“Stanton, my office,” Timothy ordered him.

“Like hell,” Drew replied. “Do you know what they accused me of, Rutherford?”

“I’m well aware of it,” Timothy snapped.

He didn’t like Stanton. He had never forgotten the bruise on his daughter’s face or the fear in her eyes, compliments of this little bastard. He’d kept him on because of Kia’s furious protests. Because she had asked it of him, demanded it. But the time for that was coming to an end as he had prayed it would.

“My office. Now,” Timothy told him. “Or you can turn in your resignation.”

Drew’s mouth worked furiously. A red flush filled his face as Chase gave him a tight-lipped, cold smile. Falladay was going to rub it in, of course, not that Timothy blamed him, but it wasn’t going to make settling Drew down any easier.

“Now, Stanton,” Timothy repeated, stepping back from the door. “You know the alternative.” Oh, it was finally time. Time to get rid of the bastard who had hurt his daughter.

“Screw you!” Drew glared back at him. “You and this fucking job.”

He stalked from the office, rage tightening his shoulders as he stomped from the outer office and slammed the door closed there.

Timothy breathed in heavily.

“You have a handle on this one?” he asked his daughter, almost grinning at Chase’s scowl.

“For now,” she said. And she did, indeed. Her high heels were digging into the carpet, one arm wrapped around Chase’s neck, the other around his waist.

Timothy nodded and left the office.

Kia almost breathed out a sigh of relief before Chase lifted her bodily, set her aside, and stalked to the door, where he twisted the lock viciously.

She shouldn’t have followed him. She should have moved to her desk rather than fearing he was going after Drew, because before she knew it, he had her against the door, his body pressing into hers, one hand buried in her hair, the other pressed against the door behind her.

“I’m going to kill that little prick,” he said softly, dangerously. “The first chance I get.”

Kia forced back her trepidation, knowing that if she didn’t distract that fury, then Drew just might end up dead.

“You know, Chase, for a man who stated he doesn’t want a relationship, you’re becoming rather high maintenance as far as relationship matters are concerned. Especially other men. You better watch it, or before you know it, you’ll be putting my name on that little black mailbox outside your apartment.”

His eyes narrowed. Icy green flickered over her face, her breasts as they rose and fell due to the panic rising inside her.

He didn’t even flinch at her accusation.

“You’d better be very very careful, Kia, or I’m going to have you bent over that desk with my dick buried so deep inside you that you’re not going to remember how to access that smart mouth of yours,” he warned her with chilling politeness, with arousing arrogance. “And if I ever find out Drew was the one who attacked you, then when they find his body, there won’t be enough left to identify him.”

She didn’t have time to argue, didn’t have a chance to berate him.

His lips slammed over hers, his tongue parting them, pushing inside as she gasped and felt the flames beginning to race through her, over her, between them and around them.

A second later he pushed away from her and stalked back to his chair. “Leave the door locked. I’ll answer it if anyone needs to come in.”

She didn’t argue.

She pressed her fingers to her sensitive lips before moving slowly back to her desk, her eyes on his, aware of how he watched her, the promise in his gaze.

Something darker, more forbidden, had risen inside him. Something she wondered if she was really equipped to handle, though she knew handling it was something she would give her all to.

Chase escorted Kia into his apartment that evening, his hand riding low on her back, feeling her hips shift and move with sensual precision beneath his touch.

He loved touching her as she moved, feeling the energy she kept contained inside her, imagining how it could come out later.

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.”