Wilde for Her (A Wilde Security Novel) (Entangled Brazen)

by Burrows, Tonya

  “Call the police,” she ordered Shelby.

  At those words, Doug stopped laughing. His eyes widened, and he dove for the front door. A second later, his truck sputtered to life.

  Too bad for him, Eva had his plate number.

  …

  After dropping Eva off at her car, Cam went home, but found he couldn’t settle and decided to make a quick trip to the office to grab some papers on the browbeaten cheater case. He’d gathered enough evidence that his client should have no trouble making a solid case for divorce, but he wanted to put it all together in a presentable report before he met with her again tomorrow. So he threw on his coat and trekked back out into the cold.

  Reece’s Escalade sat in the Wilde Security lot—he must have retired his sports cars until spring—and the lights blazed from behind the front door as Cam used his key to get in. Damn. He’d hoped none of his brothers would be here this time of night. And he hadn’t been as careful about checking his surroundings since he and Eva left for Maguire’s, too distracted by sex and her call from Preston to worry about the hitman lurking somewhere in the city, waiting for a shot at him. But that worry came roaring back now. He set a hand on his gun under his coat and scanned the parking lot. Nothing moved, no cars drove by on the street.

  Jesus. If the hitman didn’t get to him, this creeping sense of paranoia would.

  Exhaling with relief, he pushed through the door. Reece stood by the coffee pot, waiting for it to finish brewing, his tie loosened and his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, which was about as relaxed as the second oldest Wilde brother ever got. The only sounds in the office were the bubbling of the coffee as it percolated and the police scanner, a low static hum in the background. Cam hated having the thing on, because the cop in him couldn’t tune it out like his brothers could.

  “Hey, bro,” Cam said and locked the door again before he crossed to his desk. “Didn’t know you’d be back tonight.”

  Reece glanced over his shoulder as he poured himself a mug from the fresh pot, his eyes red-rimmed. “You’re in a disgustingly good mood for midnight.”

  Okay, yeah, there was a distinct bounce in his step, but hot car sex did that to a guy. “Eh, I’m a night owl. How was Philly?”

  “A headache.”

  “Then why aren’t you home?”

  “Because I picked up three more home security jobs while there, and I have to put together option packages for each.”

  Why that was so urgent it couldn’t wait until tomorrow, Cam had no idea, but he didn’t bother arguing. When it came to business or computers, Reece was a machine. Hell, the guy was a freaking Terminator and people in the city quaked at the thought of ending up on the wrong side of a boardroom table from him. Before Greer brought him in on the idea of starting Wilde Security, Reece had founded a corporation that created computer simulations for military use, and he held the kinds of security clearances that most people had no clue even existed. He had more money than he could spend in two lifetimes, and Cam often suspected it was his sole financial support that kept Wilde Security afloat.

  So, yeah, not a guy to argue with when it came to work.

  Cam gathered what he needed from his desk, then headed toward the door. “Don’t work too hard.”

  “Cam.”

  Shit. That tone didn’t bode well for the coming conversation. Maybe he could still escape and preserve his good mood for a little while longer. He eyed the door, but decided against making a run for it. Wilde men didn’t run.

  He blew out a breath and faced his brother. “If you’re gonna start in on me about the supposed contract that’s on my head, don’t. I already talked to Greer about it.”

  “Yes, I know. And then you turned the conversation to Greer’s problems.”

  “Rightfully so. Have you looked at him lately? There’s something fucked up going on with him.”

  “I’m aware.” Reece perched on the edge of Jude’s desk and crossed his feet at the ankles. Several beats of silence slipped by as he sipped his coffee.

  “And…?” Cam prompted.

  “And Greer’s not the issue right now. We need to focus on this problem of yours first.”

  Jesus Christ. Why wouldn’t his brothers get off his back about this? He had it handled, and for their own sakes, they didn’t need to be involved. “It’s not a problem, Reece. Nothing has happened to me. Nothing is going to happen to me. I’m telling you, this whole thing about a hit was just Soup’s way of prying money out of me. So, drop it.”

  Reece heaved a sigh. “You know, you have a really bad habit of deflecting—”

  Cam held up a hand as buzz from the scanner caught his attention. Domestic dispute between a mother and her daughters. Drugs possibly involved. Injuries reported. A detective already at the scene…

  Reece’s eyes narrowed. “Isn’t that—”

  “Eva’s house. Fuck.” As his heart lodged like a rock in his throat, he dropped the files he was holding and bolted for the door, but Reece caught his arm.

  “Whoa, I’ll drive. You work on getting a hold of Eva.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  As Reece hit the highway breaking every speed limit, Cam’s phone buzzed in his pocket. Eva’s name appeared on the display, and he snapped it up, air exploding out of his lungs in relief that she’d returned his frantic calls.

  “Are you okay?”

  She drew a breath that shook. “Mom attacked Shelby.”

  “I know. I heard it on the scanner. Are you okay?”

  Silence.

  His heart damn near stopped. “Baby, answer me.”

  “Cam.” Her voice broke on his name. “I need you.”

  “I’m on my way.” He thumped the dashboard with his palm. Reece all but stood on the gas, and twenty frustrating minutes later, they were pulling up behind a swarm of police vehicles.

  Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who recognized her address.

  His feet hit the pavement before Reece had the Escalade in park. Several of the officers recognized him and pointed to the ambulance backed ass-end to the curb in front of Eva’s house, but when he looked inside, he found two paramedics talking sedately over a petite blond woman. Strapped down to the gurney, she was out cold.

  Eva’s mother.

  It was the first look he’d ever gotten of the woman, and he saw little resemblance between Katrina Bremer and Eva. Wherever Eva was dark—hair, skin, eyes—Katrina was light. Why that relived him, he couldn’t begin to guess.

  One of the medics noticed him standing there and nodded toward the house. “Cardoso’s inside. She and her sister are okay.”

  “Thanks.” Without another thought for the woman who had brought Eva into the world, he spirited across the yard and up the steps. Reece met him at the door and followed him into the house.

  First thing he noticed was the scent of pot clinging to the air. The second was Eva, standing at the kitchen counter with her back to him, pressing a bag of frozen peas to her sister’s swollen eye. He wanted to cross the space and sweep her into his arms and got half way to her before remembering himself.

  Friends.

  She’d called him as her best friend, not her lover.

  He slowed his pace and drew in several calming breaths before speaking. Just seeing her unharmed and in one piece would have to be enough. At least until he got her alone. “Is everyone okay?”

  Eva spun and lurched forward a step like she wanted to throw herself into his embrace as much as he wanted to scoop her up and hold her. He even spread his arms to catch her, but she stopped short, and her cheeks filled with color as her gaze darted around the room. He tried to tell her with his eyes that nobody would blame her for breaking down, for leaning on him for comfort, but she only straightened her shoulders and answered his question.

  “Shelby has a good shiner, but otherwise, we’re both fine. Mom’s going to the hospital for a psychiatric evaluation. We’re pressing charges.”

  “No, we’re not,” Shelby said and jumped down f
rom her seat on the counter. She moved around Eva, giving her sister a look with her one good eye that dared her to argue, then studied Cam for a moment before her gaze landed on Reece. “Whoa. Hey, Evie, look. It’s Suit and Tie.” She grinned and elbowed her sister. “Remember the hot guy from the coffee shop I told ya about? The one that eye-fucks me?”

  Cam stared at his brother. “What the fuck? You hit on Eva’s sister?”

  “Not in words,” Shelby said, still grinning. “He just always looks like he wants to lick me from head to toe. Like ice cream.”

  Eva bit her lower lip, but her laugh escaped in a snort, which set Shelby off until the two were all but rolling around on the floor in a fit of hysterical laughter.

  Reece held up his hands and backed away. “Cam, I swear, I didn’t touch her.”

  “And you’re not going to. Eva’s little sister? Bro, really?”

  “Slurrrp,” Shelby said between laughing gasps for air.

  Reece shut his eyes. “I’m leaving. I imagine you’re staying here tonight?”

  “Yeah,” Cam said. “I am.”

  “Right. Okay.” He actually stumbled over himself backing away, like he couldn’t get out of the house fast enough. “I have work to do.”

  …

  Sometime after Reece’s hasty exit and before the cops left, Shelby’s laughing fit devolved into shuddering, gut-wrenching sobs. Cam watched with a horrible sense of helplessness as Eva tried to calm her. The medic said she was in shock, and she should go to the hospital, but Shelby had made her position on that idea quite clear earlier in the night, and Eva upheld her wish to stay home.

  Eventually, the medic gave her a painkiller laced with a light sedative, and she finally drifted to sleep on the couch with her sister cradling her head.

  “She’s out,” Eva said, her own exhaustion weighing heavy in her voice. She stroked a hand over Shelby’s pink-streaked blond hair. “I haven’t seen her cry like that in years. This really shook her up.”

  Had shaken Eva, too, although Cam didn’t point it out. He pushed up from the chair he’d settled into. “Want me to carry her to her room?”

  “Would you? I think she’ll feel safer in her own bed.” She glanced around the living room, wincing at the mess her mother had left. “And I want to clean up before she wakes. She doesn’t need the visual reminder.”

  Cam nodded and very gently slid his arms underneath Shelby. The girl weighed next to nothing, and a fierce surge of protectiveness swamped him as he picked her up. Eva, he never much worried about because she could hold her own against anyone. It was one of the things he found so freaking sexy about her. But Shelby? As tiny as she was, she couldn’t win a battle against a cockroach. And if anything ever happened to her, Eva would never recover from the heartbreak.

  He would not let that happen.

  “I got you, Shel,” he murmured when he laid her down and she stirred restlessly. He pulled the covers over her and stood there, talking in soft tones until she settled again. He backed out and shut the door, listening for a moment to make sure she didn’t wake.

  Silence.

  Good.

  In the living room, he found Eva stuffing beer cans into a black garbage bag. Outwardly, she seemed to be holding it together well, but her movements were stiff, jerky, and each breath she exhaled came out a bit too ragged.

  He crossed the room and wrapped his arms around her, wishing he could take the pain away. She stiffened for a moment, but then relaxed with a shudder and turned to bury her face in the crook of his neck. He stroked her back, trembles of suppressed emotion rippling underneath his hand. He wanted to tell her to let go, cry it out, but that would be as useless as yelling into a hurricane.

  Sometimes he wished his woman wasn’t quite so strong.

  “Mom never physically abused us,” she said eventually.

  “I know.”

  “She was ranting, paranoid.”

  “Drugs do that to people.”

  “She’s never going to change.” She sighed. “I need to finish cleaning.” But she stayed put, clinging to him like she couldn’t bear to let him go.

  “Leave it for the morning,” he whispered into her hair. “Let’s go to bed.”

  She didn’t protest. Just went to show how emotionally wiped out she was. He scooped her into his arms. She wasn’t as light as Shelby. He didn’t want her to be. He wanted a woman who wouldn’t feel like porcelain in his hands, with the strength to stand up to him in bed and out, and he loved Eva’s body, all long, sleek muscle with soft curves in exactly the right places.

  His cock hardened and he mentally cursed himself for it. Not tonight. Tonight was about comfort. Tonight, he’d be the friend she needed.

  As he set her on the edge of her bed, she grabbed a fistful of his shirt and dragged his mouth to hers. A branding kiss. Claiming. Her hands slid down his chest to the waistband of his pants, and she tugged him forward. He followed her onto the mattress, but switched their positions so that she was on top, letting her take the lead this time, set the pace. She shoved at his shirt; he lifted his head so she could get it off, and her mouth found his nipple. The hot, insistent tug made his cock jump, pinching him against the front of his jeans. It was the best kind of pain, and he groaned as her mouth trailed down. She undid his fly with her lips and teeth, kissed her way down his straining erection through the cotton of his boxer-briefs.

  He knotted his hands in the sheet under him, curtailing the urge to touch her, to get her under him and taste her sweet pussy before he took her.

  This was her show. Whatever she wanted.

  She released his cock and her mouth engulfed him, her tongue tracing the underside until his hips bucked off the bed of their own accord. She made a pleased humming noise in her throat that traveled up his shaft and nailed him in the gut.

  Christ, he wanted inside her.

  Eva swirled her tongue over his head one last time before her mouth left him and she dragged his pants off. She made short work of her own clothing, and her skin was cool against his as she slid up his overheated body, her mouth blazing a hot trail along his flesh.

  By the time she straddled him and accepted him deep into her body, he trembled with need. She moved slow, raising herself over him, her fingers trailing down her stomach to find them where they were joined. She rubbed her own clit and so many dirty thoughts tumbled through his mind, but he bit them back. There was a time for that kind of talk, and now wasn’t it.

  But, fuck, she was driving him insane.

  He allowed his hands to uncurl from the sheet and move to her thighs, then to her ass. But he didn’t urge her to quicken the pace, didn’t hold her still and pump into her like he wanted. He watched her take pleasure in his body and her own, and the sight was the most erotic thing he’d ever seen in his life. Her head fell back, spilling her dark hair down her back. A moan vibrated from her throat as her thighs tightened around his hips and she moved faster, her breasts bouncing, her moans sharpening into little cries until a hard spasm quaked through her and he lost all sense of sight as his own orgasm rocketed from him.

  Gasping, she collapsed on his chest. He released his grip on her ass and slid his hands up her back, down again, up, down.

  She let loose with a shuddering sound that was as close to a sob as he’d ever heard from her. He wrapped her up in his arms, rolling so that they lay side by side, their bodies still locked together in the most intimate of ways.

  Her heavy-lidded eyes opened and searched his face. “How can you do that?” she whispered. “Give up control so easily like that?”

  “Sweetheart, it isn’t about control. Never was.”

  “You like being in control.”

  “I do,” he admitted and swept a strand of hair out of her face. “But I like giving you what you need more. And, this time, you needed to be in charge.”

  “Thank you, Cam. For everything.” She snuggled closer, her lips brushing his neck in a sweet little kiss. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”<
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  And she was gone, carried away from him by exhaustion and the release of orgasm. Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he pulled the blanket up over them both and held her through the rest of the night.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Chica, you read this yet?” Miguel wheeled his chair across the aisle and slapped a stapled stack of papers on her desk.

  “What is it?” Eva picked them up and scanned the first page—the autopsy report on Soup. “Good. I’ve been wondering when we’d get this.”

  “You won’t be sayin’ ‘good’ once you read it.”

  She lowered the papers. “Uh-oh. Don’t tell me the case just got complicated.”

  “Case got complicated,” he said with a grave nod.

  “Damn. All right, give me the Cliff’s Notes version.”

  “Soup had enough heroin in his system to kill five healthy men. Medical examiner says his heart would have stopped before he was able to finish injecting himself with this high of a dose. There was also some postmortem bruising on his arms, suggesting he was held down. Lots of bruising at the injection site, too.”

  “So,” Eva said and the glow left over from the last three nights she’d spent with Cam faded. “Someone did it for him.”

  “And not at our crime scene. Lividity proves Soup was moved several hours after time of death, which the M.E. puts sometime late in the evening two Fridays ago.”

  Meaning Cam was probably the last person to see Soup alive. Which would not look good in a report.

  Shit.

  “You gonna call Wilde?” Miguel asked, reading her mind.

  “He’s not involved in Soup’s murder.” That much she knew with a hundred percent certainty—but he was holding something back from her. He had been since she first interviewed him, but she kept brushing it off as nothing.

  Now, it was something.

  Pain’s jagged edge cut her to the core at the thought of Cam lying to her. She wanted to talk to him. Alone. Wanted to hear what he had to say, which was not standard operating procedure when interviewing a witness. “We should go see him.”