Wilde Heart (Wilde Women Book 2) (41 page)

“Tell her everything. All of it. The picture circulating
Passion.
Shayne’s involvement. How she came to be injured. Kim’s threats to me. She deserves to know, Roman.”

“Boss, you sure? I know you like this girl but . . .”

“Oh, for god’s sake, Bishop. Stop trying to play a player.
Like
left the building when Elvis did.”

He heard a rumbling chuckle and gritted his teeth. “Are you laughing at me?”

“Oh, most definitely. Want me to pave the way, hmm? Jesus. The shit I do for you.”

“Not too late to gag on my dick, you asshole,” Liam murmured. Roman’s burst of laughter brought a smile. An actual goddamn smile.

“Well, this is certainly an interesting turn of events.” He heard his bodyguard chuckle. “Why, I do believe I’m the one holding all the cards at the moment. Interesting.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Just that you want me to tell her all your nasty secrets and her, well . . . she doesn’t realize it yet, but I know where all of her bones are buried, too. Okay, maybe not all the bones but certainly more than you are aware of.”

“Are you fucking with me?”

“Yep. Gotta get my jollies somehow.”

Liam considered all the ramifications of Rhiann actually having skeletons and didn’t like the implication.

“What sorts of things are you referring to? Anything that can get her into real trouble?”

Roman laughed again. “You’ve met her, right? And yet you ask if Princess Snarks-a-Lot flirts with trouble.
Dude.
Think about what you just asked. The girl ‘fesses up at the checkout stand if she nibbles on a strawberry before they’re weighed.”

Hu
mph.
No surprise there. “Princess Snarks-a-Lot?”

“Yeah. Fits—don’t you think? Your lady gives good snarkasm.”

“Bishop,” he snarled in warning.

“Cool your jets, Boss. Just yanking your chain because you guys make it so easy. Watching you two try to outmaneuver each other is an ass-ton of fun. Especially since she has the upper hand. But as far as those skeletons go—I figure you’ll be confronted with them soon enough. Confession time is looming for both of you so I sure as shit hope you’re ready.”

“Ward,” Liam mumbled acknowledging his most putrid skeleton.

“Got it in one, although I should kick your sorry ass for making me dig all that shit up on my own. A little honesty woulda’ helped, y’know. I can’t protect you if I don’t know what the fuck is going on.”

“Was in the past. Over and done with . . .”

“Liam,” Roman barked. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Whoa. First Marjorie and now Roman spitting his given name at him. The walls were coming down and rather than be annoyed, Liam found a sliver of comfort. These two people were more than employees. They obviously cared about him as he did them.

“I can do the math, too. You hired me
before
all that went down. At the time, I figured you were smartening up—realizing that a man in your position needed someone to run interference. Maybe you should have let me in on what was really happening. Suppose Ward found his balls and tried to come back at you?”

“He didn’t know until it was over.”

“Still should have told me. There’s stuff on the floor that you know nothing about.”

“Okay. Enough!” Liam was ready to hit something in frustration. Secrets about Rhiann? And now something, anything, about Adam Ward?

“Out with it, Bishop,” he snarled. “If you have something on me or Rhiann, I want to know.”

“You have enough on your plate as it is and where Miss Wilde’s secrets are concerned, they’re on a need to know basis. But since you won’t let this rest, I’ll drop a little bombshell about Adam Ward and then step back so I’m out of the line of fire.”

“Waiting . . .”

“Just remember, Boss. Don’t shoot the messenger.”

“Pretty sure you’re safe,” Liam grumbled.

“You aren’t Adam Ward’s only fuck-fruit.”

“Excuse me?”
Shit. Was that his head about to explode?

“You have a half-sister.”

H
IS KISSES WERE FIERCE AND hungry, taking her places she could barely wrap her mind around. Even then, before the money, before the power—he had an omniscient presence that dazzled her. He knew how not to just arouse her senses but other things, too. Like how to bend her to his will; reducing her to a trembling, moaning, needy creature dependent on his touch to live.

How many nights had she lain awake, crying into the darkness for him? The slow burn of desire he’d awakened in her responded to his touch and his touch alone. It was . . .
her downfall.
She didn’t want to need him as she did. Didn’t want to long so desperately for his possession. But she did.

Was he her other half? The sort she often read about and even wrote about in her stories? Their coupling had been magical to a much younger and even more naïve Rhiann. Primitive at times and always intoxicating, her mind unleashed a torrent of memories that wrapped around her as she slept.

The way he touched her made Rhiann crave more. His mouth, gentle at first, became fiercely possessive. Hot panting breaths on her naked skin, her nipples peaking almost painfully—begging for his attention. And oh, my god—the way his tongue licked the tight little buds until she cried out for more. The sound of his satisfied grunt right before he’d draw the sensitive nub into his mouth for a suckling that sent arrows of pleasure straight to her core. He always knew what she needed and never failed to give her more.

Her subconscious had a supporting role in this dream—stepping from the shadows to remind her that she’d been judging him harshly. Hadn’t she been the one to beg for more? Liam’s insistence that they wait until all the ghosts from the past had been once and for all laid to rest along with her fears and confusion for the events in the present meant something, right? If all he’d been after was sex . . .

Rhiann’s eyes slowly opened to a room illuminated by moonlight. Liam Ashforth was worth . . . well, he was worth more than she could comprehend. Women would fall all over themselves for a chance to be with him. Wealth, power, social standing—powerful aphrodisiacs in today’s world, but she’d had a taste of the man within the tycoon, and though she tried to pretend otherwise, the love she had for the scowling man in the three-piece suit remained as strong and hypnotic as ever.

Shuffling from her room after washing the sleep from her face, she wondered where Roman was and what he was up to. After hearing the way he and Liam interacted, she was relieved that the serious ex-Marine showed an obvious affection for his boss. Something that went beyond their formal arrangement. Knowing Liam had an honest-to-god friend in his corner eased her mind.

The sound of explosions and cursing split the air and she smiled. He was in the theater room watching some bang bang shoot ’em up guy film. Typical.

Padding softly down the stairs, she paused outside the room to gather her thoughts. Roman had some explaining to do, and she planned to make him stay put until she got some freakin’ answers.

As she swung into the room, Roman looked up and gave her an assessing once-over. Muting the movie, he threw the remote aside and smirked.

“Feel better now that you’ve slept it off, Princess?”

Leaning on the door jam, she shrugged and scraped her foot back and forth. “Yes and no,” she told him.

She was close enough that when he suddenly reached out and grabbed her arm, Rhiann propelled forward as he guided her to the plush recliner next to him.

His deep, male voice held absolutely no mockery or attempt to deceive when he said, “You have questions. I have answers. Fire away but you should know first that nothing is easy or neat in this situation so I’d appreciate you reserving your reactions till we’ve reached the end, okay?”

Her eyebrow arched in silent dismay. Shit. No more beating around the bush. He was right. Time for answers. Now where to begin?

The next day unfolded in absolute silence with Roman quietly watching her every move, trying no doubt to read her mood. Now that she knew it all, she understood why he’d been so stingy when it came to being forthcoming with her. The whole thing reeked of fiasco, and if it weren’t for the fact that there was real and not imagined danger all around them, she would have played down most of what she’d learned.

It wasn’t until after he’d actually shown her the photo going around
Passion
that she crumbled.

“My memory stick,” she’d groaned. “I knew it! Knew it wasn’t lost. That bitch took it.”

After getting her side of the story, something she admitted was akin to pulling out a splinter from the finger of a hysterical child, he’d immediately put on his bodyguard hat, relaying the new information she’d provided to his team.

Since then . . . silence. Rhiann was too lost in her thoughts to engage in meaningless conversation for the sake of filling in the blank spaces.

And he hadn’t just told her things about Liam and BPG and the complications of having a CFO go off the reservation on a vendetta that could at any minute turn deadly. No—he’d also informed her that he knew rather a lot about the secret double life she’d been leading.

Damn.
That Cameron Justice dude was good. He’d not only found out about her little adventure in self-publishing, but he also knew quite a bit about some random stupid shit that she’d gotten herself into during her last year in college. None of it was a big deal and all of it could be chalked up to the devastating aftermath of Liam tossing her aside that only got worse once he’d finished the master’s program and gone out to conquer the world.

Had she been stupid and careless? Yes. Was it anything she should be embarrassed about now? No. All of it was filed away neatly under College Coed Shenanigans. Just irked the shit out of her that her life was so easy to access. Since apparently nothing was off-limits, they probably knew when she got her period, too.

After hitting SEND on a lengthy email to Amy with a brief apology for going radio silent, she’d found the courage at last to call Brynn for an emotional confessional that went way better than she ever imagined. By the end of the conversation, Rhi had to wonder just what she’d been so afraid of all this time.

They’d ended up laughing like hell when her sister looked up her author page and teased her unmercifully about the pen name she chose, saying no one was going to get a bigger kick out of Rhi’s undercover life than their nana.

With the weight of the secrets she’d been lugging around lifted, Rhiann was feeling so much better about things. Now that she’d cleaned the slate with Brynn, she’d be better able to think clearer where Liam was concerned.

Pushing the laptop aside, she stood and stretched out the kinks leftover from sitting cross-legged in the middle of her big bed for far too long. Sliding her wrist once again into the soft brace, she secured the Velcro straps. Tomorrow, she planned to start the physical therapy exercises the local orthopedist had suggested when he’d removed the hard cast.

Leaving the bedroom, she headed to the kitchen for something to munch on when she heard a ruckus coming from the middle floor. Angry voices echoed up the stairwell, and without thinking, she flew toward the commotion. Her feet barely touched the stairs; she was so intent on rescuing her rescuer from whatever confrontation was unfolding at her front door.