Wilde at Heart (Wilde Security, #3) by Tonya Burrows
Chapter One
He shouldn’t be here.
Scratch that. He abso-fucking-lutely should not be here.
Even as the thought tracked through Reece Wilde’s head, he pushed open The Bean Gallery’s front door. 9:00 p.m. on New Year’s Eve, and the coffeehouse was dead silent. Its tables, each depicting a different famous painting, sat empty of the usual eclectic crowd of patrons. No college students cramming for exams. No hipsters philosophizing over lattes. And certainly no businessmen stopping for a convenient caffeine fix before their next meeting.
That was how he’d discovered this place. Just a quick stop between back-to-back morning meetings to re-caffeinate before back-to-back afternoon meetings.
And this was where he first saw Shelby Bremer, the woman who held a starring role in his every sexual fantasy for the past several months. The woman who was so fucking far off-limits, she might as well have the words “access denied” tattooed on her forehead.
When they first met, she’d been a patron here, eating breakfast over in the corner at the table painted like Van Gogh’s Starry Night. Reece glanced over at that table now. Someone had stacked the chairs on top of it in preparation for closing time, but he could still see her sitting there so clearly, the image of her short skirt and combat boots seared into his mind like a brand. Normally, he wouldn’t have given a woman with pink-streaked blond hair, tattoo sleeves, and an eyebrow ring a second glance, but there was something about her that fascinated him. As he’d waited in line for his coffee, he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her. When she noticed him staring and blew him a kiss with her middle finger, a switch had flipped inside his head, and his viciously repressed sex drive roared to life. Everything in him demanded he take her, dominate her, bend her over that badly painted table and leave his handprint on her ass for that saucy gesture of defiance. The need had been so instant, so intense, it scared the ever-loving hell out of him, and he’d scrammed as soon as he had his coffee in hand.
But he’d come back. Day after day. She was always at the same table, and she’d started watching for him, a spark of interest and heat in her blue eyes. Although they had never said a word to each other, he’d all but given in to the inevitability of the two of them fucking sooner or later. And for the first time in a very long time, that idea didn’t make him want to run in the opposite direction.
Then he’d found out she was his brother’s fiancée’s sister.
Which was exactly why he shouldn’t be here.
Shelby worked at The Bean Gallery now, and she had the closing shift tonight.
Not that he was stalking her or anything like that. Just keeping tabs at the request of his brother. Eva—his soon-to-be sister-in-law—constantly worried her half sister’s impulsive nature would lead to Shelby hurting herself or burning down the house, and whatever Eva worried about worried Cam. So Cam had recruited his brothers to covertly keep an eye on Shelby.
And this visit was just Reece’s brotherly duty. Just like all the others.
Right.
His fantasies hadn’t ended just because Cam had asked him to keep tabs on Eva’s little sister. Hell, if anything, the request had only revved him up because now, not only was Shelby something exciting and exotic, but she was forbidden. The hacker in him loved the forbidden. He couldn’t look at the woman without wanting to strip her naked and taste every tattoo on her body, and Cam sure as hell wouldn’t consider that a brotherly duty.
Voices floated out of the back room, and Reece stopped short, caught by his own indecision halfway between the door and counter.
He should leave.
Yeah. Leaving would be a good plan, because he had no logical reason to be standing here other than the fact he couldn’t stay away. And if he didn’t leave now, he wasn’t going to until he got a taste of Shelby and put this goddamn uncharacteristic infatuation with her to rest.
He didn’t move.
One of the other baristas appeared first, a middle-aged woman with gray-streaked brown hair and brown skin baked to cracking. Reece vaguely recalled her name was something like Jane or Jenna, but he’d never exchanged more than a few pleasantries with her. The second to emerge was Stephanie, a sweet, bubbly college student who worked at the coffeehouse part time. She was ready for a New Year’s party in a glittery dress that covered about as much skin as a Band-Aid. Sky-high shoes dangled from her fingers. She was young, but she had class in spades. Give her five years and she’d grow into the kind of woman Reece should be interested in, the kind of woman his ultra-conservative business associates would approve of. Instead, all of his focus zeroed in on the woman trailing Stephanie through the door.