Wilde Heart (Wilde Women Book 2) (38 page)

Blanching at this bit of news, Rhiann lifted an eyebrow. “Do you think she’ll hurt him?’ she asked in a breathy whisper.

Roman frowned. “Possibly. Crazy is as crazy does. Her agenda remains . . . unclear.”

Whatever balls to the wall façade she had clung to faded when she thought of anything happening to Liam. She might hate his fucking guts for lying to her from the start—again—but that didn’t mean she wanted him in danger.

“He needs to talk to you, Miss Wilde,” Roman told her gently. “Hear that you’re all right.”

“No! I don’t care what he wants.”

He stood and walked to her side. “I didn’t say
wants.
I said
needs.
”

Shit. Was she about to start crying? Seemed that way.

“He’s a good man, Miss Wilde. Flawed, yes. Has he made mistakes? Absolutely—as have we all. But where you are concerned—and believe me, no one is more surprised by this than I am—he needs so much more than he wants. Don’t turn your back on him now. I . . . well, I don’t think he’d survive a rejection from you and remain whole.”

Her mouth quivered, and she swallowed before answering.

“You don’t understand.”

“Ah, Miss Wilde. I understand so much more than you could possibly imagine. Please,” he asked. “Trust me?”

Crossing her arms protectively across her chest, Rhiann looked away so he wouldn’t see how close she was to tears.

“You can take whatever bedroom you want on the middle floor.”

With that, she spun on her bare feet and made for the privacy of the master suite. If she was going to fall to pieces, she was going to do it without a witness.

Liam sat in his cold, impersonal penthouse—vodka martini in hand—and stared at the model kit on the coffee table. Something about Kim’s ridiculous gift didn’t feel right, but he couldn’t pinpoint what was bothering him.

It did not help that at every turn there were even more surprises from his one-time trusted advisor. In fact, they never let up. She was like a machine churning out one too-close-for-comfort moment after another.

For more years than was worth counting, his life had been an emotional desert. Determined not to be like the cold-hearted brute that fathered him, he shut himself away from anything that smacked of feelings. Ass fucking Kim Walsh was the perfect example of what existing in that lonely desert led to. If he’d been honest with himself, and her, at the time—maybe none of this shit would be happening. Drunkenly banging someone who worked for him was so completely out of character, but he’d just went with it.

He didn’t feel anything for Kim. Never had and never will. Giving in to that one disgusting indiscretion had more power to ruin his life than anything Adam Ward had done.

They way he saw it; his damn ego had outgrown his common sense. Money and power did that. He’d been a giant fool. And in doing so, gave a crazy woman the upper hand. Knowing that his foolishness put Rhiann in danger only made him feel worse.

In the midst of his reverie, his phone buzzed. Roman. Thank god because he wasn’t exactly a patient man at the moment. Waiting to hear from him with an update had been torture.

Done.

Liam quickly began texting back.
Is she okay?

Okay? Yes. Happy? No.

Will she talk to me?

Get real.

Tell her to turn her cell phone on.

Boss-nobody’s going to tell this Wilde woman what to do. Plus-my presence here is tenuous. Best not to push our luck.

Good point, Liam thought.
BTW lunch was interesting. Uncomfortable. Kim thinks she won.

That’s what we wanted. How was my girl Jill? Haven’t had a chance to check email yet. Too busy pleading for your life [U owe me one]

Jill? Oh, jeez. Chuckling, Liam wrote:
Is she British?

Nope. Midwestern gal.

In that case, she was fantastic-English accent and all. Played her part beautifully although the tongue kiss and crotch grab was a bit edgy.

Was Walsh impressed? [wish I could have seen her face]

Think she swallowed her tongue-esp after introducing as my girlfriend. BTW-Jill Munroe? Really? U watching
Charlie’s Angels
reruns again?

Was her suggestion. Thought you’d get a laugh. Did she give you the heads up?

Yes. Perfect timing, too.

How’d the crotch grab go? LOL

Asshole. She came back empty-handed.

With me out of the picture, Gary is leaving a breadcrumb trail to distract Walsh. He mentioned she’s time/date stamping everything she does. Covering her tracks. Been thinking and—Houston . . . we have a mole. She has to have help. Someone in legal perhaps? That would explain her knowledge of the Ward issue.

Gardner reports she has a secret boy toy as well.

Going to pull in old friend. Surveillance expert. Ex-
S
pecial Forces based in southwest. While she’s watching Gary watch her, he’ll find out what she’s really up to.

Name?

Cameron Justice. I’ll send you his info. Gotta go. Your lady is rattling pots and pans in the kitchen. Better make sure she doesn’t plan to poison me. Need a laugh?

If it involves Rhiann—yes.

She called Walsh . . . Cuntzilla of the Razor Claws Clan. Priceless. Can see why she keeps you on your toes. You fuck this up with her and I’ll personally slap your stupid face.

Understood. And Roman?

Yeah.

Send me a picture. If I can’t talk to her, I need to see that she’s all right.

Jesus. You want me to pass her a fucking note in study hall, too?

Fuck off.

Slamming a big pot on the stovetop with a loud bang, Rhiann muttered aloud, “And on top of everything else, now I have to cook for a roommate playing the part of the bodyguard. Who the hell does this happen to?”

Making as much racket as possible, she set about throwing together a quick meal while Roman settled in a guest room. He completely startled her by appearing in the kitchen with his hands raised in mock surrender.

“Whoa, Miss Wilde. Those pots ‘n’ pans do you wrong? All the noise suggests cruel and unusual treatment.”

Deciding the less chitchat, the better, she shrugged inwardly. “Chicken piccata okay with you, Mr. Bishop?”

“You do not have to cook,” he offered somewhat drily. “Do you have a favorite restaurant?”

Rhiann hesitated a moment before snapping, “I may not know a lot about being a bodyguard, but I do know a little bit about avoiding crazy drama. I’m being watched or so you say.”

The skeptical look she tossed at him spoke to her fears more than her sense.

“So it seems to me that being out in public is asking for trouble.”

He glanced away briefly then met her accusing frown head on. “Actually, being seen with me is part of the plan.”

“Do you hear yourself when you speak?” she said with a frustrated grunt. “There’s a plan? That involves me? Do I get any say in this or is my part in BPG’s internal bullshit limited to assault and injury?” she taunted with a wave of her arm brace.

He didn’t flinch so much as tense. She eyed him warily and didn’t discount that with his size and imposing physical presence if he wanted to intimidate her or snap her in half like a twig—he could. Perfect hired gun material.

“Cards on the table?” he asked.

Feeling decidedly uncomfortable but needing to know, she nodded.

“She’s got someone helping her. Maybe more than one someone. We’re not sure. Putting up roadblocks to detour her away from you is our only option until we know who else is involved. To that end, we’ve put some things in motion to throw her off.”

Rhiann’s head jerked back. Put some things in motion? What in the hell did that mean?

The only thing that kept her from going across the kitchen island at him was the way he gentled his tone when he told her the rest. At least he knew she was coming to the end of her rope.

“Mr. Ashforth is uh . . . that is to say, he’s got a girlfriend who . . .”

The ringing in her head was so loud that Rhi had to press her hands against her ears to disrupt the sound.

In a frantic, high-pitched wail, she yelled, “A whaaaat? A girlfriend?” Unable to take anymore, she turned quickly and ran to the little bathroom behind the kitchen where she tossed up her cookies in rather spectacular fashion.

Heaving into the toilet as tears blurred her vision, she heard Roman mutter, “Shit,” behind her although she really didn’t care. This was the last straw. Enough was enough.

The searing reality that she’d given her heart to a man who was capable of such despicable bed-hopping crushed her soul. Oh, my god. She still loved him. Always had. Always would despite knowing that he’d never been upfront or honest with her for a single second. He was right all those years ago. She knew nothing about him. Not really. Liam Ashforth was a closed book—even to her—and why she imagined being the exception to that rule only showed what an idiot she was.

A damp cloth appeared over her shoulder that she accepted gratefully. Pressing it to her face, Rhiann inhaled choppily and turned misery filled eyes on her protector.

“Thank you,” she mumbled—privately wishing there hadn’t been a witness to her downfall moment.

“Miss Wilde,” he said gently, leading her into the dining area where she could sit. “Rhiann.” She couldn’t look at him, not even when he used her given name.

“You two are a fucking mess,” he muttered. Pulling up a chair close by, he took her hands in his and rubbed until she felt sensation return.

“The girlfriend is a ruse, Rhiann. To throw your antagonist off. That’s all. And I’ll let you in on a little secret if you swear not to spill the beans just yet.”

Was it wrong to feel hopeful? Probably. It was not like she hadn’t been down this road before, but she gave him a small crooked smirk.

“Pinky swear,” she whispered.

“The girlfriend?” He chuckled wickedly. “Known her for years and in all that time, she’s been as gay as the days are long.”

Rhiann sat there, resting on the back of the chair, the damp cloth still clutched in her hands as she considered what Roman had told her.

“When you say gay—does that mean what I think it means?”

“I mean full-on lipstick lesbian. She’s a knockout, too. Had to be in order for this charade to be believable.”

“Are you sure? I mean . . . she’s got va-jay-jay fever for real? Not lesbian-adjacent. Right?”

He grinned. “Vajayjay fever. Good one. And no, not lesbian-adjacent. If it helps any, she’s a card-carrying badass with some serious undercover cred. This isn’t her first rodeo. She’ll keep him safe—which is what matters.”

“While you’re here keeping me safe.”

“Exactly.”

Pondering these new facts, she suddenly looked up and asked, “Wait a minute. Does that mean you are currently playing the role of my . . . boyfriend? Is that what you meant by a plan to throw Kim off?”

He was laughing and before she knew it, Rhiann was laughing, too.

T
HREE DAYS PASSED WHILE LIAM went about his normal business so anyone paying attention would see nothing out of the ordinary. To all appearances, it seemed as though his trip to London had not only ended with him securing a complicated multi-national deal that would feather BPG’s cap, he also managed to hook up with a hot new girlfriend.