Wilde Nights in Paradise (Wilde Security #1)

Chapter Eleven

Another flower.

This time, he’d stuck it in the fridge. Getting more creative , Libby thought with a half laugh. Now he was making her seek them out like an Easter egg hunt. Every night she told herself she wouldn’t play along again, and yet every morning, she couldn’t help but peek into cupboards and other hidey-holes…discreetly, of course. At least until he went out for his swim. Then she turned the house upside down, searching. No way would she let him know that she actively sought out the flowers or that a little thrill went through her every time she found one.

Today’s pick was a beautiful bluish-purple, the blossom as big as her fist. She pulled it out of the fridge and underneath it…

“Oh my God.”

Her book! The one she’d dropped in the pool when the iguana paid them that unwelcome visit. Here it sat between the milk and a pitcher of ice tea, a brand new copy, the dust jacket all shiny and clean. Where had he gotten it? He hadn’t left the house…except for the three times he ran out to the front gate and impatiently checked the mail yesterday.

Sneaky man.

She picked up the book, let the fridge door fall shut, and ran her fingers over the cover. This, she hadn’t expected from him. He wasn’t an insightful or thoughtful man. How had he known that once the burn of embarrassment and fear over the iguana ordeal wore off, she most regretted the loss of her book?

Libby set the book aside and turned her attention to the flower. It was so hard to stay annoyed at him when he pulled stunts like this. Twirling the stem between her fingers, she drifted over to the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the garden and tried to spot the plant it had come from. She had to give him credit for his stubborn perseverance. Any other man would have given up on this game by now.

After one last indulgent sniff of its petals, she smiled and tossed the flower in the trash. But the book…that she would keep. No sense in letting a good book go to waste, even if it was to prove her point.

Although, to be honest, she couldn’t quite remember what exactly her initial point had been.

…

Jude watched through the window as Libby searched for and found his gifts in the fridge. She picked up the flower and buried her nose in its fragrant petals. For a second, just a sliver of time as she stood there, highlighted by a sunbeam with the flower in her hand and a secret smile curving her lips, hope had buzzed through his head and quickened his pulse.

Maybe this time…

But, no. She turned away from the window, stepped on the pedal of the trash can to open the lid, and tossed the flower just like all the others.

“Fuck.” Jude shook his head and let himself have a moment to sulk. She had to be the most unromantically inclined woman ever. What was it going to take to get by all of her defenses?

But then he noticed her pick up the book he’d asked Camden to buy and overnight to him with Seth’s name on the box. He’d had a helluva time talking his brother into it, but the way she hugged that book to her chest made it worth the fight. Hot damn. She was finally keeping something he’d given her. Why that made him want to dance, he didn’t know, but he indulged in the urge and executed a tap-tap-slide around the pool that would have had his mother beaming with pride.

“Nice moves, Slick.”

He spun and grinned at Libby. “Yeah?”

She smiled as she walked out onto the patio. “Seriously, I’m impressed. You can really dance. I never knew that about you.”

“Yeah, well, Mom was a dance instructor.” Two swaying steps put him close enough to snatch her into his arms and swing her around to the faint strings of guitar music coming from the beach a block away. “She made all five of us take lessons, always said a real man knew his way around a dance floor.”

“And you lived through high school?”

“Yeah. I even made it cool.”

“You would.”

“Hey, it was a great way to pick up chicks.”

She smacked his chest, but even that didn’t dampen his mood. He spun her, dipped her. When she straightened, her hair fell out of its clip and into her eyes.

She was laughing. “You are in a scary good mood all of a sudden.”

By tacit agreement, neither of them ever mentioned the flowers, so he just grinned and spun her again. “I’d love to take you dancing for real sometime. We’re good together in bed—no, don’t get all huffy. Just stating a fact. We’re good in bed, so we’d be dynamite on a dance floor.”

“If I didn’t have two left feet.”

“Nah, that’s not true.”

She gave a disbelieving laugh. “I practically killed myself and everyone within five feet of me the one and only time I ever tried Zumba.”

“You’re just underpracticed.” With one hand on the small of her back, he drew her into him until their bodies touched from chest to thigh. Swayed with her. She was inflexible as a rod at first, tense but not fighting him. He took that as a good sign and did the relaxing for her, closing his eyes and letting the soft chords of the guitar sink into his bones until the music guided his movements.

Slowly, ever so slowly, she loosened up, and her hips joined the rhythm of his. She melted into him, her arms around his waist, her head resting on his chest…and they fit. Just like his parents had when they used to dance across the kitchen, each body instinctively recognizing its missing half in the other.

Christ, why hadn’t he noticed it before? Why hadn’t she? It was so obvious.

The music stopped, but he didn’t let go. There would be more soon. There was always music in Key West.

But at the sudden silence, she lifted her head from his chest. Dazed brown eyes blinked up at him, and every ounce of tension that had drained out of her poured back in—he felt her spine tense under his hand.

He tightened his grip and drew her tighter against him, lowered his head and found her mouth. His ever-present lust for her tried to turn the kiss into something hard and hungry, but that wasn’t what she needed right now. Anything too rough or demanding would make her balk, so he consciously worked to soften his mouth. He kissed her with a dreamy intimacy, trying to show her with his lips all the things that he’d ever felt when it came to her but could never voice.

She wound her arms around his waist and kissed him back, her mouth soft and sweet until she changed the angle and took over. She plundered and claimed, curling her fingers into his hair, branding him with the intensity of her sudden, flaring need. Blood pounded from his brain into his cock, and he lost all sense of himself. He was Libby’s man, and his only purpose in life was to give her pleasure.

Right. Now.

Panting, she broke away from the kiss. “Oh shit.”

No, not yet. This perfect moment couldn’t end yet.

Jude sucked in a breath and lowered his head again, intent on finding her mouth with his and reminding her of exactly how good they were together. How right.

She turned away, gave him her cheek instead of her soft lips, then pushed against his chest when he drew back.

Yup, the moment was over.

After an internal struggle of epic proportions, he let her go and dropped his arms to his sides.

“Libby.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say, couldn’t find the words.

She backed away so fast he was surprised she didn’t trip over anything. “I’m going to make lunch,” she said in a breezy tone, the subtext of which clearly stated that the last few minutes were off limits as far as conversation went. Before he managed a reply, she all but sprinted into the house.

Hell no. She wasn’t going to pretend nothing happened. He wouldn’t let her get away with it, not when he felt like his world had been rocked to its foundation. Whether she liked it or not, they fit together.

Jude dipped a hand in his pocket to rub the ever-present ring. Yeah, they fit . And she’d kept the book.