Wilde Heart (Wilde Women Book 2) Page 6

  “So what does that make you?” she snapped. “Prince Charming?”

  “Shut the fuck up, Rhiann,” he snarled as a choked cough of laughter came from the front seat.

  He had a driver. Why, of course, he had a driver!

  “I’m rescuing you from the rain. Your thanks is underwhelming,” he complained.

  On cue, a tremendous boom of thunder followed lightning streaking across the sky as a torrent of rain pelted the car. Jeez. It felt like the whole world was conspiring against her.

  Mumbling darkly, she told him, “I just want to go home.”

  Unbuttoning his jacket, Liam sat back, shoved her bags away from his legs, and frowned.

  “Are you wet? Would you like my jacket?”

  Rhiann bit back a groan. He was being nice, but she couldn’t stop the reaction to his asking if she was wet. This was a joke, right?

  “I’m not wet and fuck your jacket. I just want to go home!”

  Maybe he got how suggestive his words were when she yelled them back in his face or maybe the shock she saw was simply because she raised her voice and was being a bitch.

  Dropping her face into her hands, she shook her head and sighed. Why did this man’s presence shake her up so much?

  He touched her leg slightly and murmured, “Rhiann.”

  When she finally got up the courage to respond, she slumped back onto the headrest and turned her face toward him. That was all she had.

  Liam gentled his tone and asked for her address so he could tell the driver where to take them.

  “Really? You don’t have a whole file on me? I’d have thought my address would be right at your fingertips. And how is it you just happened to be lurking outside my building at this exact moment?”

  She must have hit a nerve because his mouth grew grimmer, if that was even possible.

  “Is that what you think? That I’d step all over your privacy and stalk you just because I could?”

  He sounded wounded, and she paused. Maybe there were limits to what he was capable of—at least where she was concerned.

  Rhi shrugged and made a face. “You drop back into my life out of nowhere, try to put me in my place with a shitty power play then jam your tongue down my throat when I refuse to play nice. What am I supposed to think?”

  This time there was no noise from the front seat, but she did notice that Liam briefly looked in that direction. He probably didn’t like one of his underlings hearing the sordid details of his private life. Serves the fucker right, she thought.

  “Well, for the record,” he informed her testily, “there’s probably a file with your name on it somewhere, but frankly, there’s no reason for me to see it.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” she yelped. “I’m an afterthought? You played me that day in your office? What the fuck is wrong with you? How many more times do you have to be mean to me before it’s enough?”

  From her peripheral view, Rhiann saw two eyes find her in the rearview mirror. Damn. This was turning into a scene.

  The cool, controlled tycoon next to her in the backseat of that sedan suddenly exploded. Smacking his fist against the headrest of the front passenger seat, he roared, “Fuck!” and turned toward her in the tight confines of the car.

  “What do I have to do to shut that smart mouth of yours up?”

  She snorted in disbelief. “Oh, now you need suggestions? The great and powerful CEO of BPG had no trouble shutting me up the other day!”

  “Are you actually baiting me, woman?” he growled. “Do you want me to kiss you again? Is that what this is all about?”

  “What?” she squeaked. “No!”

  Was that a flash of uncertainty she saw in his eyes?

  “I’m not trying to be mean to you, and all I meant about the damn personnel file was that it didn’t seem right to use my position to stick my nose in your life.”

  “Oh,” she muttered.

  “And if you want to be kissed, just ask. Don’t pick a fight with me to get what you want.”

  There were at least a dozen snappy, cutting remarks sitting on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed them all. They had an audience, and she wasn’t eager to give someone she didn’t know a front row seat to whatever the hell it was that was going on.

  Taking the obvious low road, she informed him, “121 Bleecker Street.”

  When the car glided slowly away from the curb and out into traffic, Liam appeared to relax—almost as if giving up her address had been important. She just didn’t understand him at all and didn’t have a clue what was going on in his mind.

  They traveled in silence for a few minutes and then she saw him grip his thighs with his hands. Stealing herself against another verbal barrage, Rhiann was taken off guard when he quietly asked if she’d be going home for Thanksgiving.

  “I recall the holidays were a big deal for your family.”

  Well, he was certainly right about that though she was surprised he remembered. Believing he hadn’t given a damn about her after their break-up was easier than hoping he thought about her at all. Now, with such a simple question, she felt flustered and unsure.

  “Um, actually,” she stammered, “this year we’re all headed to Philly. Command performance with Nana.”

  He nodded. “And your sisters? How are they?”

  Rhi couldn’t help the wide grin that leaped onto her face. “I’m going to be an aunt!” she proclaimed.

  “Seriously?”

  She nodded and smiled some more. “Uh-huh. Totally.”

  “Brynn or Charlize?”

  Laughter rumbled up from her chest. “Why, Brynn, of course! Charlie’s roaming around Italy oohing and aaahing over bits of broken pottery. She’s too young for mommyhood.”

  “I thought Brynn was divorced?” he said.

  Oh. So maybe he didn’t access her file, but he had at least checked out the family news if he knew about her sister’s divorce. Hmmmm.

  “That she is,” Rhi confirmed. “Been in upstate PA running a bakery and tea room for the last couple of years.”

  She saw his face register surprise. During their time together, her older sister was already making a name for herself as a serious financial genius. That she would probably end up on Wall Street was a given, even back then. Learning that Brynn had moved to the country and baked cookies and cupcakes for a living probably seemed a tad odd.

  “She met this fabulous guy—his name is Jax, and she fell big time. They both did. Next thing anyone knows, she’s planning a winter wedding, and there’s a baby on the way.”

  She laughed and shook her head earning a quizzical glance from the man at her side. “Actually, I’m the one doing the wedding plans. Brynn is uh . . . pre-occupied.”

  OKAY. SHE WAS TALKING, AND it didn’t feel like she was ready to pounce on him at any second and rip his head off. So—that was good, right?

  Six months ago, he’d been head-to-head with a bunch of serious Middle Eastern moguls, financiers, and princes, hammering out a venture that he and his savvy team had taken control of from day one. Billions of dollars were on the line. Lives held in the balance. And throughout the whole exercise, he hadn’t broken a sweat, been anxious, or wavered in any way.

  Five minutes in the backseat of a car with Rhiann Wilde and he was sweating bullets—his heart thumped and for some odd reason he didn’t know what to do with his hands. Should he fold them in his lap? Maybe stretch one arm out along the back of the seat? He put a hand on the armrest of the door and absently tapped his fingers, only stopping when he thought the pose made him seem bored.

  Jesus. He wasn’t bored. Far from it. In actuality, he was wondering if he was having an anxiety attack. Or the beginning of a heart attack.

  Liam inhaled deeply and attempted to calm the fuck down. In typical Rhiann style, she was talking and animated. Something about a wedding. He liked that she was smiling instead of snarling.

  Obviously, inquiring about her family had been a smart move. Liam liked the Baron-Wilde clan
. Rhiann and her quirky sisters aside, he’d always hold Professor Wilde and his wife in deep regard. They’d been uncommonly kind. Welcoming. Interested in him as a person. Helpful. And that was another link in the chain of why he’d had to end things with Rhiann. Sleeping with the professor’s virgin daughter felt like a betrayal.

  She paused and he slid into the conversation with a half smile. “Your folks must be thrilled. How is the professor? He ever finish cataloging those books?”

  Rhiann fought a smile—it was cute how she tried to keep it off her face. Unbuttoning her jacket, she crossed one leg over the other while smoothing a grey colored skirt over her knees. For a second, she was a curious blend of a young girl and sexy woman. Probably the sneakers, he mused.

  “He’ll never finish.” She chuckled. “Finishing isn’t the point! For him, it’s all about the books. Looking at them, holding them. Turning the pages. My dad can rhapsodize ad nauseam about that musty library smell and the way a good book feels in your hands.”

  This was something he understood. What she’d just described was exactly how he felt about her. He liked looking at her. Liked holding her, too. Turning the pages with Rhiann had been an adventure. And then there was the other stuff. How she smelled. Tasted. Felt under his hands. He’d never be finished with her.

  Deep in thought, he hadn’t noticed when she stopped talking and turned to stare at him. He wasn’t prepared when she did a full one-eighty, steering the conversation in his direction.

  “You’ve done well, Liam,” she told him with her big green eyes bright with approval. “More than well, actually.”

  He fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat. None of that meant anything when she was around. It made the ground underneath him feel like shifting sand when he realized that Rhiann’s importance far outweighed any of his business accomplishments. She was the one thing missing.

  “It’s okay to be successful,” she murmured.

  Damn. It was like she could read his thoughts.

  The gentleness in her voice surprised Liam. “Your mother must be so proud! How is she?”

  With those few words, it was like something detonated inside the car. His eyes snapped to the rearview and found Roman staring at him. Liam’s fierce scowl returned. His mother. Not someone he wanted to talk about.

  “What’s wrong,” she asked. “Did I say something?” Her eyes were darting back and forth between him and the back of Roman’s head. Obviously, she sensed the undercurrent and was concerned.

  “No. It’s okay, Rhiann. You didn’t say anything wrong.”

  She was staring intently at him in the darkness of the car as it inched along in the gridlocked evening traffic.

  “My . . .” he started to say then paused. “Carolyn passed away a few years back.”

  Before any more words came, he heard her moan softly and grasp his hand in the darkness. He marveled at her reaction—which was to immediately comfort him. Liam didn’t know how to react to that.

  Whispering so just he would hear, Rhiann squeezed his hand and leaned closer. “I’m so very sorry. I know how much you loved her.”

  Words swirled in his mind. He should respond. Say something. Act civilized. But her small, soft hand holding his was wreaking havoc on his tightly checked emotions. There was nothing disingenuous about her reaction. Rhiann actually cared about his pain.

  Liam reached out and wrapped a hand under her messy ponytail, around her neck. She felt warm. And soft. He swept his thumb from the delicate shell of her ear and along her jawline. Time slowed as he watched her lips part on a quiet gasp. In the shadowy darkness of the car, her eyes were more smoke than green.

  He took his other hand from hers and used it to cup her face. She was so lovely it made his heart ache just looking at her.

  Long seconds passed while the two former lovers stared at each other in the deepening quiet.

  “I would have been there had I known,” she whispered. “If you needed me . . .”

  Liam groaned at her words. If he needed her? Oh, my god. Cutting off her words and his thoughts, he lowered his head until their lips were barely touching, and they were breathing each other in.

  He heard and felt her whimper—his lips pulsing with need.

  At first, he kissed her slowly, almost reverently. Her mouth so sweet and perfect under his. She let him lead, so he did. Taking the kiss further, he nibbled on her lips, sucked on the fleshy part of her bottom lip, then swept his tongue around the outline of her mouth.

  Liam was vaguely aware that Roman had switched on the satellite radio when the sound of soft music made its way into his senses. It wasn’t at all like him to be kissing a woman in the backseat while his security chief was right there—hell, he didn’t do much kissing at all, if truth be told. He was more direct and to the point in his sexual encounters. Saved time and cut out a shit ton of emotional bullshit that he wasn’t interested in.

  But here? Now? With Rhiann’s mouth pressed so sweetly to his? Fuck, man. He hoped the trip to her apartment took all night so he didn’t have to stop kissing her. And if he had a shred of honesty left inside him—he had to admit that he was more than interested in as much emotional bullshit as she could dish out.

  Before long, he’d maneuvered her quite deftly onto his lap and somehow divested her of the hideous jacket. He had a hand on her bottom where she angled into him and the other arm wrapped securely around her trembling body as he laid waste to her mouth.

  She was clutching him, a hand fisting his shirt and tie while the other was making a mess of his immaculately styled hair. With her mouth answering his every desire, she was making quiet little moans and grunts as their tongues slid sinuously against each other.

  Saliva worked around the edges of their mouths as the kiss lengthened, deepened, and came perilously close to going off the charts. Liam remembered another time when being in the backseat of a car with her body pressed to his had ended with her jeans in a ball and panties in shreds as he made feverish, desperate love to her. Shit. He had to pull back before he took her without a care that they were in no way alone or in a private setting. After all, there was so much more going on with them than hormones and desire. Now wasn’t the time to force the issue.

  Once he settled that in his mind, Liam was able to lose himself at the moment knowing he had the situation under control. Kissing the quivering woman squirming in his lap was pure bliss. Cradling Rhiann in his arms felt natural—as if a space had been carved out just for her.

  The car sped up and slowed down, making its way into the village where he’d be forced finally let them both come up for air. Until then, though . . .

  Everything was spinning, and Rhi wasn’t sure she was going to survive the kiss scrambling her senses. What Liam did to her mouth was beyond words. He devoured. Worshiped. Challenged. Rewarded.

  His lips consumed her—taking Rhi to a place she never wanted to leave. When his tongue snaked slowly around hers, she whimpered helplessly. Her mouth remembered this. His taste. The way he took control.

  She knew damn well they shouldn’t be doing this but—what the hell. Emotion led her body and no amount of desperate clinging to common sense was going to make a difference.

  Surrendering to what she was sure was going to turn out to be a moment of piss poor judgment, she sank into the kiss and let him take her well beyond Rhi’s comfort zone. She’d loved the boy she knew, but was leery and suspicious of the man in whose arms she trembled. He had an agenda. One that involved her. And though that thought might have thrilled her years ago—memories of his cruelty and how he’d cast her aside, turning away from her without a backward glance after she’d given him everything she had—urged caution.

  “We’re here, Boss,” she heard through the libidinous stupor that enveloped her.

  Liam gentled the kiss and brought her slowly back, his big hand sweeping from her waist to her knee and back again.

  An emotion—something she couldn’t quite face—tore at her when he drew back, calmly lifting her off
his lap and setting her back onto the seat. Feeling limp and boneless, a fine shiver ran through her nervous system when all of a sudden she felt the sting of tears. Just like that, she came screaming full speed back to the present.

  Oh, hell no. She wasn’t crying over this man anymore. It was her stupid, damn belief in white knights and true love that kept leading her astray. Never again. He’d dumped her like an out-of-warranty cell phone, and she’d do well to remember that. He might kiss like a god—or at least like the dark angel he sometimes became in her dreams, but that wasn’t reason enough to invite that kind of hurt again. He’d left her so devastated when their affair ended that she knew there’d never be another like him in her life. So she never bothered to look. Or dream. Or hope. Not once in the almost eight long years.

  But now here he was and all she could think of was how complicated and fucked up the situation was. She knew he was a closed book—always had been. There was dark shit going on his mind that he never shared—not even with her. And that frightened Rhi. He was too powerful. Too damn good-looking. Too wealthy. She wasn’t stupid—he could pretty much have anything he wanted.

  She glanced out the window and was relieved to see the rain had stopped. Well, at least there was that small mercy.

  “Rhiann,” he husked, deep and low.

  Hesitantly, she looked at him. His eyes were dark and stormy—like the weather.

  “We need to talk. Alone,” Liam muttered with a scowl at the back of his driver’s head.

  Talk? Okay. But there was something she needed to know first. No more dancing around the subject, so she blurted out the question that never left her.

  “Did you buy the magazine because of me?”

  “Yes.”

  His swift answer left Rhiann floundering. Somehow, she hadn’t expected him to take ownership of what was essentially an accusation.

  “To what end, Liam? I mean . . .” She paused searching for the right way to express her fears. “We didn’t exactly part company as friends.”