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.
8
Chase slammed the file drawer closed, ignoring his twin’s amusement, before he paced back to his desk and sat down heavily. He opened the next file, but damned if he could see a word he was reading. All he could think about was Kia. That damned stoic, somber look on her face the last time he’d seen her. Her gaze had been quiet; there hadn’t even been anger there, just this prideful acceptance that he wasn’t going to stay.
“You know, Marcy Stephens bragged quite horribly about the nights you and Cameron spent in her bed. She swears Cameron was the one who escaped moments after his release and you were the one who petted her through the night. She must have managed to get the two of you mixed up.”