Wilde Nights in Paradise (Wilde Security #1)

Chapter Thirteen

“Another glass already?”

Libby glared up at him as he walked into the kitchen from the living room, where he’d been watching TV. Then, just to be pissy, she dumped more of the wine into her glass. He held up his hands in surrender. “Just asking.”

“It’s not like I have any work to do. I’m on vacation .”

He exhaled. “You’re going to be pissed about that for days, aren’t you?”

“Hmm.” She swirled her wine, pretended to consider it. “Yeah, I think so. And you owe me a new phone.”

He waved a dismissive hand and disappeared into the bedroom. Impossible man. Impossible, frustrating man. With a shake of her head, she stuffed the cork back into the neck of the wine bottle and returned to her seat at the kitchen island, where she’d left her book open on the countertop. She started reading, intent on sinking back into the words and forgetting about him for a while, but a thump from the bedroom drew her attention. Another thunk. An exclamation.

What the hell was he doing in there?

She stood and made it halfway to the hall when he reappeared with a box in his hands. He breezed past her and deposited his cargo on the dining table in the open area between the kitchen and living room.

As she moved to his side, she got a good look at the box. “Battleship?”

“My favorite. I knew Seth had some board games stashed away somewhere from when his family used to use this place as a vacation house, but I didn’t think I’d find this one. Wanna play?”

“Seriously?”

“We don’t have anything else to do,” he said with mock gravity. “We’re on vacation.”

“Yes, ha-ha, throw my words back at me. You’re so clever. Let’s all laugh.” She traced her nail along the edge of the old, beat-up box. “I haven’t played this since I was… I don’t know. Ten?”

“Really?” Jude seemed genuinely surprised as he opened the box and handed her one of the game boards. “The twins and I play all the time. It’s our go-to game when we’re bored.”

“But…you’re adults.”

“So?” With that, he pulled out a chair, sat down, and focused on placing his ships. She watched him for a moment, amazed at the pure enjoyment he got out of finding the perfect position for each of his game pieces. He muttered to himself—a mix of “hmm” and “nope” and “ah-ha!” until he was finally satisfied and gazed up. He frowned when he realized she still hadn’t opened her board. “You don’t want to play?”

Sighing, she gave in. Like he said, it wasn’t as if she had anything else to do. She retrieved her wine from the island, then sat down across from him. Opening her board, she took considerably less time placing her ships.

His frown only deepened. “You’re supposed to strategize. That’s part of the fun.”

“I did.”

He made a face.

“I did!” she insisted.

“Uh-huh. You’re making this too easy.”

“I am not!”

“All right, then how about we up the ante?”

“I’m not betting on a children’s game.”

“No betting. Well, not really.” A smile—that damned quicksilver grin she found so appealing—twitched at the corner of his mouth. “More like…strip poker. Or in this case, Battleship.”

She stared at him.

“What?” he asked, all blue-eyed innocence. “It’ll make things interesting. I get a hit, you take off a piece of clothing.”

“And vice versa?” she asked.

He chuckled. “Always the negotiating lawyer, huh?”

“It’s not fair if the rules only apply to me.”

“All’s fair in love and Battleship.”

“Uh-huh.” She picked up her wineglass and pushed away from the table. “I’m not playing.”

“Ah, c’mon, Libs. I was joking. Of course the strip rule applies to me, too. It wouldn’t be fun otherwise.”

Libby knew she was dancing too close to the fire, but the wine was a warm, heavy buzz in her head, muffling the little voice inside her mind that always told her the proper way to act, the right thing to say. In fact, it felt good to ignore that annoying voice. And, besides, she never could resist a challenge.

She returned to her seat. “All right. Deal.”

Jude grinned and waved a hand in a flourish, indicating she should start. “Ladies first.”

“Because you are such a gentleman.”

He waggled his brows. “We already established that I’m most definitely not.”

At the reminder, a hot flush blazed just under the surface of her skin. The wine, she told herself. The sudden jump in the room’s temp was only from the wine. Seeing as she was on her second glass, she should probably slow down.

“Well?” Jude prompted. “Give me your best shot.”

She emptied her glass and pushed it away before studying her game board. “B-four.”

He groaned. “Aw, man. You got—”

“Hah!”

“A miss,” he finished with a laugh. “Gotcha.”

She grabbed a white peg. “You suck.”

“Only when asked, babe.”

Okay, that rush of heat had nothing to do with the alcohol in her system. That was 150 percent pure lust. Her imagination went wild with ideas of places she could ask him to—

Game. They were playing a game. Nothing more.

She forced her attention back to the board, but the next three coordinates she tried were misses. Jude got her cruiser on his second try.

“Pay up,” he said and held out a hand. She reached down and pulled off one of her socks, then held it out to show she had indeed taken off an article of clothing.

He scowled and looked under the table. “Damn. I didn’t know you were wearing those.”

She just smiled sweetly and set the sock aside. “I seem to have the advantage. You’re wearing a lot less than I am.”

“That’s not gonna make any difference.”

“Mmm.” She eyed him over the edge of her game board. “We’ll see.”

“Oh, it’s on now.” He cracked his knuckles and got down to the business of sinking her ships one by one. With each new hit, she lost another article of clothing, but it was sort worth seeing the hitch in his breathing every time she showed a little more skin.

“You sunk my cruiser.” She pouted, but secretly her body thrummed as he sat back with one arm slung across the chair next to him and scanned her with heavy-lidded eyes.

“Shorts,” he said.

“Cocky,” she shot back.

His arm left the back of the chair and dipped beneath the table. “Uh-huh. I am that.”

Her own breath caught at the mental image of what he was doing to himself under there, which made him grin and release his hold on himself.

“Shorts,” he said again.

Oh, he wanted her shorts? Fine. She stood and gave him her back, hooking her thumbs in the elastic waistband. Slowly, so very slowly, she wiggled out of them, then bent over with her ass in the air to take them off her feet. He groaned. Satisfied with that response, she straightened and faced him in just her tank top, one sock, and her panties. Eyes smoldering with barely banked lust, he stared like he was trying to photograph her with his mind. She had to battle the ridiculous urge to throw herself at him and ride him until they broke the chair.

Dammit. She was supposed to be teaching him a lesson with this strip tease, not torturing herself.

She dropped into her seat and finished her wine in a gulp, hoping to cool the wildfire he’d ignited in her, then made herself refocus on the game. “A-eight.”

Even though she wasn’t looking at him, she heard the devastating smile in his voice when he said, “Miss.”

By the time she had only her battleship standing, she’d talked herself into another glass of wine and was feeling flushed despite the fact that she was down to her bra and underwear. She still hadn’t found even one of Jude’s ships.

“You’re cheating,” she insisted, squinting at him through blurry eyes. “Are you moving them around?”

He held up his hands. “I swear I’m not.”

“Uh-huh. Then how come you’re still dressed?”

“I’m just that good. A-six.”

“Hit. Dammit.” She placed the red peg in her battleship, then stared down at herself. Bra or panties? She decided on her bra and reached around to unclasp it, but Jude stopped her.

“Uh-uh,” he said, voice thick. “Panties first.”

“You can’t be serious.”

Heat sparked in his gaze. “Absolutely.”

“Fine.” She stretched out her legs and shimmied out of the panties before balling them up in her hand. She tossed them at him. They bounced off his chest. Laughing, he scooped them up with his finger and waved them like a victory flag. She laughed, too. Couldn’t help it. He looked so damn satisfied with himself.

“I should forfeit,” she told him.

“You won’t.”

“You’re going to win.”

“Yup,” he said, completely unapologetic.

And a moment later he did, sinking the battleship and taking her bra as a prize. She hadn’t scored even one hit against him. How was that possible? She stood and leaned over the table to peek at his board. All of his ships sat stacked one on top of each other.

“You did cheat, you jerk!”

“No, I took a calculated risk. If you had hit one of my ships, you would have hit them all.”

“I demand a rematch!”

He smirked and reached out to trail a finger along the curve of her breast. “You don’t have any more clothes.”

“I’ll play naked.”

“Now that’s an intriguing offer.”

And a stupid one. Why the hell had that popped out of her mouth? It must be a mix of the wine and her competitive nature getting the best of her, and she reeled herself in, sat back down, and crossed her arms over her breasts. “That wasn’t a fair game.”

“Fair enough.”

“Ugh. You’re infuriating.”

“And you’re beautiful.”

That stopped her indignation in its tracks, and she realized he was staring at her like he wanted to lick her all over, all but devouring her with his eyes. Heat bloomed under her skin. Her nudity hadn’t bothered her before, but she didn’t want him to see the flush, didn’t want to let him know how much that languorous sweep of his heavy-lidded blue eyes turned her on. She scrambled to find something to cover herself with, ended up grabbing the thin blanket draped over the back of the nearby couch, and clutched it to herself as she stood.

“We had our one night,” she reminded him, and his easy smile slipped away.

“I’m not satisfied with that.”

“Too bad.”

Jude’s jaw tightened until a tick started in his cheek. “Are you?”

“That was the deal.”

“Forget the damn deal. You know how good we are together, Libby.”

They were good together, but only in bed, and that was the problem. If he were any other man, she’d have indulged in a fling without a thought. Then again, if he were any other man, she wouldn’t have been interested in a fling to begin with. Jude was it for her. The first time they had made love, he’d ruined her for all other men, and she’d made her peace with the fact that she was going to end up a career-focused spinster.

Now here he was again. Back in her life, offering only part of what she truly wanted, and she couldn’t bring herself to take even that. She couldn’t put herself through the heartbreak of falling in love with him again, and she was terrified that she wouldn’t be able to help herself if she spent more than one night with him.

Shaking her head, she backed away. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”