Read Wilde Nights in Paradise (A Wilde Security Novel) (Entangled Brazen) Online

Authors: Tonya Burrows

Tags: #humor, #contemporary, #brazen, #sex, #romance, #erotic, #entangled, #military, #sexy, #tonya burrows, #hornet, #seal of honor

Wilde Nights in Paradise (A Wilde Security Novel) (Entangled Brazen) (14 page)

But, no, that was ridiculous. Foolish, even. Jude’s insanity must be contagious.

She poked him in the ribs and smiled when he grumbled.

“Jude, we need to get moving. I don’t want to be out here after dark.”

Cracking open one eyelid, he glanced around. “Aw, fuck. You’re right.” He stretched, yawned. “Hot, mind-blowing sex makes me sleepy.”

Libby ignored the flush warming her neck and cheeks. “Will they send someone looking for us if we don’t get back to the rental place soon?”

“Probably. But how about we meet them halfway?” After another contented stretch, he instructed, “Sit up and turn around. Slowly. I’d rather you didn’t dump us with that shark swimming over there.”

Her heart jumped into her throat. “What shark?”

“Ha. Gotcha.”

She slapped his chest. “You’re an idiot, and you’ll pay for that. Now I hear the
Jaws
theme playing in my head.”

Standing up on the board with an easy grace she envied, he scooped up paddle. “So. You want to give it a try this time?”

“Yes,” she said on impulse. “I’d like that.”

He flashed one of his brilliant grins and held out a hand to help her up. The board wobbled under her feet, but it was quite a bit easier to stand on it than she would have expected. Jude gave her the paddle and with his hands on her waist, turned her around to face forward. His breath whispered over her ear as he explained the basics of how to move the board, sending shivers down her spine. It took a couple tries to get the hang of it, but then they were sailing smoothly forward. The underused muscles in her arms and torso ached with each pull of the paddle, but it was the delicious kind of ache, warm and heady, much like sex with Jude.

“You got it,” he said and nuzzled her earlobe. He still hadn’t removed his hands from her waist, and in that moment, with the sun turning to rust and sinking toward the horizon, the wind tangling her hair and his warm, solid weight pressed to her back…in that moment, she hoped he never let go of her.

More foolishness, she told herself and concentrated on making the board go straight.

Jude Wilde didn’t hang on to anything for long.

Chapter Nineteen

Jude was in an excellent mood. A day of playing tourist, soaking in the sun and natural beauty of the Keys, followed by sex…

Oh, man, the sex. The off-the-charts-hot sex.

It was all exactly what he’d needed and he suspected, what Libby had needed, too—although he bet she’d never admit it.

He smiled to himself and spared a glance for her, sound asleep in the passenger seat, her cheek pillowed in her hand against the window. Her hair had frizzed from their swim and the soaking they got from an evening storm as they raced across the marina parking lot for their car. He resisted the urge to reach over and soothe down the sun-kissed locks. Made himself focus on the road, but found his hand wandering from the steering wheel to rest on her thigh. She stirred but didn’t wake, and he smiled again.

Now the rain tap-danced on the roof of the convertible and lightning zigzagged in the distance over the ocean as the car sailed the Overseas Highway toward home.

Jude felt better than he had in days. Sure, his back was sunburned all to hell—damn Libby for being right about the sunscreen—but even that discomfort couldn’t put a damper on his mood.

Damn near perfect day.

He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this light, this free. He could become addicted to this. To her. Maybe he already was.

Unable to resist, he sneaked another peek her way. Deep in sleep, she looked completely at peace—no worry lines etched into her forehead, no trace of the sour grapes pinched expression around her mouth. She needed to sleep more, work less, and play more, he decided and then snorted as he imagined her response to that suggestion. But someone had to apply the brakes on the race car that was Elizabeth Pruitt or she was going to burn out her engine. After this was all over, he’d talk her into a worry-free day like today at least once a week. She carried way too much stress and—

Whoa. What? After this was over? Goddammit, he was an idiot for even considering an “after” with her. No chance. Hadn’t she told him as much the night she started their affair?

It was sex. No emotions. No strings attached. No after. And he’d gone along with it because he was just desperate enough to be with her that he’d take her any way he could. Except an affair had never been what he wanted when it came to Libby. He’d loved her and had wanted the whole package the night he proposed eight years ago. Libby in a white dress, vowing to stay with him forever. Her pregnant with his two-point-five children. The quaint house with the white picket fence, dog, and minivan.

Loved? No, he was lying to himself. Love, present tense. It was still there, strong as ever, just like their ring in his pocket. But he’d be damned before he told her. She wouldn’t accept those words from him anyway. He’d hurt her too badly, which had been his goal, and he’d done a bang-up job of it. Hurt her to protect her. Wasn’t he just noble as fuck?

Uh-uh. And after this was over, she would go back to her life and he to his. That would be the end of it. He just wasn’t sure if he’d be able to glue the pieces of his life back together again once she was gone.

Far less cheerful than he had been moments before, he lifted his hand off her thigh and focused all of his concentration on the road. Headlights hit his rearview mirror with the blinding force of laser beams. Where the fuck had this car come from? They were on a two-lane road out in the middle of the ocean with no on- or off-ramps. Unless the driver had been going at least twenty above the speed limit—and who would risk that in this rain?—then that car had been following them from the get-go. A chill of awareness shot through Jude’s blood, and he fumbled in the center console for his phone.

Libby lifted her head, rubbed at the back of her neck, and squinted out the windshield. “Wow, it’s really raining now.” Yawning, she looked over at him. “What are you doing?”

“Find my phone. It’s in there somewhere.”

She twisted in her seat and dug through the compartment with maddening care.

“Faster.”

“What’s your hurry?”

He forced himself to keep his gaze on the road ahead of him. “I need to check my messages.”

“Ugh. Impatient, much? Hang on.” More digging around. “Here. Found it.” She swiped at the screen with her thumb. “You have a missed call from someone with the initials W.S.”

“Wilde Security. My brothers.” Another glance in the rearview showed the car had backed off a bit, but was still riding too damn close. “Get into the voice mail.” He told her his access code and waited, palm held out for the phone. She never handed it over.

“Oh my God. Jude, listen.” Her hand shook as she lowered the phone from her ear and pressed the speaker button. Greer’s voice came on the line, booming in the small car.

“…and Cam’s source claims K-Bar hasn’t been seen in a couple days. We have to assume he’s found you, and he’s headed your way. Call me as soon as you get this, and we’ll come up with an exfil plan to get you two the hell out of there. Take every precaution and don’t let Libby out of your sight.”

“Oh my God,” Libby said again. “Are you going to call him?”

Jude lifted his eyes to the rearview. Car was still on their ass, too close for comfort on a nearly empty road in a torrential downpour. He shook his head. “No. If we move you, he’ll just find you again. The safest place for you is Seth’s house. We just have to lose him before we get there.”


What
?”

He tilted his head toward the car. “Behind us. Pretty sure he was tailing us with his headlights off until the rain got too heavy to see the road without them. Hang on. We gotta get to civilization before him. It’s our only shot.”

As he floored the gas, Libby folded her arms around herself. “This can’t be happening.”

“It may be nothing,” he reminded her. “I may just be a paranoid bastard, and if that’s the case, we can laugh about it later. I have trouble believing K-Bar got around all of my brothers’ security measures and found you, but I’m not taking any more chances.”


After abandoning the car with a valet at a busy hotel, she and Jude nipped through the lobby, took a side exit, and made a mad dash through parking lots and private yards until they reached a street teeming with tourists who weren’t the least bit daunted by the now-light drizzle of rain. Music floated from the bars lining the street—everything from the mellow tones of an acoustic solo artist to bands blasting covers of popular songs. Chickens pecked along the sidewalk, as undaunted by the crowd as the crowd was by the rain. Jude pulled her past a colorfully dressed busker sitting on the street corner strumming a guitar and playing a tambourine with his foot. Both the man and the old hound sitting patiently at his side wore sunglasses and pirate hats.

Key West. This place was something else.

They slipped into a cozy shop, and Jude hustled her past shelves stuffed with seashell trinkets, snow globes, and cheap jewelry. He grabbed things off the racks as he went, then yanked her into a curtained dressing room. Spinning her toward him, he hiked her shirt over her head before she realized what he was doing.

“Jude, what the hell? We’re being followed! We don’t have time to screw around in a dressing room.”

“Interesting idea for another time,” he said. “But right now, you need to change.” Using his teeth, he broke the tag off a colorful sarong-like dress and shoved it at her, then quickly shed his own wet clothes. Paying no attention to his nakedness, he ripped off the tags on a pair of khaki shorts and a T-shirt that featured a beer bottle sitting under a palm tree and declared “I Heart Key West, Florida” in green letters.

“C’mon, Libs. Hurry.” With that, he dressed and left the fitting room with the price tags in hand. She peeked out, saw him snag a baseball cap and a big floppy hat, his eyes always scanning the windows at the front of the shop, studying the passing crowd on Duval Street. He set the ball cap on his head and smiled charmingly at the cashier as he paid. When he returned a few minutes later, he carried a plastic bag labeled with the shop’s name and started stuffing his wet clothes into it.

“Libby, move. Let’s go.”

She changed into the dress and donned the floppy hat he handed her, then stuffed her own wadded clothes into the bag. “Now what?”

“We’re James and Liza Wilson, honeymooners out for a night on Duval Street. Nothing more.”

“But what about K-Bar? If he—”

“I’m about 98.9 percent sure we lost him before we ditched the car, but we’re gonna stay out, mix in with the crowd for a bit, take a cab to the other side of the island, then hoof it to Seth’s. It’s going to be a long night.”

Numbly, she nodded.

He caught her head in his hands, made her meet his gaze. “I know this place better than I know D.C. He doesn’t. We have the advantage.”

“I just want to go back to the pool and the cat and your laundry all over the floor. I want to be safe.”

“I know.” With more tenderness than she thought he possessed, he brushed his lips across her forehead. “I know, babe. And we will, but I have to make sure the house stays safe first, okay?” His hands dropped to her shoulders, rubbed. “You can do this, Libby. You’re a strong, smart, independent woman.”

“I don’t feel like it. I’m scared.” It seemed like she’d been scared forever, ever since she received the first doll, but this was the first time she’d allowed herself to admit it to anyone. “I really am. Terrified.”

“It’s foolish not to be.”

“You’re not.”

“Like hell I’m not.” He dazzled her with one of his grins. “I’m just damn good at playing pretend. Now let me see the blushing bride, Liza Wilson. What does she do?”

Libby drew in a breath, straightened her shoulders. “Teacher,” she decided.

“Yeah? What grade?”

“Kindergarten.”

“Sounds like a headache.”

“No, it’s fun. She loves—No, wait.” Cursing under her breath, she corrected herself with as much conviction in her tone as she could muster, “
I
love it.”

“Perfect,” Jude said. “And what about James?”

“He’s….” She thought about it, then smiled evilly up at him. “An accountant.”

“Now that’s just cruel. And c’mon, who would believe I spend my days crunching numbers?” With a hand on her lower back, he guided her out of the dressing room. He waved at the cashier as they exited the store. “What about a shark wrangler?”

Okay. Time to get into character for real. Forcing herself not to study every face in the crowd, she slid and arm around his waist. “My dear husband, the only shark you can wrangle is the plastic one in our pool.”

“Hey.” He stopped, whirled her around, and fitted her against his body. “I wrangled you, didn’t I?” As his lips dipped down to brush hers, he added in a whisper, “You’re talking way too loud and sound like you’re reciting a script. Just relax, babe. Pretend we don’t have anyone after us, and I’m someone you actually love.”

Her stomach sank into her toes. Someone she loved. Oh, yeah, like that was going to be hard, considering the only man she’d ever loved besides her father stood in front of her with his arms tightly around her and concern in his pale blue eyes.

“Okay.” She swallowed down the lump rising in her throat and offered a weak smile. “I can do that. I’ll just picture Robert Downey Jr.”

And like that the worry vanished and his eyes narrowed as a scowl creased his forehead. “You
love
Robert Downey Jr.?”

“Who doesn’t?”

Grumbling under his breath, Jude clasped her hand and guided her into the nighttime party crowd on Duval Street.

Chapter Twenty

Jude waited until Libby excused herself to bed before making the call to his brothers. Even after he peeked in on her and found her curled on her side in the big bed, sound asleep, he still puttered around for another half hour before grabbing his cell phone and stepping out onto the patio. Part of that hesitation was because he didn’t want to scare her more by talking about the nitty-gritty of the mission in front of her. Mostly, he was just putting it off because he knew Reece was going to hit the roof.

Fun, fun.

It was nearly a quarter past one in the morning, but he’d try the office phone first. Reece didn’t have any kind of life, but even if he was at home, he’d have the office cell with him. Greer didn’t trust landlines so all business was conducted on burner phones.

The earlier rain had washed away the humidity in the air, leaving the night clear and cool. For once, all was quiet. He knew the party on Duval Street was probably just now swinging into high gear, but this end of town had called it a night early. No music came from the beach, not even the lone guitar that often strummed through the night until the first rays of morning spread over the ocean.

Jude stayed underneath the portico, sat in one of the wicker chairs, and stared at his phone. Pruitt’s lawyer had left three voice mails. He ignored them, but then scrolled blindly through his missed call list, stalling for time. Man, he really didn’t want to make this call.

The
pat-pat-pat
of soft paws caught his attention, and he lifted his gaze to see Sam had followed him outside. The big cat stopped in front of him, blinked its green eyes, twitched its tail, and in one mighty leap, landed gracefully on his lap.

“Damn cat,” Jude grumbled, but then heard the rhythmic purr pumping from the animal’s throat, and his heart melted just a bit. So maybe he could forgive the beast for scratching Libby all to hell.

Sam rubbed against his hand still holding the cell phone, almost as if assuring him it would all be okay. He sighed in surrender and scratched the cat’s white chin. “All right, Fuzz Butt. You’re cute. Sorta. But don’t tell Libby I said that. She’d have way too much fun I-told-ya-so-ing me.”

Purring like an outboard motor, Sam walked in a circle, plopped down on Jude’s lap, shot a leg into the air, and proceeded to lick his balls. Or the spot where his balls should have been. Poor animal had been snipped. Jude winced and resisted to urge to reach between his own legs to protect his equipment.

“Yeah, you won major sympathy points there, pal.” He rubbed a hand down the cat’s back, then gave him a light push. “Now get gone. Go cuddle up to Libby. She needs it, and I have a phone call to make.”

As if Sam understood, he jumped down and trotted into the house, still purring. Jude watched until the cat disappeared from sight, then turned his gaze back to the phone. Started to dial. Stopped. Tossed the phone from hand to hand.

“Goddammit.”

He hit speed dial before he could talk himself out of it. It rang twice—once more than usual—and to his surprise, Camden answered, sounding as if he hadn’t been to bed yet.

“You got Greer’s message?” he asked.

The tension seeped out of Jude like water from a sieve. Cam, he could talk to easily without the conversation devolving into a shouting match. “About K-Bar’s disappearance? Yeah. Where did that intel come from?”

“One of my informants,” Cam said and bit into something with a loud crunch. Probably one of the carrot sticks he’d taken to eating like candy after he quit smoking last year. “Soup’s reliable. Strung out, but his info’s always solid. He says K-Bar wouldn’t skip because Mama K-Bar put up her house for bond and her son wouldn’t want her ending up homeless. I believe him.”

“So where does that leave us?”

“I spent my day casting a net. If he shows anywhere in the city, we’ll be the first to know.”

“He may not be in the city,” Jude said and told Cam about the car that had been tailing them tonight. His brother reacted about like expected, with a litany of ear-blistering and creative curses.

He waited until Cam took a breath and added, “Which is why I need Reece to work his computer magic and lay a virtual trail to anywhere other than Key West.”

“Not happening. Reece is out,” Camden said. A tab popped on a can in the background. A beer, no doubt. Man, Jude could use one himself.

“What do you mean, out?”

“He took a home security contract that came in yesterday.”

“Fuck.” He dragged his hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck. Sighed. Really, he didn’t know why he was surprised. “The last time we spoke, he wasn’t happy with me.”

“So what else is new?”

“But I never thought he’d actually leave me hanging.”

“You did almost blow the mission wide open. You endangered Libby Pruitt’s life.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“I’m sorry,” Cam said, sounding not the least bit apologetic. Actually, there was a thick undercurrent of pissed off in his voice. “I have to side with Reece on this one. You were careless.”

“C’mon! There was no real threat in anyone seeing that Internet video and linking me to Libby. Not unless they wanted to dig back eight years and even then, it would be a difficult connection to make. I already told you I was careful about who saw us together.”

Camden made a sound full of disgust. “Man, you know I love you, but you are a complete asshole. Mom would be ashamed, the way you go through women like other men go through socks.”

Jude hissed softly as the barb struck home. Okay, that hurt, especially coming from Cam. He expected—hell, even looked forward to—those kind of remarks from Reece. But not Cam, the Wilde family’s glue, the peacemaker, the only one of his brothers that understood him. Or so he thought.

“Well,” he finally managed. At least his voice didn’t sound as raw as his emotions felt. “Everyone has flaws.”

“Some people more than others. You’re thirty fucking years old, Jude. When are you gonna straighten up your life?” Before he could formulate a response, Cam muttered a curse. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that. I’m exhausted, and my mouth’s working faster than my brain. I’m starting to sound like Reece.”

“No. You’re right. You’re both right. When this is over…” He trailed off. He didn’t know what would happen, but something had to change. He was tired of pretending. Tired of wearing a smile while everything else stayed locked up in his chest, slowly clawing him into shreds from the inside out.

“It is over,” Cam said. “Greer wants to pull you both out and relocate Libby to her father’s cabin in Vermont.”

So Pruitt had talked Greer into the cabin idea. If Jude thought that would do any good, he’d be in packing their bags now—wait. Cam only mentioned Libby’s name. Relocate
Libby
. “What about me?”

Cam stayed silent for a moment. “You’re coming home. Pruitt wants me to stay with her.”

“No.”

“Jude—”

“No fucking way.”

A pause. “Goddammit. Are you sleeping with her again?”

Okay, he hadn’t meant to give himself away like that. “So what?”

“So you’re seriously going to risk her life for a few more nights of fun?”

Jude’s teeth ground together so hard he felt his jaw pop from the pressure. “I’d
never
risk her life. For anything.”

More silence. Then, “Whoa. You care about her.”

“And you call yourself a detective? That should have been obvious from the start.”

“Yeah, I knew you cared—
at one time
. But I had no idea you’re still in l—”

“We’re not leaving,” Jude interrupted. “There’s nowhere safer for her than Seth’s house. This place is a fortress. Top of the line security, better than anything we have in our arsenal of tricks. Can’t Vaughn lay the cyber trail back to D.C. or even to the cabin in Vermont? Make it look like we left?”

Cam exhaled hard. “Vaughn’s good, but he’s not Reece. If K-Bar, or whoever, had the technology to track you to Key West in the first place, there’s a good chance he’ll see through it. I still think you should exfil. Greer’s gonna have a fit that you’re refusing.”

No doubt about it, and Jude was extremely glad he wouldn’t be around to receive the brunt of Greer’s temper this time. “Believe me, Cam, I want her safe as much as anyone. If I didn’t think she was safe here anymore, I’d be the first to say so, but there’s no place on Earth better to hide than in this house. You know how paranoid Seth got after everything he went through.”

“Then you need to utilize every safety measure he has in place,” Cam said. “We lay that trail, you’ll have to stay inside the house. No more jaunts to the beach in your underwear. No more paddle boarding trips. No Duval Street. No grocery shopping. Everything will be delivered to the front door by men I’ll personally pick. You’re not even walking out to the curb for the newspaper, got me?”

Jude thought back on the day. So perfect in every way until he spotted that car tailing them and now Libby would never remember anything but the fear of running from someone who may not have even been chasing them. This threat to her was a boogeyman—intangible, but scary enough to make you check under the bed twice before going to sleep.

And, like he’d told her in the car, he was done taking chances.

“Yeah, I got you. We’ll stay inside the gate,” he said to Cam. “Call me as soon as you find out where the hell K-Bar’s hiding.”


Libby heard the patio door slide shut and stilled her hand on Sam’s back, feigning sleep. Jude’s footfalls came softly as he extinguished lights on the way to the bedroom, but he hesitated in the doorway, and she lifted one eyelid to watch him. He stood just inside the room, a pool of cool moonlight splashing around his feet from the sliding glass doors that led to the garden and pool. Simply standing there, staring at the bed. She felt his eyes sweep over her and despite the chill in the air, her skin heated in response with the memory of sun, water, and sex.

He finally moved around the end of the bed, stripping off his clothes and dropping them on the floor, kicking them out of the way when they landed in his path. She should tell him to pick them up and put them away like a normal adult, but she said nothing. There would be time for that tomorrow.

He slid underneath the covers and spooned up behind her. She should tell him to go back to the couch and leave her alone, but the idea of sleeping in this big bed alone tonight sent icy snakes of fear slithering down her spine. She didn’t want to be alone. All right, if she was perfectly honest with herself, it was more than a need for companionship. Not just anyone would do. It was all him. She didn’t want to be without him, specifically, tonight.

So instead of telling him off like she knew she should, she reveled in his tattooed arms encasing her in their strength, relaxed in the comfort of his long frame pressed chest-to-back against her, drifted in the tenderness of the moment as he buried his face in her hair.

“I will keep you safe,” he whispered.

She turned to him in the dark, unable to fake sleep any longer. She clasped his face between her palms and kissed him, a light back and forth brush of her lips across his. “I know.”

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