Ian’s lips quirked at the thought.

“Do that and she would get in or die trying,” he growled, as he rubbed at the tension in his neck. “We’ll leave Matthew in charge for now. I’ll handle her if she actually manages to get back in. She’s not so much a security concern as she is one for the peace of mind. That woman would drive a saint to curse.”

Cam chuckled at that. “She’s a wild one all right. There’s no way she would get along with the other six if she weren’t.”

Ian shook his head at the thought. Yes, she was wild, as untamed as any woman he had ever known. But so fucking innocent it made him want to scream in denial.

“If that’s all, I’ll get back to the fun stuff.” Cam rose to his feet, staring back at Ian in amusement. “Armitage is having a nice little party at his ranch this weekend. I managed to get an invitation to accompany one of the guests. I’ll see what pans out there before giving my final report.”

Ian watched Cameron turn and leave the room, closing his eyes as the door closed behind the other man.

It had been three days since he had allowed her in his bed. He had expected to be uncomfortable, unable to sleep with her curled around him like a damned kitten. Instead, he was sleeping better than he had in…longer than he could remember.

Her response to him was never-ending. Adventurous, as wild as the wind and willing to try any position, any sex toy he used on her. The hours spent pleasuring her was ecstasy and hell in the same heartbeat.

Ecstasy, because she met him stroke for stroke, relishing in every touch, every adventure they entered. And hell because he knew he couldn’t take that final step.

Rising from his chair in a rush of energy, he paced to the windows, staring into the garden as he pushed his hands into the pockets of his slacks. No matter how often he took her, or how, that edge of innocence she possessed remained. It was an added turn-on, almost addictive to see the shocking pleasure in her rapt expression. And still, the lust burned. It burned to the point that no matter how many times he took her, he still craved her. And she still met him with a hunger of her own.

And each time the need to share her grew.

Even his dreams tormented him. Dreams of seeing her, pressed between him and Khalid, blindfolded, restrained, helpless against each touch, each stroke of her body as she begged for more. Screamed. Pleaded… His cock jerked fiercely at the image as a strangled groan left his throat.

Because the ending of those dreams were always the same. Courtney lying in his bed, her eyes staring sightlessly at the ceiling, the damned note Melissa had written so many years ago by her side. The haunting image had his gut clenching in fear even as his balls tightened in hunger. Damn her, she had him torn in so many different directions he didn’t know which way to turn anymore.

Damn, what was it about her? He shook his head as he turned and moved back to his chair before throwing himself in it. He propped his elbows on the desk and ran his fingers through his hair before gripping the back of his neck tightly.

She thought she loved him. Innocent dreams and sexual heat shimmered in her eyes every time she looked at him. He should have called Dane the minute he saw that he wouldn’t be able to deny her. The other man would have been furious, he would have made certain Courtney was never in Ian’s company again, but the friendship would have survived, and in a few years, Courtney would have gotten over her infatuation.

Instead, he had broken.

A muttered curse left his lips, because despite knowing they were both going to hurt, that the relationship he had shared with her and her family was now forever scarred, he couldn’t stop. The more he had her, the more he craved her touch, the more he craved, period.

“Now you look like a man approaching the end of his control…”

The dark amusement in the accented voice had Ian’s head rising, his eyes narrowing as Khalid stepped into the room.

The half-Saudi sauntered across the room, his dark face creased in a mocking smile as he took the chair Cam had recently vacated.

“You look tired, Ian,” he snickered. “Too many late nights?”

Ian grunted at the suggestion before straightening back in his chair.

“What can I help you with, Khalid?”

Khalid chuckled, his dark eyes filled with amusement.

“Nothing much.” Broad shoulders shrugged lazily. “I saw Courtney with the Sexy Six an hour or so ago, and thought I would warn you that there was a definite air of conspiracy at their table. I do believe, my friend, they are plotting against you.”

Ian sighed roughly. “They are always plotting against me,” he growled. “They were born to torture and torment men, Khalid. Pray you don’t come within their sights in this lifetime.”

Khalid’s laughter was filled with a bit more anticipation than made Ian comfortable.

“They are an imaginative lot, my friend.” His teeth flashed against his dark skin as his eyes filled with laughter. “A man could only be so lucky as to have such women plotting for his future.”

Ian groaned silently.

“What the hell do you want, Khalid? You may live a life of ease, but I, unfortunately, need to work to keep things going here.”

“Ah yes.” Khalid nodded. “Tracking stocks, merging companies, maneuvering political factions and such is a great hardship.”

Ian could only shake his head. The other man was evidently conspiring with Courtney and Tally’s crew to drive him insane. He leaned back in his chair, staring back at his friend broodingly as he rested his arms against the padded rests of the chair. He might as well become comfortable.

Khalid grimaced at the obvious air of patronizing patience.

“Very well.” He shrugged as though whatever game he was attempting had lost its fascination. “Have you chosen your third yet?”

It was expected. Ian had known that eventually one of The Club’s members, most likely Khalid, would question the fact that thus far, no one had been invited into the relationship he shared with Courtney.

Tension tightened his body as he fought the need to do just as was expected of him. He was…whatever the hell he was, he sighed wearily.

“There will be no third, Khalid.”

The announcement had the other man’s expression going blank in shock.

“No third?” He shook his head, his shaggy black hair rippling about his shoulders. “I don’t understand, Ian.” He stared back at Ian as though he feared he were having problems with his more than excellent grasp of English.

“You understand perfectly.” He throttled the anger building in his gut. “There will be no third. Courtney will tire of this game soon and realize it’s no more than infatuation, curiosity. When she does…” He swallowed back his bitterness. “When she does, there will be nothing for her to regret.”

Khalid’s eyes narrowed, suspicion flaring.

“Ahh, I see,” he intoned softly, regret flashing in his eyes as he rose to his feet then. “Should you change your mind, my friend, I hope you would consider my request that I be your third.”

“I won’t be changing my mind.”

Khalid’s lips quirked at the announcement, as though amused by the statement.

“Very well. I will not keep you then.” He nodded respectfully. “I wish you a very productive day, Ian. Should you need me, you know I am at your disposal.”

“You as well, Khalid.” Ian stood to his feet, watching as the other man left the room, closing the door gently behind him.

“Fuck!” He cursed fiercely as he threw himself back in his chair, wiping his hands over his face as he stared up at the ceiling.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t the white ceiling he saw. It was Courtney, her head thrown back in pleasure, her lips opened in a scream of release as he and Khalid pushed her past the boundaries of any pleasure she could have conceived.

He could feel the need for it, searing his senses, fueling his frustration, his hunger. He could only pray he could manage to hold onto his control until she came to her senses.

Unfortunately, he had a feeling that coming to his senses was going to be his greatest hurdle.

Khalid stepped into the back of his limo, barely giving the chauffeur-bodyguard a chance to close the door before he hit the speed dial on his cell phone.

“Yes, darling.” Tally’s smooth, amused voice came through with questioning emphasis.

She was a lively one, he had to give her that. She had yet to focus one of her torturous matchmaking schemes his way, but he was enjoying being part of the conspiracy. It was much less nerve-racking than being the one conspired against.

“He says he has no intention of taking a third,” he relayed the information, keeping his voice free of the amusement that curled his lips. “I do believe the shadows of Melissa haunt this little scheme of yours, sweetheart.”

She was silent, obviously weighing his analysis.

No one ever spoke of Ian’s past, but most of The Club’s members were well aware of it. The membership was a close support network, many of them had known each other since young adulthood, gravitating to The Club with the advice of their fathers, several of whom were members as well at that time.

Melissa Gaines had, quite honestly, been a nutcase. Ian had adored her though, the zealous infatuation of young manhood transferring to the woman he believed was his perfect match.

“Suggestions?” Not that Tally needed any, but he knew she was thinking. He wished he was there to watch the process. The few times he had watched her plot, it had been a masterpiece of skillful, dark design. She would have made an excellent ruler.

Khalid grinned as he thought of Courtney then. She was younger than Tally, but rapidly gaining her own ground in the feminine arts.

“I am but a man,” he sighed morosely, mockingly. “Who am I, my dear, to opinionate on the grand designs of such feminine works?”

Besides, it was so much fun to watch these women as they plotted and planned. The sight of it was amusing as well as vastly educational.

“In other words, you’re keeping your ass out of the fire.” Tally snorted. “Fine. See if I show any mercy when I find your weak spot.”

“But Tally, sweetest, I am such a simple man. My weak spots lay bare to your gaze. Go gently with me.” He leaned back in the butter-soft leather of the seat and let satisfaction fill him.

Of course, they both knew the game. He had no intention of allowing her to find his weak spots. Such folly could break a man.

“Yeah, you know I will,” she drawled. He expected nothing less than complete mercilessness where she was concerned. “Thanks for the information, Khalid. I’m certain we can find a way to use it.”

“I have no doubt, my dear.” He disconnected the call before pocketing the cell phone and staring at the dark glass that separated him from his driver. A frown tightened his brow.

Ian was, of course, in love with the little spitfire-in-training, Courtney. It had been so readily apparent that he had nearly felt sorry for the other man. How horrible to love so deeply, and to be so very unaware of the exact nature of the torment that raged inside him.

Considering the job Melissa Gaines had done on Ian years before, though, one could forgive him for his denial now. At least for a short time.

Khalid sighed in self-satisfaction as a smile tipped his lips. Poor man. Better to love many, than to love one. In that, at least, there was always consolation should a relationship fall through.

He had no doubt Courtney would prevail. Ian was quickly reaching the end of his patience, and his control. Soon, it would happen. And when it did, Khalid intended to be there. There were few women who would present a challenge such as the one Courtney would present when the final game played out.

Despite her love of the pleasure, of Ian’s touch, she would fight the ultimate dominance, the complete submission of her senses to the two of them. And that instinctive fight, the delicate, subtle precision of undermining her defenses would be a joy to be part of.