Only Pleasure (Bound Hearts 10)
Page 110
And he had learned today, Kia could be a little tease. Her and those damned stockings, she had flashed them at him all day—in between the glares she shot him over his reaction to Drew.
He didn't like Drew, Chase thought. He never had cared much for the other man, but he had to admit, at the moment, there was a high chance he would end up seeing him dead. Because, God knows, controlling himself if he learned Drew had laid another hand on her would be impossible.
Chase believed in miracles. Every time he touched Kia he was reminded of that. But there was no miracle strong enough to save Drew Stanton if he was the reason Kia carried those stitches in her head.
"I have a party to attend tonight," she sighed, as she checked the PDA she carried in her purse. "It's a charity event I helped Dad put together. "
Chase nodded. He was aware of the party. He'd paid a hefty price for his ticket. A well-known band had donated its services, and many of the ticket holders were attending only for the pleasure of hearing the band.
"Tomorrow, I have several meetings after lunch. I may wait till later to go in to the office. Give Dad a chance to get the rest of his files together on the projects I want to discuss. "
She was touching the pad of the PDA with a slender stylus. The fuller portion of material twitched beneath her butt as she shifted and stepped out of the high heels she wore.
A second later she stored the PDA, picked up her shoes, and moved through the apartment.
Chase watched as she headed for the bedroom, a frown creasing his brows.
"Are you hungry?" he asked before she made it halfway through the dining alcove.
She paused and turned back to him. "Would you like to order out or get something on the way to the party?"
"How often do you eat anyway?" He propped his hands on his hips and stared at her through narrowed eyes.
It was either do something about dinner or fuck her. And if he fucked her, he might not let her out of the apartment.
"I eat often enough. " A little smile tipped her lips. "I can outeat a linebacker if you let me get hungry, but Dad had a snack for me in the office while I was there for our meeting. "
His frown deepened. He'd left her in the meeting with her father and a security guard while he met with Cameron in the lobby of the apartment.
"What kind of snack?"
He watched her brow arch, her lips twitch. "It wasn't much, I promise. "
"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. "