Wicked Pleasure

Cam felt a chill run up his spine. He grew still, his head lowered, his eyes burning into the tile on the floor. That was it. That was where they were missing it.

“Moriah Brockheim stayed several weeks with them, didn’t she?” he mused, as he turned away from his brother, as though thinking.

“Yeah? Moriah’s clean, Cam. I ran her check myself.”

He turned back to Chase, and his eyes narrowed on his brother. “Run it again. When I went looking for Jaci at the party she was sneaking into Brockheim’s private study, and Moriah wasn’t in the buffet or ballroom.”

He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced back at the bedroom again. “They’re up to something.”

This was what he was good at. Unfortunately his head had been so filled with hunger and memories and a redheaded, stubborn woman, that he’d let that slip.

“Moriah’s clean, Cam,” Chase argued again, his voice impatient. “Hell, she’s so damned stiff, she’ll barely nod at the two of us, because of our reputations.”

“Then why was she meeting with Jaci secretly?” Cam asked him. “And why didn’t Moriah turn up as a contact to Jaci? Jaci spent a month in their cabin, supposedly alone, and had no other contact with the Brockheims. Yet, her familiarity with Moriah is close enough that the girl let her into her father’s private study? That doesn’t add up for me.”

Chase’s lips pursed thoughtfully as his eyes narrowed, then he nodded slowly. “I’ll handle that myself,” he told him. “Until then, we need to come up with a way to counter Richard and Annalee.”

Cam shook his head again. “They’re scared, and they got nowhere with Ian and Courtney. They’ll come after Jaci now.”

The minute he said the words, other details shifted together, slid into place, and he felt himself tighten with nearly violent rage.

The accidents: a mugging in England, faulty brakes in Italy, an attempted break-in of a hotel room in New York City. Too many coincidences and supposed accidents.

“I need the reports on those accidents again,” he bit out, causing Chase to stare back at him with dawning comprehension. “Full reports, including eyewitness accounts. Talk to Sebastian and Courtney about the mugging. They were there.”

“You think they’re trying to kill her?” Chase asked carefully. “Hell, they’d do a better job of it than this, Cam. They have the money and most likely the connections.”

“There’s also knowledge that there’s bad blood between them,” Cam reminded him. “Jaci’s played it cool. Her reputation is one of pure, honest, and restrained elegance. There aren’t even rumors of a lover, until me. She’s bested them with her silence, and she knows something. I’m betting its something big. But something she has no proof of. They couldn’t destroy her reputation, so they’re trying to take her out instead.”

“They would be using someone they know and trust,” Chase said. “Someone trying to be careful, to make certain they aren’t caught and that the Robertses aren’t implicated.”

Cam nodded slowly, but the rage was building inside him. He was tense, tight with the need to kill. He’d tried to leave the killer behind when he left Special Forces. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t give that darkness inside him an avenue like that ever again.

“We need cover on her, then.” Chase’s voice was tight, his expression savage. “She’s not exactly predictable when she decides she wants to do something.”

She had a bad habit of borrowing a car from Courtney or Ian and heading to the shops in town, or to other studios to consult with business associates on specific design areas. Keeping up with her was chancy at best.

“I’ll update Ian.”

Chase was the one to first glance toward the bedroom.

“Keep Courtney in the dark,” Cam warned, carefully unclenching his fists as he heard Jaci moving around in the bedroom. “Keep this quiet until we can get something. And get on the Brockheim girl. There’s something there, I just don’t know what yet.”

He could feel it now. As the pieces began to shift into focus and Jaci’s life began to form before his inner eye, he realized he didn’t want to know that she had been in trouble and hadn’t come to him.

Damn her, she knew he would protect her. She knew he would die before he would let anyone hurt her. And she hadn’t come to him, she hadn’t asked for his help. That wouldn’t happen again. He was going to tie her so close, so tight to his side, that she wouldn’t want to breathe without his help.

“You two look way too serious.” Jaci moved into the open rooms with a deliberately provocative sway, her tone amused, her eyes filled with warmth as she moved to Cam. “What are we doing for dinner? I’m starved.”

She reached up and kissed Cam quickly on the cheek, before looking between him and Chase with a frown. “No fighting tonight, either. One a day is enough.”

“He starts them,” Cam reminded her, more to distract her too-perceptive little mind than for any other reason.

“Don’t let him fool you,” Chase said. “You picked the wrong brother, Jaci. He’s like a bear with a sore paw, trying to hide the bruise.”

It was no more than the truth; but this time it wasn’t important.

“How about dinner at Carlyle’s?” Cam suggested. “Me, you, and Chase. Neither of us cook much more than TV dinners or cereal. We do great delivery, though.”

She sniffed at that as she pulled a bottle of water from the fridge and turned back to them.

Jaci saw the surprise that Chase barely hid, and imagined that perhaps this wasn’t the reaction he had expected out of Cam after his deliberate prod about the sore paw. It was a bit of a surprise to Jaci as well. Cam was usually more confrontational, less willing to allow his brother to get the last word in on any argument.

“Carlyle’s sounds good.” She nodded. “Do you think Ian and Courtney would want to join us? I have a few ideas I came up with while I was dressing. I’d like to discuss them with her.”

“I’m scared of you two in the same place. That’s like putting in an order for trouble, rather than just wishing for it,” Chase admitted, his voice amused, though Cam saw the cold, hard purpose in his brother’s eyes when he glanced at him.

Jaci was a piece of their past, their shared past. Chase cared for her, wanted her; but they both knew who she belonged to. In that one moment, one shared look, Cam could feel his brother’s determination to protect her as well.

“Scaredy cats,” she accused them with a laugh, as Chase turned back to her. “We’re just women. What could happen?”

“Mass confusion and heartbreak?” Chase suggested lightly as he pulled her against his side for a quick kiss to her forehead. “That’s okay though, we’re real men. We love danger. Don’t we, Cam?”

Cam felt more than rage burning in him now. Jaci wasn’t aware of it, but the moment Chase had pulled her into his arms she had softened, conformed to him for a just a second, before tensing and pushing out of his arms.

“Of course Cam loves danger,” she informed them both, her smile slightly nervous now. “He’s always trying to piss me off. That proves it.”

She wasn’t pissed off, she was aroused. Cam watched her carefully, aware of the knowledge in her eyes, knowledge of her own arousal, as well as his.

Chase chuckled at the statement. “I’ll call for the reservation, and let Ian and Courtney know before I shower. I’ll catch you both down here in an hour.”

Before moving around her to the stairs, Chase let his gaze linger on her. A heated, intense look that assured her exactly what his mind was lingering on.

Then she surprised both of them. Deliberately provocative, amused, and just a little playful, she pursed her lips in a silent kiss, before turning and moving quickly away from Cam with a laugh.

“If I’m going to Carlyle’s, then I need a dress and makeup,” she informed them both. “Hurry up, Chase, time’s awasting. I’ll be ready in an hour.” She turned back, glanced at both of them, and said, “And, boys, I am hungry.”

Chase knew exactly why Cam had chosen Carlyle’s. Invariably, if the Robertses were in town and there were no parties pending, they held court at Annalee’s maternal uncle’s restaurant.

He held back his concern after discussing it with Ian, but he had to admit that the return of Cam’s recklessness was starting to worry him.

He hadn’t been like this in years. Not since his return from the military, and when they started sharing their lovers. As though he needed an outlet, something to pour all that darkness into. And the wicked games they played with their women had provided that outlet.

Jaci, sweet, innocent Jaci, was holding out on the game, and it was pushing Cam. Chase could feel it. But he couldn’t blame Jaci, either. She wasn’t a woman who went to bed with one man that easily, so giving in to Cam’s more extreme desires would be harder for her.

She was fighting her curiosity, too. He and Cam could both see it, feel it. She was fighting for Cam, and though Chase gave her an A for effort, he didn’t hold out a lot of hope that his brother would ever willingly tell either of them what had happened all those years ago. As they moved through Carlyle’s—Chase moving ahead of them, with Jaci in the middle and Cam at her back—he noticed the knowing looks they received.

Ian’s club was safe, but there were a few of the members who were known for their sharing. Not a lot of them, but a few—those who willingly fronted for the club and drew attention away from the married members.

Ian’s ancestors had known gossip and society. They had learned the most effective way of hiding was in clear view. Give the greedy piranha’s something to latch onto and the others could slip by undetected.

Cam and Chase had no problems with others knowing who and what they were, to a point. They were members of Ian’s club, but they were also members of several other men’s clubs that were as staid and uptight as any ever created. Clubs based on wealth or position, and a clientele that benefited from the particular arena they fed off of. None of those clubs were based on sexuality. He and Cam avoided the sex-based clubs like a plague. They were counterproductive and just too much damned work.

“Ian, Courtney.” Chase nodded to them as the waiter showed them to the private table Chase had requested.

“And here I thought the night would be boring.” Courtney’s smile was all teeth as she glanced across the room to where Richard and Annalee Roberts were currently holding court at a long center table.

“You promised to be good, Courtney.” Ian glanced at her from the corner of his eyes, but Chase saw the carefully banked anger there.

He hadn’t been pleased with the information Chase had relayed to him, and Chase knew he would now be working to make certain that, no matter how Jaci’s relationship with Cam fared, the Robertses would never touch her again.

Ian didn’t need proof, all he needed was his own certainty with which to go to the punitive committee. He and Cam needed more, though. Protecting Jaci from not just the Robertses, but from herself. Because he was damned certain Cam was right: Jaci was trying to take care of this all on her own.

He glanced at Cam, then to Ian. That shared look assured him they were in agreement. It was time to neutralize the bastards. No one, but no one, attacked one of Ian’s employees, and especially a female employee. They were family. They were under his care. Under all their care.

Jaci watched the shared look between the three men, and glanced at Courtney. She was glaring at the Robertses, her gaze flickering back to them every few seconds before she would murmur a Spanish curse beneath her breath.

“What’s going on?” Jaci kept her voice low, but she felt Cam tense in the chair beside her, just as Chase did on the other side.