Wilde Rapture

Chapter One

“Why do people lose all sense at a wedding?” Nia Hudson stepped deeper into the alcove she had found, away from the madness.

“Makes them want to grab on to their singlehood and appreciate it as much as they can. Personally, I like weddings,” a deep, masculine voice said from her right.

Nia backed away, hand automatically going to her side. She cursed silently, realising she didn’t have her gun. No wonder she felt naked. She resisted yanking up the bodice of the bridesmaid’s dress she wore. The amount of cleavage it showed was ridiculous. The man stepped a little more into the minimal light the alcove offered.

She categorised his description as a cop would. Age about late thirties. Height approximately six feet four. Weight approximately one hundred and ninety pounds of lean muscle. No visible scars. Sun-kissed skin, hair inky-black, eye colour blue. Facial description—broad forehead, narrow nose, sharply defined cheeks, slightly rounded chin and full lips.

Nia the woman appreciated the way his skin looked so soft, lickable, and biteable. All his features put together made for a compelling man who should be marked, ‘Danger—get ready to ravish’. Thick, black, curling lashes and heavy eyebrows made his blue eyes—more like cerulean—seemed almost celestial. They made you think he was an angel…but the look in those eyes was pure devil. His hair was braided and rested over one broad shoulder, down to mid-chest.

He moved with a fluid grace that screamed confidence and a seemingly old-world charm. The man leaned against the wall of the alcove, leaving enough space that she didn’t feel crowded. A small grin spread across his full mouth. It made her want to kiss him, sink her tongue between his lips to see how he tasted.

Snap out of it. This is not like you.

Something about this stranger made her imagine lowering her guard and having him every which way and in any place they could think of. The long lines of his body made her wonder how strong and flexible he would be in bed. Nia pushed the thoughts away and took a step towards the entrance to the alcove, intending to escape.

“Don’t flee. I’ll go. Leave you to your privacy.” His sensuous voice in the semi-dark held her still.

Biting her lip, Nia stifled a moan. She straightened her shoulders. She was a cop…a homicide detective, for Christ’s sake. Some man…a stranger…would not make her run.

Being a cop isn’t the issue. It’s the woman who wants to jump him and tell him to take you now—and to hell with the people around who might find you.

Nia gulped. She wasn’t one for public sex. Privacy, where you could take your time and explore, was more her thing. Blowing out a soft breath, she moved back into the alcove and stood next to him. His scent surrounded her. She couldn’t place the fragrance. It reminded her of something wild, untamed, and mysterious. She glanced at him. Sort of like the man himself. He was watching her, those blue eyes delving deep to see all she was.

Nia shook off the fanciful notion.

“Why do you like weddings?” she asked.

“Shows you what finding your other half can bring. Happiness and contentment.” He smiled.

“Heartache and pain,” she countered.

“Ah…a cynic.”

“Not cynicism. Realism. Most people hide things—things relevant to a relationship. That leads to hurt, pain, and misunderstanding…then, eventually, divorce and bitterness.” Nia shrugged.

“Sometimes things about a person can’t be revealed so easily. It takes trust and a closeness of souls.”

“By the time you’re committed to each other, ready to walk down the aisle to pledge yourself to someone, you should already have shared those things,” Nia stated firmly.

“If I was ready for that, I
would
share them…then pledge myself to her.” His voice was intense.

She stifled a shiver. “You’re a romantic,” she mocked.

“Yes. And, although you might hide it, so are you. You believe in love, but try to convince yourself that you don’t,” was his calm reply.

Nia stiffened. “You don’t know me.”

“Not yet. But I plan to.” His reply dripped arrogance.

“We don’t always get what we want,” she said.

“Usually, I do. When you’re ready to explore, come find me.” The man straightened.

Nia bit back a gasp. His frame towered over her own full-figured, six-foot body. He raised a hand to the side of her face. Nia waited to see what he would do. She could feel the heat of his palm, but he didn’t close that miniscule distance to actually touch her. He lowered his hand. She could imagine the feel of his long fingers on her body. Her pussy clenched, then dampened. He raised his head and inhaled deeply. Nia was grateful there was no way for him to smell her arousal through all her clothing.

“I’ll be waiting for you.” He walked backward, away from her, his eyes locked on hers.

Only the blue of his gaze was visible for a moment, then his lids closed over his eyes. Instinct told her he was gone. Shakily, Nia leaned on the wall. Inhaling and exhaling deeply, she tried to control the shakes she was having. She raised her hand and touched the aching tips of her nipples. Glancing up, she noted that the party was still in full swing. No one seemed aware of the encounter she’d just had.

“There you are, hiding in the corner. You’re a bridesmaid. No hiding allowed,” said a melodious voice with a lyrical accent.

Nia quickly lowered her hands.

“I’m not hiding, Gabe,” she said defensively.

She had been—at least until the intriguing encounter with the man. Nia scowled, realising she didn’t even know his name.

How the hell am I supposed to find him if I don’t know his name?

Nia bit the inside of her cheek. Nope. She wasn’t going to try to find him. Men like him were trouble. They never understood that her job came first.

“You are. Now make room for me.” Gabriella Kane scooted in beside her.

Nia laughed at her friend’s antics. Gabriella leaned next to her. She plucked at her dress. Most of the bridesmaids’ dresses were pale yellow with a sweetheart neckline and lots of flounce. As maids of honour, Gabriella’s and Nia’s had the sweetheart neckline, but were A-line, complementing their full-figured frames. When they had been asked to be joint maids of honour, they had pointed out that usually there was just one. Then they’d each tried to convince the bride that the other would be better suited to the role. Gabriella and Nia were anti-social. They both preferred hanging out at one of their apartments and watching TV, reading, or chatting. Only one person could have talked them into being part of a wedding party. Nia glanced at the bride and groom dancing on the floor a little distance away.