And he wouldn’t do it through physical intimidation. Oh hell no, Khalid would use his sexuality, his experience, and a woman’s hunger to make damned sure she didn’t escape him until he was ready to let her go. And that terrified her almost as much as the intensity of her emotions did. Her body was in conflict with her mind, and it was craving more of Khalid.

The phone rang again. Turning to stare at the offending instrument, Marty waited until the answering machine clicked on.

“Marty, it’s Shayne.” The amusement in his tone had her frowning. “It seems Khalid’s upset with you, darling. Could you give him a call? I’m afraid he just might lose that legendary control of his soon if you don’t.”

Marty winced. Yes, Khalid’s patience was considered legendary.

“Come on, sweetheart, don’t make this harder on yourself than it has to be,” he finished, just before the recorder clicked off.

Great. Now Shayne. She should have listened to her instincts where he was concerned. He was simply too damned dominating.

She bit at a fingernail as she paced the living room floor, struggling with what she wanted to do versus the anger and fear rising inside her. What the hell had he done to her the night before? Hell, it was just sex. Right? It wasn’t as though he had grown two heads and tried to steal her soul. Well, he hadn’t grown two heads, she thought, with a weary sigh. But the stealing her soul part… she wasn’t too sure about that. Her entire body was too sensitive, as though being away from Khalid was putting her through some sort of withdrawal.

She wanted him again. Her pussy was wet, her breasts sensitive, her arms ached to hold him, her thighs tingled at the memory of the feel of him between them.

She almost scoffed at the idea of an addiction, but God, she just needed him. But she had needed him for years. The feelings raging through her were amplified from those that she had felt before he had taken her in that big bed of his. Before his release had spilled inside her. Before he had cleaned her with painstaking care afterward.

Why hadn’t she believed the rumors that Khalid rarely slept with a lover? That in most cases the members of the club who more often played the role of a third did so because the responsibilites, such as sleeping with their lovers, were the very responsibilities they shunned in a relationship.

She had needed that sense of intimacy, though. She had ached for it with the same strength that she had ached for his touch, his possession. The lack of it now left her struggling with both anger and pride.

The problem was, she had no idea how to do anything about it. The most she had managed to do was perhaps piss him off because she had left before he was ready for her to leave.

And there was no doubt that he was angry. She had refused to answer the phone all morning, but he had still called. Several times. His voice becoming darker and more brooding each time. At least she had some satisfaction from that. Slight though it may be.

The phone rang once again.

“Have you ever been spanked?” Khalid’s tone was dark, brooding. “Because I’m thinking that’s just what you need, baby. Pick up this damned phone, Marty. Now.” She stared at it as though it were a snake, coiled and hissing. The recorder clicked off as a surge of nervous energy began to race through her. If she stayed here, then there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that Khalid would be there soon. She would have to face him eventually, but she had hoped to get a handle on whatever the hell it was she was feeling, and to get over her anger, before dealing with the situation.

If she only knew what to do now. How did you make a man provide the intimacy needed when he clearly seemed against it?

The other part of this intimacy problem was the half-truths he had given her the night before. He had given her just enough to warn her that danger could be coming soon, but not enough to provide a clear picture why.

That complete truth, the intimacy of sharing more with her than simply what he had to, was obviously something he couldn’t give her.

She had chased after him since she was teenager. Now that she had made it into his bed she was learning that there was much more to seduction than she had ever imagined. She was going to have to figure out the rules before she went much further.

Unfortunately, she had the feeling her apartment wasn’t the best place to do so. Khalid owned the damned building. Grabbing her purse and the overnight tote she kept packed, Marty rushed from her apartment to the parking garage.

Her mother was still gone, but her father was home. She wouldn’t have to go into detail; she’d never had to when her emotions were like a cauldron ready to boil over. And when it came to Khalid, she imagined her father could be a font of information, if he wanted to be. Convincing him to give her just a few insights shouldn’t be too hard.

Her father had always understood. He would understand now.

Sliding into her black BMW, Marty started the engine and put the car into drive. Driving through the exit of the garage, she threw a wave at the security guard on duty.

As she drove past she noticed his hand reaching for the phone and rolled her eyes. No doubt he was informing Khalid that she was leaving her apartment. She’d noticed that Khalid had a rather strong habit of keeping tabs on everyone in his life. Not that he had many friends, but those he did have also seemed to revolve in the same sphere of social, personal, and business alliances as he did, which made it easier for him to do so. She had now become someone he felt the need to watch over.

She hadn’t needed a man’s protection since she had left her parents’ home. She didn’t need Khalid’s protection now. What she needed was far more important, something she was afraid she would never possess.

It was more than she had received last night, though. She just had to figure out how to get him to realize he wanted to give it to her. Then she had to figure out exactly how to handle it if he did.

The night before had been a revelation in many ways. From the second Shayne had walked into the Sinclairs’ library, Marty had sensed that her life was changing.

Something she had only been curious about before had bloomed inside her. And in Khalid’s eyes she had seen an affirmation that it was coming.

If she allowed this relationship to progress, then it would be far more than what they had shared the night before.

She felt a jolt of response at the thought of being the lover of two men. It had only been a distant curiosity for so many years, but the knowledge that it would happen if this continued suddenly had her wondering what it would mean to her own sexuality, and to the emotions she could feel torturing her now.

Over the years Marty had managed to get enough information to form a certain image of the club and the men she knew were a part of it.

Men who walked a certain dark edge, who found thrills in various forms of high-adrenaline lifestyles. Whether they were CEOs, leaders of countries, or agents of one of the world’s alphabet agencies, they all shared a common tie: a darkness and a sense of danger that they carried like an invisible shield.

The ring of the cell phone on the seat beside her had her heart racing again. Picking it up, she glanced at the number, fortified her courage, and flipped the phone open to answer it. “Leave me alone for now,” she ordered briskly, praying she sounded more determined than she truly was.

“You picked the perfect time to leave.” Shayne’s chuckle came through the line. “Khalid was on his way to your apartment as you pulled from the garage.”

“That’s what I pretty much figured,” she informed him. “I need some time.”

“You should have thought about that before you shared his bed last night.” Shayne’s tone became firmer. “What the hell is going on, Marty? You’re not some flighty kid. Why the hell are you running from him?”