Wilde Rapture (2 page)

“Carmen looks so happy,” Nia said.

“One of the Three Vs is married. Can you believe it?” Gabriella mused.

Nia continued to study the radiant woman dancing with her new husband. One of the three ‘voluptuously sexies’, as Carmen had dubbed them.

Carmen Johnson—now Thompson—was their closest friend. They had all met when they’d started their jobs at around the same time, about twelve years ago—Gabriella as a medical examiner, Carmen as an assistant district attorney and Nia as a new cop. They had all been twenty-five at the time.

Nia smiled, remembering walking into a bar in her neighbourhood for a drink after her first shift. She’d taken a seat at a table. A woman had come in, got a drink, then wandered over to her, asking if she could have a seat. Leery, Nia had hesitated, but the woman—who had introduced herself as Carmen—had taken one anyway. Carmen had mentioned that she had spotted Nia in the neighbourhood, then later at the precinct. Nia found out they actually lived in the same private house, which had three apartments. She hadn’t met her other neighbours yet, having moved in only a few days earlier.

While they were talking, another woman had come in, and Carmen had waved her over and introduced her as Gabriella. On being told what Gabriella did, Nia had commented that Gabriella seemed young to be a medical examiner, since she looked around their age. Gabriella had responded that she had started early, was a little smart, and was years ahead of where most people in her profession would be. Gabriella’s accent had fascinated Nia, and she’d asked where she was from. Gabriella had told her she was originally from St Thomas, in the United States Virgin Islands.

They had talked, bonded, and become friends. Their friendship had spanned all the ups and downs each had encountered in their chosen profession, like when Gabriella had almost been shot removing a body from a crime scene. After that, Nia had taught Gabriella and Carmen how to handle a gun, and how to disarm someone when one was held to your head. They had all been there when Carmen had been taken hostage in a courtroom and got out, thankfully, unhurt. Gabriella and Nia had stayed with Carmen for a few days afterwards, and the nightmares had been vicious. Gabriella and Carmen had been there when Nia had shot and killed her first perp. Any killing, no matter how justified, stuck with you. Their bond of twelve years, of going through all those things together, was what made them the women they were today.

Carmen said something to her new husband, then headed straight towards them.

“Shit. She must be part bloodhound. How the hell did she know where we are? Now she’s going to pull us back out there. I’m tired of being groped,” Gabriella moaned.

“You know, Carmen is part witch. That’s the only explanation for how she always finds us hiding in whatever corner we end up in everywhere we go. Don’t worry. Someone will distract her, and she’ll forget all about us. As for groping, I’ve had my share. Knee them in the groin like I showed you.” Nia pushed her shoulder against Gabriella’s.

“I can’t do that,” Gabriella insisted.

Nia could imagine the scandalised look and slight blush on Gabe’s
caramel
-coloured face.

“Why the hell not? If they’re getting grabby, then do it. I promise, it will feel good and dissuade any other yahoos from doing the same,” Nia said.

Neither she nor Gabriella had problems attracting men—their problem was keeping them away. In Nia’s case, she just didn’t want to be bothered. Gabriella, on the other hand, was extremely shy and quiet around anyone she wasn’t comfortable with. Strangely, they both had been instantly comfortable with Nick Thompson, Carmen’s new husband. Nick was a wonderful match to Carmen’s outgoing nature. He had a wicked sense of humour that made his light green eyes sparkle. Not to mention that he was gorgeous.

“Crap. Here she comes,” Gabriella said.

Nia laughed, returning her attention to Carmen. Carmen waved at the people trying to get her attention, but kept coming towards their hiding place.

“I wonder if there’s some way out of here. Make her hunt for us,” Nia said gleefully.

“Let’s go,” Gabriella readily agreed.

Nia turned to go with her.

“Stop right there. Don’t make me kick off my shoes to chase you,” Carmen said in her southern twang.

“You move too damn fast,” Nia huffed.

“Have to keep up with you,” Carmen said.

Nia turned back. Carmen’s nut-brown face, framed by dark brown ringlets, was radiant.

“I hate you for looking so good,” Nia teased.

“Please. Next to you two, I look like day-old rice.” Carmen slapped her on the shoulder, then linked her arm through Nia’s.

“Don’t make me hit you,” Gabriella warned.

Nia glanced around Carmen at her. Carmen had linked arms with Gabriella, too.

“What? You think you have to hold on to us so we don’t run?” Nia said.

“You all might,” Carmen said.

“Maybe,” Nia agreed.

She laughed, and Carmen and Gabriella joined in. Then they sobered and stood in the alcove, watching the guests enjoying the reception.

“I love this hotel. They did a good job,” Carmen said.

“I’ve heard the Wilde Hotels are the best in New York—and internationally, too,” Gabriella said.

“It’s all right. They’re doing their job to get your money. Money talks.” Nia snorted.

“You’re such a cynic,” Carmen teased.

Nia’s mind filled with arousing blue eyes.

“What’s the look about?” Gabriella asked.

Nia focused on her. “Umm…nothing.”

“Uh-uh. We haven’t seen that look before. Now spill.” Gabrielle disentangled herself from Carmen and hurried around to Nia’s left side.

“Isn’t it time to go back to the party?” Nia took a step.

Carmen’s hold on her arm stopped her. Gabriella put her arm around her. They pulled her back between them. Nia lowered her eyes. Carmen’s pale grey gaze and Gabriella’s hazel eyes would make her spill all.

“You know you’re going to tell us.” Carmen squeezed her arm pointedly.

“Or suffer the Two Vs,” Gabriella said.

“That’s Three Vs,” Nia said.

“Since it’s me and Carmen trying to get your hard-headed self to spill, it’s two. Now I know math isn’t your subject, but even you can add one and one,” Gabriella teased.

“She’s got jokes,” Nia huffed.

“And you’re avoiding the subject,” Carmen pointed out.

She was. Nia glanced from one friend to the other, then spilt the details of her encounter with the mysterious man. Carmen looked contemplative.

“Maybe Nick knows who he is. Let’s go ask.”

“I don’t want to know,” Nia said as Carmen dragged her behind her.

Carmen stopped, giving her the look that made her a formidable DA. “It is my contention, Your Honour, that Nia Hudson is afraid. What say you?”

“I agree,” Gabriella said.

“Since when are you a judge? You’re an ME. Nick is a judge.”

“Fine. Then I’ll take my case to him,” Carmen said.

She pulled at Nia again. Nia resisted, but Gabriella joined in, and they led her forward.

“This is so wrong. Don’t you have wedding guests to attend to?” Nia asked.

“That can wait. Honey?” Carmen called.

Nick turned to his new wife. His look was amused and indulgent. Nia groaned. Nick was already used to their antics. Hell, he participated more than anything else.

“I don’t want to know,” Nia said firmly.

“It would be better if I know what you don’t want to know.” Nick lips twitched.

“Your wife is cuckoo. Crazy. Why did you marry her?” Nia worked her arms free of the other two women.

She stumbled, and Nick caught her. He brushed her hair away from her face. His green eyes twinkled. The look was the one he got before he did something outrageous.

“Because you wouldn’t have me.” He dipped her and kissed her quickly, then set her back on her feet. Cheering from her two loony friends reached her.

“You are trouble,” Nia sputtered.

“I so am.” Nick winked.

“My trouble.” Carmen slid her arm around his waist.
 

Nia smiled, watching them. They were perfect together. Carmen glanced at her. Nia backed up. Gabriella was behind her.

“Nia had a question.”

“I don’t.” Nia protested, then said nothing further on the subject.

Darius Wilde clenched his fingers on the curtain as the groom grabbed the woman he had been speaking with. At the kiss, the cloth ripped beneath his fingers. Darius waved his hand, restoring it. The bride and the other woman—Gabe—cheered. He relaxed slightly. The groom and the women seemed friendly. From their conversation, he supposed they were extremely close friends. The camaraderie and playfulness were like what he had with his brothers and cousins.

He’d had his hearing dampened to normal, not wanting to intrude on the wedding guests’ conversations. But he was tempted to tune in to what was being said by the four people across the room. He didn’t even know the woman’s name, but she was captivating. Her sassy, dark-brown, pixie-cut hairstyle with tinges of gold offset her curly-lashed, slightly slanted
catlike eyes—a mixture of green, hazel, and grey. Against her skin, which was the colour of dark, rich maple sugar with a hint of sandalwood, her eyes stood out, making you want to uncover what was hidden beneath the shell of wariness.

The guarded expression on her face had made him want to change it to passion. For him. He could imagine that broad forehead wrinkled in confusion, her nostrils flaring as she took in the scent of them, lips parted, breathing deeply as he sank into her lush wetness. A slight blush would stain those arched cheeks, and he would lick along it, down across the tops of her ample breasts. Her nipples, he imagined, would be a darker brown than her skin, and he would suckle them for a while, enjoying each gasp or moan from her lips.

The sound of ripping cloth reached him. He glanced at the curtain and saw that it was shredded again. He took a breath, fighting for calm. With a thought, he repaired it again. The woman whose name he didn’t know was wreaking hell on his usually formidable self-control.

“What are you doing?” asked a voice much like his own.

“Keeping an eye out to make sure the wedding party is pleased with our service.” Darius was grateful that his voice did not show his need.

“More like ogling one particular guest. Why don’t you go and ask her to dance? Or, better yet, go somewhere and do all you are imagining,” Dubrinsky Wilde, his youngest brother, suggested.

Darius looked at him sharply. Dubrinsky looked a lot like him, as did all the Wilde men. Their eye colour varied depending on their parental lineage. Dubrinsky’s eyes were dual coloured—one blue and the other violet, a mix of their parents’ eye colours. He and Remy had their mother’s eye colour, blue, while Ashton, who was younger than Darius, had violet eyes like their father. All of them had inky-black hair.

“You are broadcasting even louder than Remy did.” Dubrinsky’s lips twitched.

Darius knew what he was referring to. When Remy, their oldest brother, had returned from Milan a few months ago, he had been out of sorts. Remy had met a woman whom he’d wanted—badly. The family obligations of being the oldest Garlven
from the Quilez clan,
and Remy’s stubborn nature, had kept him from her. The things Remy had imagined—some he and the woman, Mia, had done, and others he was planning—had made all of them feel on edge. They had finally convinced him to go and get her. Remy had. He and Mia were now married, living on the top floor of the hotel.

Like all of the Wilde family around the world, they lived on site. His brothers Remy,
Dubrinsky and Ashton, along with himself and their cousins Claudio and Jaxon,
had their homes here at the New York Wilde Hotel. Their homes were on the top three floors of the massive hotel, two of them on each floor on either side of the building. On each level, the apartments had a hidden door that gave you access to all the other residences. They were linked by a private elevator that each of them could enter from within his living quarters. There was also a well-lit stairway leading to each of them. Each floor had apartments designed to their specifications—lots of space, a private terrace, and a glass-enclosed solarium. Entry for anyone else, guest or employee, could only be granted by the Wildes as they saw fit.