by Lora Leigh
Ian laughed at his question. "Only every time I try to explain to Courtney why she isn't allowed to enter the club. Let's hope her friend isn't nearly so stubborn." Ian clapped him on the shoulder as he moved through the doorway. "Come into the office, there's a few things I need you to look over."
They moved from the solarium dining room before heading up the hall to Ian's office. The offices were located farther along the residential wing, making them less accessible to guests or members—especially nosy members, such as Richard Roberts.
Congressman Roberts was a thorn in Ian's side, and that was becoming more irritating over the past year.
His wife had caught wind of the past gossip of the so-called "Trojans" club and had expended a great deal of effort in attempting to locate the club and the members. Evidently, she considered it her civic duty to reveal such depravity.
So far, any suspicion toward Ian and the little-known Sinclair club had been diverted, but several times Ian's security had caught the congressman attempting to slip into the area with one excuse or another.
Just as Annalee Roberts had attempted to subtly question Courtney and several other wives of suspected members. Thankfully, the gossip that had bloomed several years before had been downplayed and eventually drowned out. The wife of the member who had revealed the knowledge of it had learned exactly what she stood to lose, and rather than risking her place in society, she had simply divorced her husband.
Once Cam and Chase had completed the investigation into the incident, the person's membership in the club had been revoked and his yearly security deposit forfeited. He was lucky he still had his job and his good name. The man had been a bastard.
"Roberts is making waves again," Ian announced, as he closed the office door behind them. "Several club members have contacted me this morning with the information that he's attempting to have Ms.
Wright ostracized from the parties Courtney's had her invited to. Are you any closer to finding out what the hell is going on there?"
Irritation echoed in Ian's voice, glittered in his eyes.
Cam grimaced at the question. "She's not talking, but I warned you she wouldn't. No one else is talking, either. Evidently, she's chosen her friends very wisely, or, as I suspect, she's not told anyone what happened."
"Why? Her silence indicates guilt, Cam. She has an excellent reputation from that job on, but the rumor of attempted theft and an adulterous affair is making a few members rather nervous."
Cam shrugged. "They signed off on the project as well as the designer. They aren't allowed to bitch.
They had all the information, innuendoes, and accusations at that time. Getting nervous now isn't acceptable."
Ian arched his brow. "We're talking about the same members here, right? Just because they signed off on it doesn't mean they aren't going to bitch. Some of those men worry worse than women."
Cam's lips quirked at the accusation.
"Has Roberts managed to have any of the invitations canceled?" Cam asked.
"Not yet." Ian moved across the room, his leanly muscled body tense with irritation. He moved behind his desk and threw himself into the expensive leather chair behind it, glowering back at Cam. "Roberts is pissing me off, Cam. I want to know why Ms. Wright has been targeted, so we can make moves to defend her position. Courtney's worried, and when she's worried she doesn't sleep well."
Which meant Ian didn't sleep well. Cam restrained his smile.
"I'm working on it, Ian. Getting information without her help isn't easy, though. The congressman and his wife protect their own privacy just as rigorously. So far, all we have are a few innuendoes of dirty games, but no definite reports."
Ian slouched back thoughtfully, an elbow resting on the arm of his chair as he scratched at his cheek.
"What kind of dirty games?"
Cam shook his head. "We're working on it, Ian."
They needed that information. Congressman Roberts had targeted Ian nearly a year before, when his application into the Sinclair men's club had been rejected.
The club was known in a very small circle of men. It wasn't hidden, they didn't try for complete secrecy of anything except the reason for it. Which meant there were a lot of applications rejected for one reason or the other. And a lot of resentment.
"We could put his name before the judiciary committee," Cam suggested, not for the first time.
The judiciary committee of the club was a twelve-member table that decided if anyone inside or outside the club required punitive measures. Those punitive measures could destroy a business, an individual, or a group. The combined force of the club members almost always followed the committee's decisions.
"Not yet." Ian shook his head. "I prefer we only use the committee when the secrecy of the membership or our charters are in jeopardy, Cam, you know that."
"They could become jeopardized if Roberts and his wife continue this," Cam pointed out.
Ian straightened and leaned forward in his chair. "I want proof," he stated. "I want to know why they've targeted Ms. Wright. Then I can go to the committee. She's your woman; you've already stated that in the proposal for her work here, in defense of the accusations made against her. You took responsibility for her. Find out why her reputation is being targeted, and we can take that to the committee. Otherwise, we're S-O-L."
Shit out of luck. That just about described it.
"Ever try to make Courtney tell you something she doesn't want you to know?" Cam asked him.
At that, Ian smiled. "I have my ways of learning her secrets, Cam. Find out what works with Ms.
Wright. If she belongs to you, then we can defend her and take care of the threat Roberts represents at the same time. The club has its rules, its checks and balances, for a reason. Find out what he did to her, then we can neutralize his threat to the club before it becomes valid."
And that was imperative. Part of Cam and Chase's job was identifying threats before they became a problem, and finding ways to neutralize them before the committee became involved; because, if they became involved, then the punitive measures could affect more than the person threatening the club. As Cam had told Jaci, it could affect every relation, every friend, every area of a person's life. The committee didn't always show mercy.
"It's an issue of trust, Cam," Ian finally said, his expression lightening as he leaned back in his chair.
"She doesn't trust you."
Cam stared back at him for long, silent moments.
"What the hell do you mean, she doesn't trust me? I'd kill for her, and she knows it."
That made zero sense. Jaci knew he would protect her against anything, didn't she?
"You said it yourself. It's been seven years since you've seen her. Seven years is a long time. A lot of hurt and sometimes a lot of pain. She's not going to give you what we need without trust."
Cam rubbed at the back of his neck, grimacing heavily. "There's no reason for her not to trust me, and she knows it."
Ian shook his head, a smile quirking his lips. "Let me guess, you've gone after her the same way you go after everything. Direct. To the point. Stating your demands and expecting her to fall in with them."
"I'm not that bad."
"Worse." Ian laughed. "Talk to your brother, Cam, he knows how to make a woman give what he needs.
Maybe you should learn."
"I haven't had any trouble getting Jaci," he growled in disgust. "What the hell are you getting at?"
At that, Ian shook his head slowly. "Getting a woman's body and getting her heart are two different things. And gaining her trust is another problem entirely. You, my friend, are about to learn that the hard way."
And if Ian's expression was any indication, he was going to enjoy the hell out of watching it.
10
"You're angry." Courtney led the way into the large sitting room of her suite and glanced at Jaci over her shoulder as Jaci was closing the door carefully behind them.
Jaci turned and watched as Courtney drew a bottle of wine from the minifridge and gathered two glasses.
"Has Ian shared you with Cam?"
The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. Jaci clenched her teeth and stood by them, though. She wasn't going to apologize for the question. So she crossed her arms over her breasts and stared firmly back at her friend.
Courtney rolled her eyes. "Really, Jaci, do you think I'd allow something such as that? I've known from the beginning what Cam was to you. I would never overstep those bounds. No matter how luscious he is." She winked shamelessly.
And Courtney wouldn't lie to her about it. Jaci knew that her friend, despite her often careless attitude, had a streak of honesty within her a mile wide. She might talk around a subject, she might lie shamelessly to her enemies, but with a friend, she was scrupulously honest.
"Come on, let's relax a bit," Courtney ordered, her voice firm as she plopped down on the couch, glasses and wine in hand. "I'll explain all the complex little rules of the world you've suddenly found yourself in.
It's really quite unique and interesting."
Jaci sat down, accepted the wine, and watched Courtney warily. "Do I really want to hear this?"
"Of course you do." Courtney laughed. "Just imagine, Jaci, a group of men whose main focus, whose only thoughts are not just the pleasure but the protection of their women. In exchange for the greatest pleasure a woman can ever receive, by allowing their husbands, their lovers, a single sexual desire, whether they know it or not, they've gained the protection of hundreds. It's really pretty amazing, wouldn't you think?"
"It's really pretty far-fetched."
"But it isn't, Jaci. They have rules. Clear rules. And breaking those rules comes with quick, decisive punitive actions. Complete faithfulness, just to begin with. The men share their women, but those women never have to fear sharing their lovers or husbands, as long as they're with them. Spousal abuse is not allowed, and God forbid if one of those members should abuse his child. They protect their own and they punish their own, and the main reason for the club's existence is that protection. To provide a base of trustworthy men, single men who share the same needs, who understand the code the club was formed upon. A base of protection for themselves and their women. A place to come together with those who understand, and who can be trusted. The club has existed without detection for two hundred years because of that code, and because of the security they enact themselves. For our sakes. It really isn't so bad, being claimed by a member of the club."
"I won't be claimed."
"But my dear, Cam has already taken care of that. Already, members are contacting Ian, the whispers of the Robertses' campaign is drawing concern from them. They're ready to act in your favor, to protect you and to protect Cameron. It's too late to worry about being claimed, Jaci. That claiming is what allowed Ian to make certain you did get the job, despite the accusations the Robertses have spread against you."
Jaci lifted the wineglass to her lips and drained it before extending it for a refill. She didn't bother to reply until she had drained that one as well.
Maybe she needed something stronger than wine.
"Courtney, have you considered that perhaps this code you think the club runs by is no more than a thinly veiled illusion? Where's the honor, when a man expects his wife to take another man to their bed?" But she knew better, she knew Cam's hunger—trying to understand what drove it was making her insane, though.
Courtney eased herself deeper into the corner of the couch and drew her legs beneath her.
"There's honor in a pleasure so extreme, so all-consuming that a woman is left so completely sated she can barely move. Ian chose our third very carefully, Jaci. A man he knew was no risk to the emotional bond we share, one he knew would protect me, should anything happen when he wasn't around."
"And when that third decides to find his own lover or wife?" Jaci asked in disbelief. "What then, Courtney?"
"Then Ian and I will decide if another third is required or not." Courtney sipped at her wine. Jaci downed another half glass.
"Does he . . ." She waved her hand as she flushed in embarrassment. "Is he bisexual?"
Courtney's eyes rounded before a burst of laughter escaped her. "Do you think Ian's bisexual, Jaci?"
No, she had to admit he didn't.
"God, I'm going to lose my mind on this job." She shook her head and held out the wineglass. "You could have warned me. I hate you for not warning me, Courtney. I'm going to hate you forever for not warning me." Of course, she really wouldn't . . . maybe.
"Oh, really? Would you have believed me?" Courtney waved the accusation away.
Jaci had to admit, it would have been hard to swallow, but she would have believed it.
"You should have warned me," she said again. "You don't know what I'm facing here, Courtney. Dealing with the Robertses will be bad enough, but now Cam's determined to get answers. Fighting them both is going to be hell."
"Why not just tell Cam the truth? Come on, Jaci, let him protect you. Let the club protect you. This is why it was created, why it still thrives. Your reputation is beyond reproach, as far as they're concerned.
But they can't protect you without knowing what they're protecting you from."
Jaci shook her head. She wished she could tell Courtney. Sometimes the need to share the horror of that night was like an acid inside her soul. And the only person who knew couldn't allow herself to be associated with Jaci. If she did, then the plan they had put together would never work.
"Why do you hold their secrets, Jaci?" Courtney asked quietly, referring to the Robertses.
Jaci breathed out roughly. "How far can I trust you, Courtney?"
Courtney watched her, compassion filling her eyes. She sighed heavily.
"Don't tell me what happened, or I'll have to tell Ian. I can't hide that from him, because I'm as bound by the club rules as he is. But anything else, that stays between us."
"Anyone who knows Cam, even years ago, knew he always kept his word. Whether it was a promise or a threat."
"His reputation still stands, then." Courtney nodded.
"He swore he'd kill any man who hurt me," she whispered. "He made it a warning and a vow, Courtney.
And there will be nothing I can do to stop him if he decides it's deserved. I won't be responsible for it.
This isn't his fight."
"Have you ever told anyone what happened?" she asked.
Jaci's laugh was bitter. "The first month, someone I believed was a friend came very close to knowing. I found out he was a very close friend of the Robertses. And he believed everything they said about me."
She shrugged. "They beat me to the punch. Their lies came before I could ever tell the truth. Now I would look like a liar, covering my own ass, and Cam would do something incredibly male and incredibly stupid because he made a promise. I won't allow that."
"And his need to share you with Chase?" Courtney asked. "That's not why you're fighting a relationship with him, is it Jaci?"
She shook her head. "I came here determined to do this job, to face the Robertses and win. Then I was going to find Cam. But I can't deal with both issues at once. I won't deal with it. After the job is finished, after the Robertses realize that striking out at me is a wasted effort, maybe then I can see where this can go."
Courtney shook her head at that. "Cam won't wait on that, Jaci."
She finished her wine and sat the glass on the table before turning back to her friend. "He doesn't have a choice."
And to that, Courtney smiled. A slow, amused, sympathetic smile. "I think you're going to learn, my friend, that it's you who won't have a choice. Once a club member has chosen his woman, they rarely go back on that vow. Ian knows of only one, in the entire history of the club, to do so, and I promise you, he's regretting it each second of his life. Cam won't wait. And I don't think you want him to."
Her friend's eyes twink
led. "And some men do have some interesting ways of making certain that the word 'no' never passes a lady's lips again."
She was not going to ask. She was not going to ask. She didn't want to know what those ways were, or why Courtney looked so deliciously lost in thought over them.
"How did I know this job was going to make me insane?" She leaned forward, lifted her glass from the table, and held it out to Courtney once again. A refill. Just a little bit more false courage. "Anytime you're near, everything goes crazy."
"I know." Courtney smiled with smug satisfaction. "That's why I'm so much fun to be around."
"We might need another bottle after that comment."
Courtney laughed softly. "So, you'll be at the party tonight?" she asked, pouring Jaci another small measure of the fruity wine.
At that question, Jaci smiled. This time, it was her smile that caused concern to flicker in Courtney's eyes.
"I'll be there," she drawled.
"With Cam?"
"Only if he arrives at the same time I do." She toasted her friend with her glass. "And I wouldn't bet on that happening, Courtney. I really wouldn't."
She may have no choice but to attend the party, but Cam was going to find out that she didn't do orders very well at all. If he had claimed her, well, he could just learn what claiming her very well meant.
One of her greatest fears was being overwhelmed by his dominance and his sexuality. She had always feared she couldn't stand up to him, couldn't deny him. She was going to have to prove to herself and to him that she could. And she was going to have it do it at the same time that she was battling her nemesis.
Damn, why hadn't she just called Cam to begin with five years ago and let him wipe the floor with Roberts and have it done with? At that time, Cam might have restrained himself to beating the hell out of the other man, rather than killing him.
But she was afraid, very afraid, that after all this time, after all they had done to attempt to destroy her, Cam just might kill him after all.