Wilde Nights in Paradise (Wilde Security #1)

Chapter Nineteen

Jude was in an excellent mood. A day of playing tourist, soaking in the sun and natural beauty of the Keys, followed by sex…

Oh, man, the sex. The off-the-charts-hot sex.

It was all exactly what he’d needed and he suspected, what Libby had needed, too—although he bet she’d never admit it.

He smiled to himself and spared a glance for her, sound asleep in the passenger seat, her cheek pillowed in her hand against the window. Her hair had frizzed from their swim and the soaking they got from an evening storm as they raced across the marina parking lot for their car. He resisted the urge to reach over and soothe down the sun-kissed locks. Made himself focus on the road, but found his hand wandering from the steering wheel to rest on her thigh. She stirred but didn’t wake, and he smiled again.

Now the rain tap-danced on the roof of the convertible and lightning zigzagged in the distance over the ocean as the car sailed the Overseas Highway toward home.

Jude felt better than he had in days. Sure, his back was sunburned all to hell—damn Libby for being right about the sunscreen—but even that discomfort couldn’t put a damper on his mood.

Damn near perfect day.

He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this light, this free. He could become addicted to this. To her. Maybe he already was.

Unable to resist, he sneaked another peek her way. Deep in sleep, she looked completely at peace—no worry lines etched into her forehead, no trace of the sour grapes pinched expression around her mouth. She needed to sleep more, work less, and play more, he decided and then snorted as he imagined her response to that suggestion. But someone had to apply the brakes on the race car that was Elizabeth Pruitt or she was going to burn out her engine. After this was all over, he’d talk her into a worry-free day like today at least once a week. She carried way too much stress and—

Whoa. What? After this was over? Goddammit, he was an idiot for even considering an “after” with her. No chance. Hadn’t she told him as much the night she started their affair?

It was sex. No emotions. No strings attached. No after. And he’d gone along with it because he was just desperate enough to be with her that he’d take her any way he could. Except an affair had never been what he wanted when it came to Libby. He’d loved her and had wanted the whole package the night he proposed eight years ago. Libby in a white dress, vowing to stay with him forever. Her pregnant with his two-point-five children. The quaint house with the white picket fence, dog, and minivan.

Loved? No, he was lying to himself. Love, present tense. It was still there, strong as ever, just like their ring in his pocket. But he’d be damned before he told her. She wouldn’t accept those words from him anyway. He’d hurt her too badly, which had been his goal, and he’d done a bang-up job of it. Hurt her to protect her. Wasn’t he just noble as fuck?

Uh-uh. And after this was over, she would go back to her life and he to his. That would be the end of it. He just wasn’t sure if he’d be able to glue the pieces of his life back together again once she was gone.

Far less cheerful than he had been moments before, he lifted his hand off her thigh and focused all of his concentration on the road. Headlights hit his rearview mirror with the blinding force of laser beams. Where the fuck had this car come from? They were on a two-lane road out in the middle of the ocean with no on- or off-ramps. Unless the driver had been going at least twenty above the speed limit—and who would risk that in this rain?—then that car had been following them from the get-go. A chill of awareness shot through Jude’s blood, and he fumbled in the center console for his phone.

Libby lifted her head, rubbed at the back of her neck, and squinted out the windshield. “Wow, it’s really raining now.” Yawning, she looked over at him. “What are you doing?”

“Find my phone. It’s in there somewhere.”

She twisted in her seat and dug through the compartment with maddening care.

“Faster.”

“What’s your hurry?”

He forced himself to keep his gaze on the road ahead of him. “I need to check my messages.”

“Ugh. Impatient, much? Hang on.” More digging around. “Here. Found it.” She swiped at the screen with her thumb. “You have a missed call from someone with the initials W.S.”

“Wilde Security. My brothers.” Another glance in the rearview showed the car had backed off a bit, but was still riding too damn close. “Get into the voice mail.” He told her his access code and waited, palm held out for the phone. She never handed it over.

“Oh my God. Jude, listen.” Her hand shook as she lowered the phone from her ear and pressed the speaker button. Greer’s voice came on the line, booming in the small car.

“…and Cam’s source claims K-Bar hasn’t been seen in a couple days. We have to assume he’s found you, and he’s headed your way. Call me as soon as you get this, and we’ll come up with an exfil plan to get you two the hell out of there. Take every precaution and don’t let Libby out of your sight.”

“Oh my God,” Libby said again. “Are you going to call him?”

Jude lifted his eyes to the rearview. Car was still on their ass, too close for comfort on a nearly empty road in a torrential downpour. He shook his head. “No. If we move you, he’ll just find you again. The safest place for you is Seth’s house. We just have to lose him before we get there.”

“ What ?”

He tilted his head toward the car. “Behind us. Pretty sure he was tailing us with his headlights off until the rain got too heavy to see the road without them. Hang on. We gotta get to civilization before him. It’s our only shot.”

As he floored the gas, Libby folded her arms around herself. “This can’t be happening.”

“It may be nothing,” he reminded her. “I may just be a paranoid bastard, and if that’s the case, we can laugh about it later. I have trouble believing K-Bar got around all of my brothers’ security measures and found you, but I’m not taking any more chances.”

…

After abandoning the car with a valet at a busy hotel, she and Jude nipped through the lobby, took a side exit, and made a mad dash through parking lots and private yards until they reached a street teeming with tourists who weren’t the least bit daunted by the now-light drizzle of rain. Music floated from the bars lining the street—everything from the mellow tones of an acoustic solo artist to bands blasting covers of popular songs. Chickens pecked along the sidewalk, as undaunted by the crowd as the crowd was by the rain. Jude pulled her past a colorfully dressed busker sitting on the street corner strumming a guitar and playing a tambourine with his foot. Both the man and the old hound sitting patiently at his side wore sunglasses and pirate hats.

Key West. This place was something else.

They slipped into a cozy shop, and Jude hustled her past shelves stuffed with seashell trinkets, snow globes, and cheap jewelry. He grabbed things off the racks as he went, then yanked her into a curtained dressing room. Spinning her toward him, he hiked her shirt over her head before she realized what he was doing.

“Jude, what the hell? We’re being followed! We don’t have time to screw around in a dressing room.”

“Interesting idea for another time,” he said. “But right now, you need to change.” Using his teeth, he broke the tag off a colorful sarong-like dress and shoved it at her, then quickly shed his own wet clothes. Paying no attention to his nakedness, he ripped off the tags on a pair of khaki shorts and a T-shirt that featured a beer bottle sitting under a palm tree and declared “I Heart Key West, Florida” in green letters.

“C’mon, Libs. Hurry.” With that, he dressed and left the fitting room with the price tags in hand. She peeked out, saw him snag a baseball cap and a big floppy hat, his eyes always scanning the windows at the front of the shop, studying the passing crowd on Duval Street. He set the ball cap on his head and smiled charmingly at the cashier as he paid. When he returned a few minutes later, he carried a plastic bag labeled with the shop’s name and started stuffing his wet clothes into it.

“Libby, move. Let’s go.”

She changed into the dress and donned the floppy hat he handed her, then stuffed her own wadded clothes into the bag. “Now what?”

“We’re James and Liza Wilson, honeymooners out for a night on Duval Street. Nothing more.”

“But what about K-Bar? If he—”

“I’m about 98.9 percent sure we lost him before we ditched the car, but we’re gonna stay out, mix in with the crowd for a bit, take a cab to the other side of the island, then hoof it to Seth’s. It’s going to be a long night.”

Numbly, she nodded.

He caught her head in his hands, made her meet his gaze. “I know this place better than I know D.C. He doesn’t. We have the advantage.”

“I just want to go back to the pool and the cat and your laundry all over the floor. I want to be safe.”

“I know.” With more tenderness than she thought he possessed, he brushed his lips across her forehead. “I know, babe. And we will, but I have to make sure the house stays safe first, okay?” His hands dropped to her shoulders, rubbed. “You can do this, Libby. You’re a strong, smart, independent woman.”

“I don’t feel like it. I’m scared.” It seemed like she’d been scared forever, ever since she received the first doll, but this was the first time she’d allowed herself to admit it to anyone. “I really am. Terrified.”

“It’s foolish not to be.”

“You’re not.”

“Like hell I’m not.” He dazzled her with one of his grins. “I’m just damn good at playing pretend. Now let me see the blushing bride, Liza Wilson. What does she do?”

Libby drew in a breath, straightened her shoulders. “Teacher,” she decided.

“Yeah? What grade?”

“Kindergarten.”

“Sounds like a headache.”

“No, it’s fun. She loves—No, wait.” Cursing under her breath, she corrected herself with as much conviction in her tone as she could muster, “ I love it.”

“Perfect,” Jude said. “And what about James?”

“He’s….” She thought about it, then smiled evilly up at him. “An accountant.”

“Now that’s just cruel. And c’mon, who would believe I spend my days crunching numbers?” With a hand on her lower back, he guided her out of the dressing room. He waved at the cashier as they exited the store. “What about a shark wrangler?”

Okay. Time to get into character for real. Forcing herself not to study every face in the crowd, she slid and arm around his waist. “My dear husband, the only shark you can wrangle is the plastic one in our pool.”

“Hey.” He stopped, whirled her around, and fitted her against his body. “I wrangled you, didn’t I?” As his lips dipped down to brush hers, he added in a whisper, “You’re talking way too loud and sound like you’re reciting a script. Just relax, babe. Pretend we don’t have anyone after us, and I’m someone you actually love.”

Her stomach sank into her toes. Someone she loved. Oh, yeah, like that was going to be hard, considering the only man she’d ever loved besides her father stood in front of her with his arms tightly around her and concern in his pale blue eyes.

“Okay.” She swallowed down the lump rising in her throat and offered a weak smile. “I can do that. I’ll just picture Robert Downey Jr.”

And like that the worry vanished and his eyes narrowed as a scowl creased his forehead. “You love Robert Downey Jr.?”

“Who doesn’t?”

Grumbling under his breath, Jude clasped her hand and guided her into the nighttime party crowd on Duval Street.