"Yeah, you proved how much you don't enjoy living the minute you let Jennings pull you into his little games," Ian said with a hint of mocking disgust. "I thought you knew better."
Khalid hid a smile. Ian and Zach Jennings rarely saw eye-to-eye over what Ian described as Zach's unconscionable use of knowledge and information that came through the club. More than once Ian had actually protested when the FBI director had managed to pull a club member into an operation. The reason Jennings got away with it was the fact that, so far, no one had been placed in any true danger.
"I appreciate it, Ian." Khalid rose from his seat as he finished his drink. "I better return to the party. Marty should be arriving soon."
"And Courtney will kick my ass if I hide in here all night." Blowing out a hard sigh Ian rose from his chair, a flash of irritation gleaming in his eyes.
"She'll kick both our asses," Khalid reminded him with a grin. "She's not the nice, tamable sort that used to be your norm, my friend."
"That she's definitely not." Laughter replaced the irritation as they left the study and headed for the ballroom. "And that is what makes life with Courtney so damned much fun."
The sprite made everyone around her laugh, Khalid thought as he re-entered the ballroom and spotted Marty on the other side of the room.
Sensation slammed into his gut, heated his insides and had his c**k thickening immediately.
Damn her, she could do to him what no other woman could. Make him helpless against his desire for her.
"Mr. Mustafa, Mr. Sinclair sent you a drink." A waiter stepped in front of him, drink in hand.
Giving it to Khalid, the waiter moved away. Khalid lifted it to his lips, paused, and swore he would lose his breath as he watched Marty turn, caught her profile, and the smile that curled her lips as she and Shayne stood amid a crowd of her friends.
She was a beacon of light in the darkness, her dark blond hair pulled back from her face and glittering with sapphires. The short dress she wore was sapphire silk, riding high on her thighs and paired with heels matching in color that lifted her height enough to nearly match Shayne's.
Her sleek feminine curves were made even more sensual by the dress and heels. Her shoulders were all but bare, her br**sts full and pressing temptingly against the material covering them.
Shayne stood at her side, his hand resting low on her back, his fingers splayed against her lower back with a hint of possessiveness.
Khalid hid his smile. Shayne did want to play house for a while, and in his estimation his relationship with Khalid and Marty would allow that.
Well, it was always best to let a man learn the hard way that such schemes weren't going to pan out. Marty's heart was his, Khalid knew, just as Shayne did. There was no jealousy required, but that didn't mean Khalid wouldn't silently put the other man in his place when needed.
"I can feel the dagger in my back," Shayne whispered in Marty's ear as she lifted the champagne glass to her lips while half-listening to a school friend recount her latest trip to the Bahamas.
Ignoring Shayne's laughing comment, she focused instead on a conversation she really didn't give a damn about, just to prove, incorrectly, that she really didn't give a damn. She wasn't in the least amused that Khalid had had Shayne pick her up for the ball rather than picking her up himself. When he had called and asked her to accompany him tonight, she had cautiously accepted, interested to see where he was going with this. He was up to something. She could feel it. And she wanted to know what the hell it was.
"Andrew's yacht is simply exquisite," Tanya was exclaiming, as Marty felt Shayne's hand press more firmly against her lower back in warning. "And Andrew does know how to throw a party. You should join us next month, Martha. It's so much fun."
She was going to gag. Martha. In all the years Marty had known Tanya, she had never had the good grace to use the nickname Marty's mother had declared Marty would be called by when she was a baby.
Martha was her grandmother's name. She'd been named Martha to fulfill her grandmother's dying wish, and Marty was proud to own it. But her name was Marty. She had been Marty all her life, and she didn't like Tanya's pompous little voice sneering out her given name instead.
"I'm sure it's just megawonderful, Tannie," Marty cooed back at her. "But I think I might have to work. You know how it is. Have to make the rent money."
Tanya's eyes widened, though she never for a second caught the small slur Marty had sent her way.
"Dear, I'm certain your trust fund could cover you," Tanya drawled with self-important sobriety. "After all, I do know your grandmother left you rather well off, even if your parents aren't inclined to do so."
Marty gritted her teeth. Her parents had taught her a strong work ethic--something that was uncommon among the glittering trust-fund babies and silver-spoon angels she had grown up with.
People like Tanya didn't realize the work that had gone into the fortunes they now lived off and rarely contributed to.
"And I still prefer to pay my own expenses." Marty's eyes rounded mockingly. "Go figure."
Tanya blinked back at her before turning to her husband, as though in confusion. The husband, an executive with Tanya's father's engineering firm, hid a smile.
"She's an aberration, sweetheart." Her husband, Mike Collie, sighed, as though he, too, was confused by Marty. "Remember how we used to pat her on the head when we were children and pray for her before sleeping?"
Tanya glanced back at her sympathetically.
"Yes, and now, Mike, I pray for you," Marty stated sweetly, as he chuckled back at her, clearly unoffended by her remark.
"And I appreciate each prayer, my dear." His blue eyes gleamed with amusement. He was one of the good ones. They were few and far between sometimes.
As pompous and arrogant as some of her childhood friends may be, most of them still had a sense of humor where it counted.
"Excuse me, I need to find my father for a moment," Marty said when she glanced to the side and saw that Khalid had managed to pry himself away from a small group of men who had delayed him and he was now trying to make his way across the room.
Perfect timing, she thought. No one made it through this crowd quickly, which gave her a few more moments before he got to her. Keeping Khalid carefully in her peripheral vision as she hid her smirk at the frustration on his face, Marty and Shayne made their way to where Joe and Zach stood along with Ian Sinclair, and the owners of Delacourte-Conovers, a rising electronics development and manufacturing firm in the area. The Delacourtes and Conovers were heavy contributors to her father's political funds, as well as friends.