To Claim a Wilde (Wilde In Wyoming Book 6) (6 page)

Neither had Tiber been on board, he knew, judging from the scattering of small ranches his brother had been quietly collecting the tax lien for, in an effort to save various families from those who could and would buy the liens and force payment immediately.

The McBrides were one of those families Tiber had instructed Ruby, their accountant, to purchase the lien for, once the family had been in default on it the previous year.

He’d keep that particular bit of information to himself for the moment.

He scanned her email to his brother, paying closer attention than he had before. Reading it again, slower, knowing the author of the email was Naomi.

Before, it had just been some anonymous woman asking for help for her family; he’d had a completely different vision of this woman in mind.

Deep in thought, he pocketed his phone, a frown creasing his brow. She was asking for the Wildes to hold off, and asking if they had any clout when it came to Rolling Hills. If so, could they petition on her family’s behalf? She said it was only for a time. Give her family enough time to come up with the money to pay the back taxes on their ranch.

It was then that Tiber had responded. Tiber, his stern, iron-and-steel, hard-core CEO brother, had agreed to listen to Naomi McBride and had given Canton permission and instruction to help her in any way they could; it was a family in their community, and as most knew, a Wilde helped a neighbor in need.

Although she hadn’t given a dollar amount that her family owed, Tiber had easily found out, as the Wildes owned the tax lien, and the amount was negligible. At least to the Wildes it was. Hell, Canton could write a check for the amount from his own “piss in the wind” account as he called one of his personal accounts.

He could give her family the loan from any source—his own personal money, or from one of the family accounts—and not miss a beat and they’d be out of hock.

But this was personal. She was personal. And he’d be the one she would need to appease, the one she’d have to ask...to beg.

He yanked open the fridge, but hesitated, his hand automatically reaching for a beer, hovering. He grabbed a Coke instead, knowing he needed a clear head dealing with her.

Canton withdrew a second one and got down two glasses and placed them on the counter.

His glance went toward the covered dish where their housekeeper had made a lemon pound cake.

Hell no! A drink was all he’d offer her. She wasn’t going to have him playing the nice host, Canton thought in irritation as he grabbed the drinks.

A purely masculine grin stretched his lips as he strode with a new purpose in mind toward the library.

If anything, by the time he was done with her, playing nice would be the tip of the iceberg of what he had in mind to do with her.

Chapter 6

W
hile Naomi waited for Canton to return, she became a mass of nervous energy.

As soon as she’d opened the opulent, partially stained glass doors, she’d slipped inside and briefly leaned against them.

Then, realizing the expensive, intricate stained glass probably cost as much as she owed in student loans, she’d hastily moved from her leaning position.

It had taken a few minutes for her gut to stop churning enough to take in her surroundings.

He’d directed her to go inside the library, and she hadn’t known what to expect; she equated a home library as being the same as a den, truth be told. But this was taking the family den to the nth degree.

The Wilde family library was stunningly gorgeous, a curious mixture of opulence, comfort and contemporary design, its built-in shelves filled top to bottom with what looked like thousands of books.

It had the bookworm in Naomi eager to investigate.

Her fascinated gaze danced across the room. For a minute she felt like a child in a playroom filled with all of her favorite toys.

A beautiful wrought-iron masterpiece of a chandelier hung from the high ceiling, filling the room with an amber-like soft glow. Illuminating enough to read in, but not harsh enough to interfere with the natural ambience the room seem to generate.

Thick crown molding along the baseboard of the room matched the molding along the ceiling. Three of the four walls held a massive load of books within their shelves, but one of the dark wood-paneled walls was more ornate with its molding, arched and recessed, with a set of stairs that led to a
second
tier of books for the reader to explore.

Completely beautiful and absolutely mind-blowing, the room’s lavishness kept her mind busy for a moment, taking it off the issue of her current predicament, and one Wilde man named Canton.

She sighed deeply, running a reverent hand over the spine of a few of the books before one particular tome caught her attention. It appeared to be an antique Bible, from the gold embossed cross on the spine.

Gingerly she removed the leather-bound book. Her mouth formed a perfect O as she glanced over the cover.

Just like the spine, the cover of the antique book was embossed with gold lettering, simply designed yet beautifully crafted. Carefully she opened the thin vellum pages, leisurely examining the contents of its mounted illustrations and plates.

After delicately turning the pages, she noted the early 1900 copyright date and the illustrator’s signature.

The same fear she’d had with the stained glass doors to the library, she also felt with the cost of the antique book she held. It alone could wipe out her student loan debt from medical school. Of this she had no doubt.

“My family has long held an affinity for collecting rare tomes, as well as contemporary types of books.”

Startled when she heard Canton’s sexy, deep voice, Naomi spun around on her heel, Bible in hand.

She warily watched him as he walked inside the room, closing the double doors behind him.

Before he’d entered the large, opulent room, Naomi marveled at the sheer amount of space. Suddenly, the walls seemed too close, the air too thin to accommodate his presence.

“That one in your hand was bought at a silent auction. For a considerable amount,” he continued, nodding toward the Bible she still held, seemingly unaware of how his presence unnerved her.

“It—it’s beautiful.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, and she cleared her throat. She gave a small shaky smile and turned around to face the shelf. With a steady hand she replaced the Bible where she’d found it.

“Please, have a seat,” he said, motioning for her to sit after she turned back to face him, with a much steadier smile in place.

Besides the wall-to-wall shelves filled to capacity with books, the large room had several seating options, including a large dark leather sofa, the deep mahogany color matching the stain of the wood lining the walls and crown molding.

There were three other seating choices. One was two beautiful overstuffed brocade chairs, which appeared to be classic pieces, nothing one could find in any modern contemporary furnishing store.

The chairs flanked a low, elaborately carved octagonal table that just like the rest of the lovely furnishings was unique, and no doubt ridiculously expensive.

In the far corner nestled near the fireplace, was a decadently gorgeous, oversize chaise longue that could easily hold two people with a throw blanket casually tossed over the foot.

The library was as warmly inviting as it was classically beautiful. Her eyes stole back to the fireplace, and for a moment, she pictured herself in front of the fire, stretched out on the chaise longue with a glass of wine.

“If you like, I can start a fire,” he said drily, dark humor in his voice, and she blushed, feeling as though he’d read her mind.

“No, no. That isn’t necessary. But thank you,” she said, infusing a brusque tone into her voice to stamp out the crazy momentarily longing.

“I brought you something to drink. It’s just a Coke. Hope this is okay, but if you’d like something stronger let me know.” He held out the tumbler of iced Coke and she stared at his big hand wrapped around the glass, the sprinkling of hair on his knuckles sexy as hell to her.

God, she had it bad, she thought in disgust.

“No, that will be fine. I don’t drink,” she replied and blushed at the look he gave her. “Well. Not much, anyway,” she qualified her statement, feeling her face grow warm. That night seven years ago she had drunk. And drunk well.

Again, she wondered if he remembered. Naomi smiled stiffly and accepted the drink.

“Well, let’s get down to it, shall we?” she said, taking matters into her own hands.

“By all means,” he replied, his voice only slightly dry. “Let me pull up the documents I have on file and we can talk about your family’s situation. Please, have a seat,” he said, motioning for her to take the only seat near the desk. It was very close, and if she had her druthers, well, she’d stay where she was. But...she didn’t.

He had home-court advantage, and she had to play ball the way he wanted.

She observed him, carefully, not wanting to miss a thing, not a nuance in expression or body language.

He placed his drink down on the desk once he’d reached it and sat down in the massive, gorgeous chair, propping his big feet up on the top as though it were a discount piece of furniture, and not the ridiculously priced piece she knew it had to be.

Naomi sat down in the seat he’d indicated, crossed her legs and then overlapped her hands over her bag she had placed in her lap.

She knew what he was reading; the carefully worded plea she’d written to Tiber Wilde, outlining the need to buy the lien back, and a carefully detailed payback schedule. She nervously rubbed her fingers together.

“I think you know what I came here for, and what I...my
family
is requesting. I need to know if you are willing to help us or not. If not then I understand,” she began, only to see him haughtily hold up a hand as though to shush her.

No. No he did not... Naomi refrained from jumping up and slapping his arrogant, handsome face. No one shushed her. She was an educated, well-respected pediatrician. She was used to people giving her a little more deference than what he was showing her right now. How dare he shush her!

But for her parents...

The mental reminder was all she had. And the only thing that stopped her from telling his behind off, no matter how well defined and muscled it was, or how good it had felt as she’d held on as he’d plunged into her all those years ago...
Stop, girl. Just stop,
she mentally chastised herself.

If not for her parents she’d tell him where to take his damn help.

She held her tongue. Her momma didn’t raise a fool. There was a time and place for everything.

For several minutes he perused the file, whatever file it was, and she remained silent, nerves taut, waiting for his verdict. Would the Wildes...would Canton Wilde help her family? She knew the fate of her family rested in this one particular Wilde’s hands.

Or was he just allowing her to wait, squirm, only to dash her dreams, callously?

Longer moments went by, longer than necessary. He had to have already read the file, but was making her wait. She knew what he was doing...just as well as she knew what the faint scar looked liked that ran down the center of his well-cut abs. She’d never forgotten one thing about his decadently hot body.

She remained still, refusing to show him just how on edge she was.

“Okay, so here’s the deal,” he began, his deep voice ringing out in the quiet library making her jump. She sat up, spine straight, hands in her lap, and waited.

She focused her attention on him, her eyes locked with his. For all of her nervousness, fear and stress she felt for her family, she wouldn’t allow him to see any of that. She was made of stronger stuff than that. The Wildes weren’t the only family with steel running through their veins.

The McBrides were as determined and
just
as strong-willed as the Wildes.

A bit of her confidence returned. She knew in that moment that no matter what this man said, she and her family would be okay. He did not hold their destiny in his hands. Only God had that distinction.

As badass as he thought he was, he was no deity, she thought, feeling a tiniest bit of a smile lift her lips.

It was there that she saw it. The tiniest flicker in his eyes. He reacted to something, just now, and she saw it.

She was under no delusions. She was a smart woman. She realized he
had
to remember who she was. It was all there in his eyes. Eyes that promised retribution.

Slowly, he rose. Kicked back his chair, moved around the desk and sauntered over to where she sat. And stood less than a foot from her.

Naomi refused to move...

* * *

When she smiled it was over.

Canton had sat there, behind the oversize desk, pretending a nonchalance he was far from feeling, looking at the blank screen of his computer while mentally going through his plan once more, looking for objections she may have, thinking it through to make sure he knew how and what to do, to slyly counter any said objections.

Ultimately he knew he had her over a barrel. His ace in the hole was her love for her family.

Something Canton grudgingly admired about her. One of many things.

His plan was to get her out of his system one way or another. He admitted to himself that she’d played peekaboo in his thoughts way too often over the past seven years, and now it was time to exorcise the ghost of Naomi McBride once and for all.

And that was all she was. Nothing more substantial than a ghost. Someone of little significance beyond a whisper of something that once was.

Their affair had been fleeting at best, and one he shouldn’t even remember, much less in vivid detail, but he recalled everything about that night. The way she felt, her soft skin against his, her legs wrapped around his as they’d made love for hours and hours...the memories were something that made no sense to him. Not the fact that he’d indulged in a bout of marathon lovemaking with her, but that he remembered it
and
her, and every detail about both.

He’d bedded women, had more than his share of protected casual sex. But there hadn’t been one damn thing casual about the way she’d set his blood on fire from the moment they’d first met.

His plan had been to approach her situation with casual disregard. Outline her options. Tell her that in order for his family to try to help her family, she was going to have to earn it.

The way she would earn it would be to be at his beck and call, 24/7.

He sat on the edge of the desk and folded his hands, giving her his full attention.

“Here’s the deal. The only reason I’m here and not Tiber is because my brother is overseas currently, handling one of our investments. In my brother’s absence I am now the one who has to attend all the bulls—um, social events Tiber normally attends,” he began, curbing his language but speaking as succinctly as he could, without giving her too much detail. “Events I don’t normally go to.”

Read as “social gatherings he normally avoided like the plague,” he mentally corrected. He continued. “And I need someone to go with me. I’m...in between...escorts at the moment, and don’t feel like dealing with what happens if I attend one of these events alone. You are the answer.”

Although she sat still and never flinched or moved a muscle, he could feel her surprise and questions.

“I need an escort for these events. And that’s where you come in,” he said, trying to sew it all together as concisely as possible. “For the next two weeks, you are going to be, if only to the outside world, my current...escort,” he finished, taking joy in the way her pretty chocolate-brown cheeks washed with a subtle hint of color, alerting him that she was blushing.

“And...and that’s all? Me just escorting you to these social events?” she asked, frowning, biting the center of her bottom lip.

His gaze halted on her lips, watching as she worried that plump, succulent piece of flesh until he felt like groaning, his cock thumping against the too-tight confines of his jeans, the desire that had lain simmering for her rising to life.

Canton forced his gaze back to meet hers.

“Yes. That’s it.” The lie slid nice and smooth off his tongue. He didn’t want to scare her. He felt her panic like a rabbit in a den of wolves, with him being the alpha wolf readying his prey.

He carefully watched her.

“And after the two weeks of me accompanying you on these...events, you and your family will do what exactly? And can we get that in writing...whatever it is, you’re purposing? Just to make sure we are on the same page.”

Another thing he liked about her—she was as intelligent as she was beautiful. The fact that she didn’t bat an eye at what he was asking told him that she was under no delusions and knew that she was at his mercy. She either took the deal he offered, or she walked out of his home unable to help her family.