That loneliness was destructive. Chase knew it was. He had been there, long ago and far away, and he knew it didn’t work.

As he watched, he ground his teeth in anger. Daniel Conover, cousin to Lucian and Devril Conover, members of the club and co-lovers to that little spitfire Tally Rafferty, had stopped her.

Daniel’s blond good looks, his suave and practiced flirtiness always charmed women.

“Daniel didn’t waste much time, did he?” Khalid remarked beside Chase.

The bastard was laughing at him. Chase should have known better than to start socializing with the damned mocking, self-proclaimed playboy. Khalid prided himself on driving his father insane by convincing the world at large that he was a lazy, shiftless spoiled rich boy on the make. He prided himself on driving his friends crazy, too.

“Daniel doesn’t have a chance,” Chase growled.

To which Khalid gave a noncommittal little hum.

“What the hell does that mean?” He frowned at the other man.

“What does what mean?” Khalid was openly laughing now.

“That sound,” Chase said.

“It merely means whatever you think.” Khalid shrugged. “But Daniel is rather popular with the women. And as we’ve found out, Kia has become rather alone. Women should never be alone in such ways, Chase. It’s a crime against nature, against their very instincts.”

“Don’t start lecturing me on women, Khalid,” he retorted.

“And so there goes my fun for the night.” Khalid chuckled. “I wonder if Ian would allow me to dance with Courtney. I wouldn’t have to worry about her groping me in public as that shameless little Rebecca Harding did.”

There was an edge of censure in Khalid’s voice that Chase rarely heard. He would have commented on it, but Daniel chose that moment to actually touch Kia. He reached out and ran the backs of his fingers down her arm. Chase had had enough.

He wondered if he really growled.

“Should I have the limo brought around?” Khalid asked him, more than just amused now.

Chase didn’t bother answering him. Khalid would have his driver on call and the limo would be at the door in seconds if they needed it.

He made his way through the crowd, nodding as guests called to him, ignoring questions, his eyes narrowed, his entire focus on Kia.

She was shaking her head as Daniel tipped his blond head to the side to ask her something. She shook it again as Chase moved in behind her.

“Chase.” Daniel smiled as Kia turned quickly, her hands bracing against Chase’s chest as she realized how close they were.

The moment she touched him, she felt something shift inside her. Languorous weakness invaded her body, her nipples peaked, the flesh between her thighs grew swollen, sensitive. Wet. Just that fast.

As though she had been waiting for his hands to cup her arms, his light green eyes to meet hers, his expression to shift with the memory of one stolen night they had shared.

“Chase.” His name slipped from her lips on a sigh, as though of relief.

“You promised me a dance, Kia,” he told her, his voice lowered, smooth, like the finest brandy on the coldest night, and that was how it filled her.

“I did, didn’t I?” She was mesmerized by his eyes, by his lips.

The world seemed to stop, there and then. The music whispered in the distance, voices became muted, unimportant, as they ignored Daniel and he drew her to the dance floor and pulled her into his arms.

Her head went against his shoulder, her arms around his neck as his arms encircled her, and he began to lead her around the floor.

She was lost. Nothing else mattered but the dance and the man, the arms holding her, and the feel of him against her.

“You look like a jewel in that dress,” he whispered, bending his head to her, as though they were the only ones who existed at that moment.

“I almost didn’t wear it,” she admitted, too lost to sensation to play the flirty game or the cool, bored socialite.

“Why?” His lips brushed her ear.

“I don’t like standing out.”

“You look beautiful. Like a sapphire in the snow. I saw you the moment I entered the room.”

And she had wanted him to see her, she realized. The moment she saw the dress the other day, she had known it would draw attention, and a part of her had wondered if it would draw Chase’s attention.

The stroke of his eyes was better than no stroke at all. And how she had missed the stroke of his hands.

One stolen night hadn’t been enough. She had lain alone the rest of the week, aching, dreaming, awakening and whimpering when he wasn’t there on her lonely couch beside her.

“I’ve decided blue is my favorite color,” he whispered, nipping her ear with a subtle little bite. “But I liked white, too. Tell me, baby, do your pretty panties and bra match that dress?”

She almost lost her breath. Her head lifted as she looked up at him, meeting his eyes, holding his gaze and the heat and hardness of his body.

“Yes.” She licked her dry lips, arousal pouring through her now.

“And the stockings?” He pressed her head back to his chest, whispering the words against her hair.

“Lighter.”

“Silk?”

“Yes.”

“I’m going to unwrap you like a present tonight,” he told her, his voice roughening. “Khalid has a new oil he swears was made for you. Would you like us to use it?”

He wanted to use it. She could hear it in his voice.

“Yes.” She wasn’t capable of more than that. The words came out as a whimper, a sighing little cry of need.

The need was like a fever inside her. It had built over the days, simmering and then flaming, and now it was sweeping through her body like a wildfire.

“Have you been wet for me, Kia?” he asked her then. “Have you touched yourself and imagined me?”

Her eyes were closed, the memory of trying to find release as she thought of him burning through her.

“I always think of you then.” She swallowed tightly. “I always have.”

“Always?”

“Longer than I should have,” she admitted.

He had fascinated her, even before her marriage. Turned her head, made her wonder at the wicked sensuality she had caught in his expression sometimes.

“I think of you.” His lips caressed her temple. “Jacking off isn’t nearly as pleasurable as fucking you, Kia. Filling you and hearing you scream and beg for more.”

She could barely breathe. The erotic words were tearing through her brain, naughty, explicit, making her dampen her panties with the thought of the things he had done to her in Khalid’s limo.

“I dream of you,” she admitted, wondering where she had gained the strength or the breath to force herself to speak. “Every night I’ve dreamed of you, Chase.”

“What did I do to you?” His hands tightened on her hips.

“You took me in the snow,” she whispered. “The cold around us, and you were hot within me. And I ached so desperately, Chase. I needed you to take me hard, and you stayed still. You watched me beg, yet you didn’t move.”

His hard body tensed further. “I wouldn’t do that to you, Kia. When I get inside that hot pussy, staying still isn’t an option,” he growled.

She couldn’t breathe. She was on the verge of melting at his feet, of dying in his arms. She could feel the need intensifying within her. Her clit was a painful engorged knot of nerve endings, the rasp of it against her lacy panties making her insane as he forced her to step, to move, to dance against him.

“This dress is going to come off you,” he told her. “Slowly. And before we ever take you. we’ll have you screaming for it.”

“As long as you take me.” Filled her, chased away the cold that had only grown in the past week.

She was tempting her own destruction, and she knew it. If she thought the loneliness had been bad before, it had only grown after. How much worse would it be when he left her again?

“Over and over,” he promised her. “Will you leave with me, Kia? Khalid’s limo is waiting. We can go to your apartment and spend the night giving you everything you’ve dreamed of.”