a sex goddess with her petite figure, and a pair of boots to match a too-short dress that she knew she would never wear.

The black boots hugged her legs and went over the knees. Three-inch heels and a hidden zipper. They went very well with the just-below—the-thigh deep violet dress that she blushed at the thought of wearing.

So why had she bought it? Because she looked at it and saw the woman who hid inside her. And she bought it because that woman desperately needed something as wild as she wanted to be.

The dress was more tease than reveal. But it was a dress a woman knew would draw looks, a dress guaranteed to stimulate interest.

By the time they collapsed in their chairs around the table one of the more exclusive restaurants had held for them, Kia was exhausted. Her feet were throbbing, and the wine she had with her meal had her smothering a yawn.

“I’ve had enough, Ella,” Kimberly moaned as she sat back in her chair and stared at her empty wineglass balefully. “If I have one more drink, or have to enter one more store, Jared is going to have to leave the office and cart me home. He won’t be pleased, you know.” Her nose wrinkled mischievously. “Maybe.”

Kia smiled at that knowing addition to her declaration.

“I’ve had it, too.” Jaci glared at Ella. “Cameron didn’t tell me you were worse than a drill sergeant when you went shopping. He’s supposed to know these things.”

“Cameron knows.” Courtney laughed. “Ian sent him and Chase to tag along several times last year when the negotiations on some piece of property got nasty. They swore the next time Ian drafted them as bodyguards, they were quitting.”

“Oh, but they were definite eye candy,” Kimberly drawled. “Dark and fierce, and oh so sexy.”

“Hey, one of those dark, fierce, oh-so-sexys belongs to me,” Jaci protested with a good-natured laugh. “How the hell am I supposed to look him in the eye without cracking up when I get home if you sit and sigh over him? Sigh over your own hunks.”

“That, dear, is the fun in shopping with us.” Ella reached over and patted her hand playfully. “You get to snicker when you get home, and he’ll wonder exactly why you’re so amused. It keeps them on their toes.”

“Yeah, and we get to watch Ella blush every time we talk about James’s hard abs.” Courtney laughed back at the older woman. “We managed to get pictures when he was working out at the club pool one day.”

And Ella did blush, to the roots of her hair. “You girls are evil,” she hissed playfully. “Evil.”

Laughter filled the table then.

“I love it when we manage to slip something on them.” Kimberly’s low laughter was fond, affectionate. “They’re such men.”

“James did not love it when he found out about those pictures,” Ella moaned. “He pouted for weeks.”

They laughed as Kia smiled at the byplay.

“Cameron thinks all of you are insane,” Jaci accused them. “I think he’s terrified of you.”

“He should be,” Ella charged. “You should remind him, I’ve known him for many, many years. He and his brother both. There’s not much they’ve done that doesn’t get around eventually.”

Kia lowered her head, terrified by the thought of showing too much interest at this point. She wanted to hear more, needed to hear more.

Jaci said no more, though, and the subject changed again, and once again when Kia finished her wine and stood up.

“Ladies, I’m calling it a day,” she told them before turning to Ella as she rose as well. “Thank you for having me along.”

“We’ll make certain we kidnap you again next time.” Ella laughed before hugging her warmly. “Tell your mother I said hello, and I hope to talk to her soon.”

“Soon.” Kia nodded and picked up her purse from the floor, thankful she’d had her purchases sent to her apartment rather than carrying them, and left the table.

She nodded to the mâitre d’ at the arch of his brows asking about a cab, and knew one would be waiting when she stepped out of the entrance to the restaurant.

She had barely stepped into the lobby when she paused, her chin lifting at the sight of Drew standing beside the entrance.

He was barely six feet tall, still in reasonably good shape. Perfectly cut and sculpted brown hair, brown eyes, a fake tan, and a scowl. Drew hadn’t changed much in the past two years.

Inhaling slowly, she moved toward the doors as the cab pulled up.

For two years he had maintained a distance, though he had never stayed completely away. He showed up at the parties she was invited to, stared at her, glared at her, watched her every move. He still called, he still tried to convince her to return to him, to give him another chance.

She wanted nothing more than to remain as far away from him as possible.

“Not even a hello, darling?” he drawled spitefully as he blocked the door, then edged her to the side.

She was aware of the controlling maneuver, of his knowledge that she wouldn’t cause a scene by attempting to struggle past him.

“Not even a hello.” She stood still and calm, staring back at him. “Get out of my way.”

He sneered back at her as he glanced outside the tall, wide windows that looked out on the street. “I don’t see Khalid’s limo waiting for you. Or Chase. Have you fallen out of favor already?”

Kia remained silent. She stared out the window, watching as she lost her cab to another couple. She had no intention of arguing with him publicly.

“I saw who you left the ball with,” he hissed, surprising her. “Just as I waited outside our fucking apartment building and saw who left later. You fucking mealymouthed hypocrite.”

Kia felt her flush as she backed away from him, embarrassed horror beginning to grow inside her.

“Evidently, I should have paid closer attention to where your eyes wandered,” he snapped. “You never could keep your fucking eyes off Chase Falladay, then you scream and cry when I try to give you what you want?”

His voice was still low enough that he hadn’t drawn attention. She stared around the lobby, catching the mâitre d’s gaze as he frowned at Drew. When he turned away, she felt her heart rate spike.

“Look at me, Kia,” he snarled.

She turned back to him. “We have nothing to discuss, Mr. Stanton. Please let me by.”

Reining in her own anger wasn’t easy. For two years he had caused her no end of grief. He had managed to interfere with several of the charitable projects she still chaired through her father’s company, where he still had a job. He continually played the abused partner to her parents and managed to draw some sympathy from them.

“You’re whoring yourself for them.” Anger stamped his features. “He wouldn’t agree to be a third two years ago; do you think he’s doing it now for any reason other than the friendship of that bastard Khalid?”

Shock ripped a gash through her soul as he spat the words at her. Good Lord, surely he hadn’t asked Chase… Not that. But she knew he would have. That he had. And Chase had never said a word.

“Stay away from me, Drew!” She stepped up to him, snapping the order into his face, baring her teeth as rage began to tear through her. “Stay away from me or I’ll have a restraining order placed against you. I won’t tell you a second time.”

She pushed past him as he suddenly stepped back, surprising her. She swept through the doors, hailing a cab that just happened to be passing and stepping into it quickly. She was shaking, furious.

He had asked Chase to be his third, and Chase had never told her? She wanted to cover her face in mortification. Whether because he had asked, or because Chase had turned him down, she couldn’t decide.

She felt humiliated to the very core of her being and prayed now that she didn’t see Chase anytime soon. God, how messed up could her life get?

Khalid stepped up to Drew Stanton slowly from where he had stood in an alcove, his gaze unblinking, his expression still and calm; he made certain of it.

The smaller man paled, rather as he had done the night he had attempted to rape his wife and found the point of Khalid’s dagger against his throat.

Khalid had agreed to be his third once. Once, because Drew’s wife had that latent, unawakened sensuality that always attracted Khalid.

If he’d wondered about Drew giving him the key to the apartment and the time to arrive, then Khalid hadn’t questioned it. Each member of Ian Sinclair’s men’s club had his own way of handling such affairs, just as Khalid did.

When he arrived, Kia had appeared lost in the pleasure her husband had been giving her. As Khalid joined, it hadn’t taken long to learn that pleasure was drunkenness, and when she realized another man had touched her, hysteria had filled her.

He couldn’t blame her. He thanked God daily that Stanton had heeded the point of Khalid’s dagger and never revealed who his third was that night.

“I wasn’t bothering her.” Drew dampened his lips nervously as his back came against the wall.

Khalid stopped.

“I can have you killed slowly,” he whispered to him then. “Stolen from your bed, taken to a desert that will never know your name, and tortured until you beg for hell. Do you want this, little man?” he insulted him.

Drew paled alarmingly.

“You have harmed her enough,” Khalid stated.

“She’s my wife.”

Khalid smiled slowly. “You wish to see hell?”

Drew shook his head quickly.

“Then heed my warning. Heed it well. Because we both know, worm, I would have no problem cutting your balls off and feeding them to my pets. Don’t we?”

He didn’t wait for a response. He moved to the doors instead and left the restaurant as his limo pulled up to the curb.

Sliding into the back he looked into the rearview mirror where his chauffeur watched him.

“Ms. Rutherford’s apartment building, Abdul. It seems I have some business there.”

Abdul nodded and the limo slid smoothly from the curb. Perhaps, Khalid thought, he should have just killed Drew Stanton when he had the proper excuse. Now that messy conscience of his would just bother Khalid.

For a day or two.