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Wilde at Heart Page 2
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She raised a hand to her mouth. “Oh my God.”
“Where’s the nearest exit?”
She pointed across the kitchen to a spot on the far wall. Where the smoke was heaviest, naturally.
“Yeah, of course it’d be there.” He stripped off his suit coat and wrapped it in a makeshift bandana around her face, tying the arms behind her head.
“Wha—what about you?” she sputtered.
He untucked his button-down shirt and lifted the front to cover his mouth and nose. “All right?”
She shot a glance at the thickening smoke and firmed up her shoulders. Nodded. Her show of bravado would have been convincing if he didn’t feel her trembling when he closed his hand around hers.
“Stay low. We’ll be out of here in no time.”
Chapter Two
The walk to the fire exit seemed endless, each step taking them deeper into the blackness, until Reece shoved open the fire exit and pushed her out ahead of him. Shelby’s eyes and lungs burned, scoured raw by the smoke that rolled from the door behind them, thick and black. It seemed to reach out and wrap itself around them as if it planned to drag them back inside to their deaths.
Her heart was trying its damnedest to swan-dive out of her chest. When she saw those first dark tendrils creeping across the ceiling, she had never been more frightened in her life. Which was saying something, since she’d landed herself in some pretty scary situations over the years.
But the whole time, Reece never let go of her hand, and she drew strength from the connection. It calmed her. Allowed her to function past the fear that threatened to paralyze her. If she had been alone, she honestly didn’t know if she’d have made it out of the building.
Across the street from The Bean Gallery, the shock finally caught up to her, and she lost her footing on the ice-slickened sidewalk. Reece was right there, his arm a solid weight around her waist, keeping her upright. She tilted her head back, stared up at him through blurry eyes. His tidy white dress shirt was no longer tidy or white, and soot streaked his face, coated his hair.
“I have you,” he said softly and tightened his grip.
Reece Wilde—genius, workaholic, millionaire muckety-muck—had her, the girl from the way wrong side of the tracks. And he wasn’t just slumming it for a night like she first suspected. Oh, no. Because if that was the case, he wouldn’t want to be publicly associated with her in any way other than through their siblings’ upcoming marriage, and he’d be outta here before the fire department showed. Instead, he looked as if he had no intention of leaving. Which maybe was a good thing since he was all but holding her up at the moment.
No, tonight hadn’t been about slumming. Had it been his clumsy attempt at…courting her? He was just that type of guy to court a woman, all hero with a core of pure goodness and solid honor. He was the type of man to stick around. His freak-out in the office when she would have let him do just about anything to her on that desk proved as much, made her realize how uncomfortable he was with the whole idea of a slam, bam, thank you, ma’am.
So, yeah, he’d stick around. Maybe for good, which kinda scared the hell out of her, because she didn’t do permanent anything. Except for her tattoos, but that was different, because they were the storybook of her life, the forever-present reminders of her mistakes and her triumphs. But in every other aspect of her world, she was completely, 100 percent anti-permanent. Hell, even her hair color changed every other week.
Reece was the human equivalent of tattoo ink. She was henna.
But for a moment, with his arm around her and the heat of his body easing her shocked shivers, she did wonder…
Oh, no. What was she thinking? She so wasn’t about to rehash Pretty in Pink with him. For one thing, he didn’t need her kind of trouble in his life.
She shrugged out of his arms and turned to watch the fire eat away her one chance at a normal, straight-and-narrow life. Smoke and flames roiled from the broken front window and blackened the outside brick. She rubbed her hands over her eyes and only then did she realize his suit coat was still wrapped bandana-like around the lower half of her face. She yanked it off and scrubbed away the tears that made her vision go all wavy.
Dammit, she loved that place. Had put her heart and soul into it. And now it was gone.
A siren wailed somewhere close by. The firefighters were on their way, which meant her sister, detective extraordinaire, wouldn’t be too far behind. And along with her sister would come Reece’s brother.
“You should go,” she told him, still staring at the flames. “We both know Eva didn’t send you here tonight. You’ll catch hell from Cam.”
He made a noncommittal sound and didn’t move. She faced him. “I’m serious. Go before they see you.”
“You think I’m afraid of Cam?” A hint of a smile turned up the corner of his too-serious mouth. “I used to dig up worms in our backyard and chase him around with them until he cried. I’m not afraid of my little brother.”
“Maybe not. But you should be very afraid of my big sister. If Eva finds out what we were doing in there before the fire broke out…”
If she wasn’t mistaken, a flush filled his cheeks underneath the soot. “We’re both consenting adults. And as I said, it’s not happening again.”
“Humph. Tell Eva that. See how well it goes over. I’ll give you a hint: lead balloon.”
“It’ll be fine.”
“Keep looking on the bright side, Starburst. One thing, though. You weren’t planning on ever having children, were you? Because Eva will make sure you don’t.”
He winced.
She patted his shoulder, then on impulse stood on her toes to kiss his cheek. He was just too damn cute. “Do us both a favor and leave. Please. It will make this about a billion times easier for me, okay?”
He stared down into her eyes for a long moment, and she hoped to all things holy he couldn’t read any of her secrets. Because she got the feeling he could, and it chilled her to the bone.
“Please,” she said again on barely a breath of sound and held out his jacket. As grateful as she had been for it during their dash through the smoke, she didn’t want Cam or Eva to see her with it now.
The fire engine’s lights flashed red and yellow against the snow clouds hovering over the city. They were less than a block away at this point, and she feared he was going to be stubborn, but he finally gave a short nod and took the jacket. “We’re going to talk later.”
He left her standing on the sidewalk and climbed into an SUV that was worth way more than she’d ever made in her lifetime. She wished she could hate him for it, but when she tried, the worry she’d seen in his eyes edged out all the negative emotions and filled her with the warm fuzzies.
Ugh. That man was dangerous.
The fire truck screamed to a stop in front of the building, and they wasted no time hooking up their hoses. Streams of water filled the air and within minutes, they had the fire under control.
One of the firefighters came over to her with a blanket. It was just cold enough that the mist from the hoses was already freezing into ice on his helmet and, for the first time, she realized how cold she truly was. And here she thought it was only shock.
He draped the blanket over her shoulders. “Are you okay? Do you need medical attention?”
She shook her head. “I’m fine.”
“What happened here?”
She opened her mouth to tell him how she was preparing the bank deposits before leaving for the night—true—when she noticed smoke and escaped out the side exit—also true—but a car pulled up behind the fire truck, lights flashing in its grill. The fireman glanced over, and then did a double take when Eva and Cam slid out of the vehicle.
“Hey, Detective Cardoso. Someone call homicide?”
“No,” Eva said, and her tone was all omg-I’m-going-to-lock-Shelby-in-a-plastic-bubble-and-never-let-her-leave. “Deluca, this is my sister.”
Shelby managed to keep her wince internal. Someday she wanted E
va to say that without looking like she just bit into a lemon.
“Oh.” Deluca’s eyes narrowed as he looked from Eva—tall, thin, dark hair, and olive skin—to Shelby—petite, curvy, turquoise-and-purple-for-now hair and fair complexion—and then back again.
“Half sisters,” Shelby explained helpfully, then regretted drawing attention to herself, because Eva whirled on her.
“What the hell happened?”
Shelby sucked in a breath and gave her sister the story she’d been about to tell Deluca. When she finished, Cam frowned and scrubbed a hand through his dark hair. It was a thoughtful expression, which was so Cam-like she kind of wanted to hug him. Always steady and solid, he was the rock of Gibraltar in his family. She couldn’t wait until he became her brother-in-law.
“Anybody here with you?” he asked.
Oh, shit. Steady, solid, and way too frigging perceptive. “No, not now.”
“On the way in, I thought we passed…” He trailed off, shook his head. “Nah, forget it. Was it arson or an accident?” he asked Deluca.
Deluca shrugged. “Won’t know until the fire’s out and one of our investigators can get inside. But, I gotta tell ya, just between you and me, that broken front window is looking suspicious.”
“How so?”
“Well. If something had exploded inside the building and broke the window, there would be shards of glass on the sidewalk, but there aren’t.”
“Meaning something from outside the building broke the glass,” Cam said. “Something like a Molotov cocktail thrown through the window.”
“You got it.”
Arson? Shelby’s stomach flipped over, and she hugged the blanket tighter around herself. Oh God. If Reece hadn’t been here with her…
Someone wanted her pushing up daisies.
Maybe it shouldn’t surprise her, given the life she’d lived up until a few months ago, but it did. It really did.
Holy batshit, Robin.
“Shit,” Cam muttered, succinctly echoing her own thoughts. “Mind if I take a look?”
“Once the flames are out, sure.” As the two men started toward the fire truck, she heard Deluca add, “We’ll need to contact the owners—”
“I’ll do it!”
They stopped, turned, and Shelby realized she’d sounded far too eager. “I mean, the blow might be softer coming from someone they know. I’ll contact them.”
After a beat, Deluca nodded. “You do that.”
Stupid, she scolded herself as she watched them walk away. Stupid, stupid. Should’ve told the truth. Which, yeah, meant she’d have a lot of ’splaining to do. The kind of explanations she really wasn’t ready to give and some she couldn’t.
Behind her, Eva cleared her throat. “Shelby.”
She glanced over, saw her sister’s arms crossed, boot tapping out an impatient rhythm in the slush on the sidewalk.
“I can tell something’s going on,” Eva said.
“Besides my place of employment burning to the ground as we speak?”
“Besides that. Did you start the fire? It’s okay if it was an accident. You just have to come clean.”
Shelby blew out a breath. Of course Eva thought that. In her sister’s mind, she was a walking jinx. “No, I didn’t start it. You heard the hottie fireman. He thinks it was arson, and Cam seems to agree.”
Eva ran her hands through her loose, bed-tangled hair. Didn’t take a genius to figure out what she and Cam had been up to before they heard about the fire.
Which, of course, made her think of Reece. And the bone-quaking orgasm he’d been on the verge of giving her.
Despite everything, a blossom of lust unfurled low in her belly. The way he’d touched her had been…unrestrained. Sweet, a little clumsy, and uncharacteristically enthusiastic. So not what she’d expected from Reece stick-up-the-ass Wilde.
And, dammit, she wanted more.
Was there a female equivalent of blue balls? Because she had a mean case of it, which the adrenaline rush had only exacerbated.
Eva waved a hand in front of her face. “Planet Earth to Shel, come in.”
Shelby shook her head, dislodging all thoughts of Reece. “Sorry. What?”
Eva frowned, concern etching lines around her eyes. “Are you okay? Maybe we should take you to the hospital.”
“No, you don’t need to do that. I’m exhausted and zoned out for a sec. No biggie. What were you saying?”
“Oh God. Shelby, you scared me, you know?” Eva stepped forward and wrapped her up in a hard hug. “You were here closing by yourself, and when I heard the call come across the scanner…”
Shelby held her just as tightly and breathed in the leathery scent of her sister’s jacket mixed with the clean scent of soap from a recent shower. It did wonders to calm her still-racing heart. “I’m so sorry, Evie. But I’m okay. Honest.”
“Whatever’s going on with you, you know you can tell me, right? I can’t promise I won’t get mad at first, but I’m always here for you, no matter what.”
“I’ve never doubted that.”
“So then what aren’t you telling me?”
Oh, so much. So very much that she didn’t even know where or how to begin.
She clung to her sister and watched the firemen douse the last of the flames. The front end of The Bean Gallery was nothing but a blackened shell now, and tears pricked her eyes. And for a heartbeat, warm and comfortable in her sister’s embrace, she considered spilling everything. All she had to do was open her mouth and start talking.
But then she caught sight of a familiar face in the crowd of bystanders that had begun to gather on the sidewalk, and her heart dropped to her toes.
Shitballs. And here she’d thought this night couldn’t possibly get any worse.
Chapter Three
“What are you doing here?”
Reece glanced up from the spreadsheets on his laptop to see his brother Vaughn lounging in the doorway of his office. It was a tiny room in the back of the Wilde Security building and Vaughn filled the doorframe with his body.
“I could ask the same of you,” Reece said, avoiding the question. “As best man, shouldn’t you be with the groom, making sure he gets to the plane on time tomorrow?”
“Cam’s so goofy in love with Eva, he’s not going to miss that plane for anything.” Vaughn lifted a shoulder. “And I wanted to check some things before we leave.”
“Lark.” Reece didn’t bother making it a question. He knew damn well Vaughn was like a starving pit bull with a bone when he latched on to something. And he’d latched on to Lark Warren’s disappearance with all his teeth, though nobody could figure out why. As far as Reece knew, Vaughn had only met Lark once at their youngest brother Jude’s wedding last fall, but he was bound and determined to find the woman now. Which was proving more difficult than any of them could have guessed since the real Lark Warren was a sixty-eight-year-old who had died of a heart attack three years ago, shortly before Vaughn’s “Lark” appeared in D.C.
Reece returned his attention to his computer, but the numbers on the screen were starting to blur together. Time to lose the contacts and break out the glasses, he decided, and opened the top drawer of his desk, found his contacts case, solution, and glasses. He stood. “You have to let her go, Vaughn. This obsession isn’t good for your health.”
“Jesus. I’m not a fucking fragile china doll.”
“Never said that.” He stopped in front of Vaughn and waited for his brother to step back, out of the doorway, to let him pass.
Vaughn didn’t move. “You didn’t have to say it.”
At six feet tall, Reece wasn’t a small man by any stretch of the imagination, but he was the shortest in the Wilde family and had to look up to meet his younger brother’s gaze. “You were seriously injured less than two months ago. You shouldn’t even be thinking about coming back to work yet, not to mention chasing this woman’s trail across the country.”
“I’m fine.” But even as he said the words, he pushed
away from the doorjamb, and his jaw tightened with a suppressed wince.
“Yeah, you look it.” Reece strode past him to the bathroom and started the preparations to remove his contacts at the vanity. Vaughn’s walking cast clomped across the floor, then a chair scraped back and a computer booted up.
“Did you hear about the shit Shelby got into the other night?” Vaughn asked.
He fumbled his contact and it landed somewhere on the floor. “Fuck!”
“What?”
“Nothing. Dropped my contact.” He groped around for his glasses and slid them on, but didn’t bother searching for the lost contact. He returned to the main room where Vaughn was sitting at his desk, typing.
“Should get corrective surgery like Cam did,” Vaughn said without looking up.
He’d considered it several times over the years, but what did it say about him that he hated the idea of losing even a day of work to get his vision fixed? Probably nothing good, so he shoved the idea aside.
“What did you say about Shelby?” Jesus, he hoped he’d managed to keep his voice casual, because his heart was pounding a hole in his ribcage.
Vaughn still didn’t look away from his screen. “Yeah, that girl is a walking disaster. The Bean Gallery burned to the ground during her shift on New Year’s Eve.”
In the faint blue light of the computer screen, he watched Vaughn’s expression closely, trying to decide if he were being baited. But he saw no hint of it. Besides, there was no way Vaughn could know. No. Way. He had to relax before he gave himself away. “Is she all right?”
“Yeah, she’s good. Shaken up, Cam says, but uninjured. They’re calling it arson.”
Arson.
For a second, everything stopped. The sound of Vaughn’s fingers on the keyboard, the hum of the fluorescent overhead lights, Reece’s heart. Everything.
It was arson.
Jesus, he never should have left the scene.
Then something in Vaughn’s tone snapped him back to the here and now and had alarm bells clanging inside his head. “Don’t tell me they think Shelby did it.”