Wilde Nights in Paradise (Wilde Security, #1)

His jaw clenched together so hard she heard his back teeth grind. Without another word, he snapped up his phone from the end table and walked away.

Dammit. Libby sighed at herself and straightened, running her fingers through her tangled hair. Through the window, she watched him sit down on one of the loungers by the pool and check the screen of his phone. She’d only meant to aggravate him. His numerous sexual conquests bothered her, so of course, she had to keep picking away at them like a child picks at a scab.

What she couldn’t understand is why her mentioning his love life always seemed to hurt his feelings, too.



Three missed calls from Reece. And one from GQ, Colonel Pruitt’s uppity lawyer.

Jude blew out a breath. Just what he didn’t want to deal with right now when he had a raging case of blue balls and the only woman he wanted thought he was nothing more than man-whore.

He stole a glance inside the house, but Libby had left the living room and was nowhere to be seen.

Something had to give there. He didn’t know what, but they couldn’t keep going on like they had been.

He should talk to her. Talking had never had been something he was particularly good at or fond of—at least not when it came to the serious kind of talking that started or ended relationships, the kind that got messy with all sorts of emotion.

And speaking of messy…

He stared down at his phone, then hit the speed dial before he could talk himself out of it. If he didn’t return those three calls, Reece would just blow up his phone until he answered. Then things would really get messy.

Reece didn’t waste time with a greeting. “In. Your. Underwear. Really? I mean…really?”

Of all the things he’d expected this convo to be about, underwear hadn’t been anywhere on that list. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t tell me you don’t know,” Reece all but growled. “You. On the beach. In your underwear. With a lizard. What fucking part of low fucking profile don’t you get, Jude? I mean, fuck, you’re a meme. You’re all over the Internet.”

The back of his neck heated. “All over?”

“Some tourist posted you on YouTube, and it went viral.”

Jude gave himself a moment, just a moment, to wallow in the embarrassment, the shame, but then he gulped it all down and forced himself to laugh. “So I’m like an underwear model now. Maybe I’ll get a commercial deal with Hanes.”

“Jesus,” Reece said, his tone one of complete awe. “You don’t get it. You really don’t. Goddammit, Jude, Pruitt and his fucking lawyer are both riding our asses, and we’re pulling all-nighters up here. There’s a woman and her family counting on you to keep her safe. A woman you supposedly cared about at one time, and you’re running around like drunken frat boy, posing for tourists? Are you really that selfish and—” He broke off, sighed. “No, I’m done yelling. I can’t deal with you anymore. I’m…done.”

Jude’s heart lodged in his throat, and speech was nearly impossible around it. “Reece—”

“Greer or one of the twins will be calling so keep the phone nearby. We need to make plans to get Libby out of there.”

Oh shit. They couldn’t take Libby out of here. It was the safest place for her. “No! No, you’re right, I screwed up again. Okay? But listen, the only people who know Libby is here with me are you guys, Seth, and Libby’s father. The lawyer doesn’t even know where we are, does he?”

“No,” Reece said as if he had to unlock his jaw to get the sound out.

“And nobody else knows about our connection, so why would they suspect she’s down here partying it up with me?”

Silence. He took that as acknowledgment he had a point, since Reece would never say so. “We’re still okay. Our cover’s intact, and unless you have another house somewhere just as secure, this is still the best place for her.”

More silence. Then, grudgingly, “All right. First hint of trouble, we’re pulling you both out.”

“Understood.”

Dead air. Jude winced and lowered the phone. He didn’t know why it still hurt; Reece never said good-bye.

Figures. Even when he tried to be helpful, he managed to fuck things up.

He stood and returned to the house, feeling like he should keep Libby in his sights at all times now. Just in case. He believed what he told Reece—nobody should be able to make the connection between them, and this fortress of a house was the best place for her.

Still…

He didn’t make it past the kitchen. The flower he’d left for Libby on the counter was gone. He spent a moment searching the floor, the sink, anywhere it could have dropped. Then he spotted the trash can against the wall, its lid open.