Wilde at Heart (Wilde Security, #3)(38)

He lifted his head, spotted Lena, and his frown deepened. “I didn’t know she was here. I’m sorry. I should have warned you about her.”

“That’s okay. Alicia saved me.” And was then interrogated for her trouble. Dammit. She wished she didn’t like Alicia so much, because now guilt gnawed at her insides for using the woman as an unwitting source of information.

At the dinner table, Reece held out a chair for her before taking his own seat. Irving James sat at the head of the table to Reece’s left and the moment his butt hit the chair, the waiters appeared with the first course. Like a well-rehearsed play. Or maybe a dance. All of the waitstaff moved with graceful efficiency, setting plates in front of the guests and keeping glasses filled. Shelby had never seen anything like it.

James ignored his staff and picked up his drink. “So, Reece, this the little wife?”

The little wife?

She glanced over at Reece to see his reaction. His lips tightened slightly, but he nodded. “Yes, this is Shelby. Shelby, Mr. James.”

“A word of friendly advice, from one married man to another…” James smiled in a slimy wink, wink, nudge, nudge kind of way. “Keep her on a short leash. You know what they say about redheads.”

A short leash? Was this guy for real?

Shelby stared across the table at Charlotte James, expecting the woman to say something chiding to her husband about the inappropriateness of the comment. At the very least, she could apologize, woman-to-woman. But Charlotte wasn’t even paying attention, too wrapped up in a conversation with one of her friends. And, that, more than the comment itself, boiled Shelby’s blood. Charlotte wasn’t unaware of her husband’s sexism—she was choosing to ignore it and setting women’s lib back sixty years in the process.

Shelby opened her mouth, but Reece’s hand landed on her thigh under the table and squeezed hard in warning.

Oh, come on. Not him, too. She glanced over, saw his lips pressed together in a tight, disapproving line. He gave a slight shake of the head.

He was mad at her? But for once, she hadn’t done anything wrong. Sure, she’d wanted to tear that chauvinist a new one, but she wouldn’t risk the future of Reece’s businesses just because she was offended. And in the long run, James’s opinion meant nothing to her. Months from now, he’d be little more than a blip on her radar.

So she was going to keep her trap shut, which didn’t explain why Reece was looking at her like she had said something offensive. She’d put up with James being a jackass if she had to, but Reece? Hell no.

There would be consequences for this.

Smiling to herself, she picked up her glass, took a sip. And she knew exactly how to get under his skin.





Chapter Fifteen


What a chauvinistic, entitled jackass.

Reece had a few choice things to say to Irving James. Oh, how he wanted to rip the guy a new one and feared he wasn’t doing a very good job of keeping his thoughts off his face. One wrong word and he might as well kiss Wilde Security good-bye. His brothers would be out of jobs, and he refused to let that happen, even if it meant biting his tongue.

He’d apologize to Shelby later. Make it up to her somehow. He hadn’t expected James to take cheap shots at her, though he probably should have. Should have prepared Shelby for the abuse. Or better yet, shouldn’t have subjected her to it in the first place.

He was a jerk.

And his hand was still on her thigh. He didn’t realize it until she parted her legs and his fingers slipped toward her inner thigh. Heat gathered in his stomach, and his cock perked to attention.

Shit.

He removed his hand and focused on Irving James again. “I was hoping we’d have some time to talk business.”

James waved a hand. “No, not tonight. Tonight is about getting acquainted.”

Something landed on his leg under the table. He reached down, thinking his napkin had slipped, and found a tiny scrap of lace, damp in the middle. His mouth went dry, and he grabbed for his drink with his free hand. Shelby innocently picked at her salad as if she hadn’t just handed him her underwear.

Jesus. Was she trying to ruin him? She had to know by now his brain didn’t fire on all cylinders when she did stuff like this. Wasn’t last night proof?

James was talking to him, but all he could concentrate on was that damp spot on the lace. He rubbed the fabric between his fingers, fantasized about having his mouth on her sex again…

No. No, no, no. Fuck, he needed a minute alone to get his head on straight or he wasn’t going to make it through dinner. He stuffed the panties in his pocket and stood, murmuring an excuse, not even entirely sure what he said. He strode out of the room, intending to head for the front door. The winter air should cool his jets and allow him to think again.

Only he didn’t make it. He got as far as the front hallway when he heard the click of heels following him across the tile and turned.

Shelby.

That dress was sin. He’d done his best to avoid touching her tonight because ever since she stepped out of her bedroom wearing the dress, the only thoughts in his head had involved peeling her out of it.

Sex had never been a distraction before, probably because he hadn’t known what he was missing. This was new territory for him, way off his normal beaten path, completely uncharted. And that pissed him off. He liked neat and tidy and carefully calculated plans.