“Ian met with Drew this afternoon,” Khalid finally stated, his gaze moving over the ballroom before coming back to Chase. “He had information that may well concern you and Kia as well.”

This wasn’t about the attack on Kia. If it had been, Khalid or Ian would have contacted him. This was personal, and Chase had a pretty good idea what it was.

Khalid grimaced, his lips flattening again, obviously reluctant to give Chase the information.

“Does it have anything to do with the fact that you were Drew Stanton’s third that night?” Chase finally asked.

Khalid’s eyes flared with surprise. “You knew?”

Chase shrugged at the question. “You’re too protective of Kia, Khalid. You were either in love with her or eaten up with guilt. I know you too well, my friend. I knew it wasn’t love; that left guilt. It was easy to figure it out from there.”

Normally, Khalid’s lusts ran much darker and a bit rougher than what he had displayed with Kia. The other man had been too intent, had gone to abnormal lengths to make certain each touch, each kiss, each caress was nothing but pleasure, nothing but those strokes, those whispers that would build a woman’s confidence and her pleasure.

“And I’m still alive?” Khalid asked.

Chase grunted at that. Killing Khalid wouldn’t be that easy.

He had figured it out during that second ménage with Kia. But there was no anger. As Drew’s third that night, Khalid had made certain Kia wasn’t raped, that she had the precious time she needed to lock herself away from Drew. Then he had called her father to come for her.

“You saved her, Khalid,” he said finally, with a sigh. “It’s not your place to feel guilt over what happened that night. She got through it. She might not have if you hadn’t been there.”

Khalid nodded slowly, then said, “It seems my threats have lost their effectiveness. Drew is threatening to go before the review board of the club to have my membership placed under sanction. This, too, I thought you should be aware of, should you require me again. By sanctioning me, they will also be sanctioning any relationships I have formed within the club.” He looked over at Kia. “She is a beautiful woman, my friend. That part I would regret. The rest…” He shrugged again. “My life affords me the freedom and whatever pleasures I choose. However I choose them.”

Chase grinned at that. Arrogance wasn’t something Khalid lacked.

Then he frowned. Kia’s father had moved to the table and was holding his hand out to her. Timothy Rutherford wanted a dance with his daughter. Damn.

He watched as she was drawn to the dance floor. The female per-former was singing a lighthearted ballad, her clear, pretty voice bringing the couples to the dance floor. And it was filling up.

He didn’t like that because he kept losing sight of her and her father. He tracked their progress and felt that edge of danger biting at his neck again.

“You are in love with her, are you not?” Khalid asked, his voice faintly showing his amusement.

Chase took a second to glance at him ruefully. “Is it that easy to see?”

“Eh, only to one who knows you well, perhaps.” Khalid grinned. “But it appears I will win the pool this month. I predicted your fall before the end of the third week of December. The others were predicting much later.”

That damned club pool. That was Courtney’s fault, damn her. Somehow she managed to sneak into the club and write the bet down on the books every damned time it struck her fancy.

“Yes, it looks like you won,” Chase acknowledged. He had lost sight of Kia once more.

“There are many dancing,” Khalid said a second later when Chase couldn’t find her. “I’ve lost her as well.”

Chase was tensing to move when he finally saw Timothy Rutherford move along the opposite edge of the crowd. Kia was no longer with him.

“Find her,” he ordered Khalid, and they slipped between the couples moving on the dance floor.

Chase searched for her as he headed for her father’s position. He was talking with other couples.

“Timothy.” Chase stepped up to the small group. “Excuse me, I’m looking for Kia. I wanted a dance.”

Timothy turned back to him. “She’s on the dance floor.” He grinned. “You can’t keep her off it when she’s in the mood to dance.”

“I don’t see her.” Chase surveyed the crowd again. “Who did she go off with?”

“Harold Brockheim cut in on us,” Timothy told him. “Has always been fond of Kia. Even though she and Moriah weren’t exactly friends.”

Of course, Timothy had no idea exactly what had happened the day Moriah Brockheim died. But Chase had suspected for months that her father did. Annalee had warned Chase that Harold wasn’t accepting the explanation and had asked Chase point-blank if Chase had killed his daughter.

It clicked then. Slammed into his brain with the force of lightning striking into the ground. That was why it didn’t make sense, why none of it made sense. It wasn’t Drew who had targeted Kia. It was Brockheim.

He moved quickly away from the group, ignoring Timothy, and surged back into the crowd of dancers.

He had to find her. Brockheim couldn’t have had time to take her from the ballroom. He wouldn’t be able to force her out of the room, and Kia wouldn’t leave willingly with him.

Brockheim couldn’t be armed. There were too many sensors at the entrances to the ballroom. He would have to force her out by brute strength, and Kia would never allow that.

He had to find her. He had to get her away from Harold Brockheim, and then he could deal with the other man. Moriah’s insanity was obviously a genetic inheritance if that son of a bitch thought Chase was going to allow him to get away with this.

“Chase, I can’t find her.” Khalid grabbed his shoulder, forcing him to a stop. “Ian and Courtney are looking, and Cameron and Jaci, too. We haven’t found her anywhere.”

“Brockheim has her.”

Khalid stared at him in silent shock.

“Listen to me, Khalid. We have to find her.” He jerked his cell phone from inside his jacket. “Contact Ian. I’ll call Cameron. Brockheim has her, and I want her found. Now.”

The velvety tune the singer was crooning to the room was one of Kia’s favorites. As she danced with her father, she wished she had found Chase, caught his eye, and had him break in. Now she couldn’t see him over the heads of the other dancers. Being short had a tendency to suck.

“You did a wonderful job, Kia,” her father complimented her. He smiled down at her as his pale blue eyes held that warm little twinkle they always got when he was looking at her or her mother.

“Thank you, Daddy.” She grinned back at him. “Not that I had a choice with you breathing over my shoulder for the past three months.”

Her father grunted at that. “Just wanted to make sure you didn’t need any help.” His eyes crinkled. “And you didn’t.”

“I had a good team,” she reminded him.

He nodded at that, then fell silent.

“Your mother says you’re in love with the Falladay boy,” he said at last with a teasing grin. “I thought you were taking us shopping with you when you went husband hunting.”

“Daddy, I haven’t gone husband hunting.”

He frowned. “It will be coming soon, though.”

“Daddy.” She kept her voice warning.

“Well, he loves you, you love him.”

“Daddy.” She narrowed her eyes. “I’m rather enjoying this dance, but I can walk away from it.”

He winced. “You’re being mean to me. Just like your mother. She walked out on my last dance. Somehow she thought I should keep my nose out of my daughter’s business.”

“And she’s right,” she told him. “At least for the moment.”

He was her father. She knew his hurt feelings wouldn’t last for long, no matter how angry he thought he might make her.

He grimaced. “Fine. I’ll back off. But I’m warning you now, I might be pouting at dinner on Christmas. A son-in-law like Falladay would make a fine Christmas present. Maybe next Christmas…”