“Yes.” She nodded, cleared her throat, and continued. “You’re a member?”

“I am. Wes was my sponsor membership. He provided my recommendation when I submitted an application a few years back. It’s also why I know the significance of your necklace. It’s a collar with his family crest. A claim that runs very deep for a dominant. He must really care about you to collar you.”

His words made her blush furiously, but she didn’t dare ask him more about how much Wes might care about her.

“So you’re a dom like Wes?” She couldn’t picture it. Vain had such an easygoing smile, none of the brooding seductiveness that Wes had, which frightened and excited her in all the right ways.

Vain grinned. “I am. But I keep that part of myself hidden. Wes loves to flaunt that side much more than me. I like my secrets to be kept secret.” He winked at her. An irresistible giggle escaped her.

“Well, I’ve bothered you enough for the evening. I wouldn’t want to make Wes jealous. Maybe I’ll see you at the club soon. I hear Wes is finally going to show off his Monet in a few days. You should ask Wes to bring you.”

“I don’t think he’d take me to the club.” Callie sighed. Wes had been closed-lipped about the Gilded Cuff, but her curiosity was piqued.

“He’s a dom. All you have to do is act real sweet and beg him. No dom would be able to resist a lovely woman like you if you begged.” Vain snickered. “I’d pay good money to see Wes refuse anything you asked. I bet he couldn’t say no.”

“Bet?” a new voice said, interrupting. Royce joined them. “Vain, you’d better not be corrupting Wes’s sweet little cowgirl.” He shook Vain’s hand and turned to face Callie. “Wes is looking for you, sweetheart. He’s ready to leave.”

“Thanks, Royce.” Callie said good-bye to Vain and started weaving through the crowd of people. Once she’d gotten out of the ballroom, she went in search of her coat. A butler had taken it to a library near the front door and hung it on a portable rack. The hall was empty and the sounds of the gala were muted now that the doors had closed again. She didn’t have too much trouble locating the library. The door had been cracked open, and gold light spilled out in a bright slim shaft through the opening. She caught a glimpse of books just beyond it.

Gripping her skirts in one hand, she nudged the heavy oak door open and slipped inside. The library was lit with several lamps on reading tables, making the room warm and welcoming. Two long metal coat racks were at the back of the library near the stone fireplace. Callie hunted for her coat, searching through the expensive furs and designer-label jackets. She nearly laughed as she remembered her own coat was an expensive black velvet wrap.

Suddenly a hand brushed against her waist and the hiss of an angry breath caressed her ear. The thick cloying scent of brandy was overpowering.

“So you’re Thorne’s flavor of the month?” a man sneered and jerked her back against his body.

“Let go of me!” Callie dropped her coat and rammed an elbow into the man’s stomach on pure instinct.

“Why you little…”

Pain exploded against the back of her head as fingers dug into her hair and jerked. A scream worked its way to her lips, but he clasped a hand around her throat, squeezing that cry for help into a strangled whimper.

“Shut up, we’re just gonna have a little talk,” the man growled while keeping pressure on her throat hard enough that her vision began to spot. The strong alcoholic fumes suggested he was drunk.

She dug her nails into his arm, trying to claw and scratch but as her lungs burned, panic took over.

“Here’s what I want to know. How come Thorne always gets everything I want? My jobs, my school, anything I wanted, he took from me. I should be the premier art expert in North America, not him. It should have been me.” His grip squeezed tighter and her hands dropped as all fight in her began to die. She couldn’t breathe. She expected her life to flash before her eyes, but all she saw was Wes. A distant roar of rage chased her into the fast approaching blackness.

Callie hit the floor with a thud and air rushed into her. The world came back into focus. She was lying on the library floor in a crumpled heap, throat sharp with pain. Raising herself up on her hands she saw Wes grappling with a man, the one who’d been choking her.

“Stonecypher, you piece of shit!” Wes snarled so viciously that Callie tensed. Cool, calm Wes was gone. In his place was a warrior, a bloodthirsty creature who scared her, but he was fighting for her. Wes threw a punch. The other man flew back, hitting a table and crashing to the ground. He groaned but didn’t rise. Wes’s predatory gaze stayed on the fallen man a second longer before he looked about the room. When he caught sight of her, he rushed over, his breathing hard as he bent and scooped her up in his arms.

“Oh darling,” he murmured. He pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes closing briefly. “Are you all right?”

She managed a nod, then winced at the stab of pain in her throat.

“Who was that?” She croaked out.

“Thomas Stonecypher. An old schoolmate. Not a friend.” Wes’s menacing glare frightened her enough that she trembled in his arms, even though she knew logically it had nothing to do with her. Stonecypher stayed limp on the floor.

“Is he dead?”

“No. I just knocked him out. He’s got a thick skull. He’ll just have a headache when he wakes up.”

“That’s a pity,” she grumbled. Painful shards dug into her throat and she rubbed it. Wes’s necklace had pressed into her skin and left dents in the shape of chain links. He noticed, and with a gentle touch, he removed the necklace and slipped it into his coat pocket before his fingers returned to her neck and massaged gently.

“Let’s go home.” Wes lifted her up but she pressed against his chest.

“I can walk. I don’t want anyone to see you carrying me.”

“Very well, but once we’re home, it’s my rules and I’m going to make sure you’re okay.” Wes wrapped an arm about her waist and escorted her to the front door. After he handed a valet his card, he helped Callie into her coat.

“He just squeezed my throat a little and yanked my hair.” Her hand touched her scalp and the flash of pain made her cringe. Yikes. That’s going to hurt tomorrow.

When she glanced up at Wes, his face was stony, his lovely blue eyes full of winter fire.

“I’m so sorry.” He kissed her lips and rubbed her back with his hands, warming her up.

“It’s not your fault. That man’s insane.”

“Thomas is…well, he’s always been the jealous type. We were friends as boys, but he didn’t have as keen an eye as I do for art and didn’t handle it when I came out on top. Not every man can handle being second. Thomas is one of them.”

Callie didn’t speak for several long moments. She wanted to change the subject.

“Did you tell everyone about the Monet like you planned?”

Wes sighed. “Yes. All the prominent members know, even Thomas.”

“What?” Callie froze. “He’s a dom at the club, too?” Something about that bothered her.

“He is. He doesn’t come that often. Usually when I’m out of town. We tend to avoid each other.”

Wes led her down the steps as the valet pulled up in Wes’s Hennessey Venom GT. He slipped the valet a twenty dollar bill and then opened Callie’s door for her.

“You don’t think he’s the art thief, do you?” Callie asked. It made sense. The man who was jealous of Wes was the one who could do the most damage. She buckled herself in and waited for Wes to get inside the car.

“I hadn’t considered that,” he admitted. “You think he might be?”

Callie shrugged and then ticked off the evidence on her fingers.

“He’s an art specialist like you, he has a serious jealous streak, he has all the same connections as you do, and he’s a dom at the club. Seems like he should be added to your list of suspects.”