To Claim a Wilde (Wilde In Wyoming Book 6) (5 page)

Unsettling her so badly it was a wonder she hadn’t melted into a puddle of nerves at his feet there on the spot.

I am a professional woman
, she mentally chanted and reminded herself.
No longer that silly girl with a crush on a boy who didn’t even know my name, much less remembered something so insignificant as a one-night affair...

No matter how hot it got, or how far they went...

Maybe he wouldn’t remember her, she thought, hoped and prayed. It was a long time ago, and she knew she was just one of many women he’d known. A lifetime ago.

Besides, he wouldn’t remember her name. One time, seven years ago, surely—

“Naomi McBride. It’s been a while.” His deeply masculine, panty-wetting voice put a screeching halt to her aimless mental wanderings.

Chapter 5

S
hocked, she widened her eyes, and stumbled back and nearly dropped her bag. Her fingers unconsciously clenched and unclenched repeatedly, tightening and loosening over the sinewy roped leather straps of the knockoff designer bag.

She could hear every beat of her own heart like a roar inside her ears, and felt as though it were going to leap out of her chest as it pounded away a mile a minute.

Thump, kick, thump...thump, kick, thump...

If she could be anywhere, God,
anywhere
but right here right
now
...she would give her last dollar to make it so.

But life wasn’t that easy.

She swallowed, took a deep fortifying breath and briefly closed her eyes for a moment and glanced upward, for what seemed like an eternity until she met the veiled eyes, and shadowy face of—

“Ca-Canton?” she asked, her voice coming out as nothing more substantial than a squeak. Naomi cleared her voice and tried again, “Canton Wilde?” Nope. Still squeaking.

The higher her voice went, the higher the level of hysteria she felt, building, building, building...up.

But dear God, there was nothing, not one thing, she could do about that.

Coming to the Wildes, even contacting them, had taken more courage than Naomi thought she had in her. The only reason she felt she could handle it from the get-go was because the conversation was to be with Tiber Wilde. Not Canton.

And even with that, initially Naomi only wanted to deal over the phone with Tiber, but had agreed to come out to see him, personally, after her subtle investigation led her to believe Canton would be out on a rig somewhere, anywhere but here, she thought.

Damn it!

Her mind scrambled, trying to fill in the facts.

According to both Althea Wilde and Tiber, Canton was out of town, so she had little to worry about, at least for the time being.

When she had her correspondences with Tiber, she had carefully verified, without raising any questions, that Althea was right about Canton’s being away, and his brother had assured her of that detail.

Althea had in fact told her that Canton wouldn’t be back in the area for a few weeks, according to gossip.

“You still do that?” he asked, startling her out of her own musings in his deep sexy voice. She felt a flush rush over her despite everything, an automatic response to him, one that time obviously hadn’t taken away.

Naomi clenched her jaw and made eye contact with him, ruthlessly stamping down the response her body made to him. Nipples pulsing in direct harmony with the wild beat of her heart, and a lot more. She felt the heat burn her face.

She thanked God that because of her complexion, he wouldn’t be able to tell how badly she was blushing, at least.

That was all it was. Just some crazy chemical reaction, she assured herself.

“Do what?” she asked, clearing her throat.

“Reason things out in a conversation with yourself?” he asked, amusement tingeing his deep voice. “And blush as though you’ve embarrassed yourself?”

Her eyes flew to his, her hands reaching to cover both of her flaming cheeks. How could he tell she was blushing? she wondered.

“If I recall correctly, we met once before. Your folks own the McBride ranch, correct? Dean and Roslyn McBride?” he asked, his expression inscrutable.

All Naomi could do was bob her head up and down in affirmation. Mute as a mule.

For a moment she could not say one dang word had her life depended on it.

It then dawned on her after all of his sentence sank in that maybe he didn’t remember their one night all those years ago. Maybe he remembered her from her folks!

Dear God, please let that be it, she silently prayed.

“What are you doing here? I thought I had time, I, uh, I mean—” She stopped speaking, realizing that she was both blabbering and talking herself into a hole.

The same hole she wanted to bury herself in and throw away the shovel.

She clamped her mouth shut. Although she knew the chance of seeing Canton was there, she’d thought time would be on her side and it wouldn’t be anytime soon.

Apparently time and fate were most definitely not on her side.

“What I meant was, I thought I would be speaking with your brother Tiber. He assured me that I would be dealing with him. We had an appointment today, to discuss my family’s, um, situation,” she continued, trying to get it together. “I’m here to discuss a possible resolution on behalf of my parents.”

“Yes, I’m aware of the situation. However, Tiber isn’t available. Had me pinch-hit for him,” he replied, the tone of his voice inscrutable, making it hard for Naomi to discern his thoughts. “But as I said he filled me in on the situation. I just didn’t make the connection on which family it was. Not until now.” His odd wording made her wonder, again, if he remembered their intimate encounter, or if he simply remembered her from years ago, when she’d lived in the area.

Did
he remember that night? The question ran through her mind like a never-ending merry-go-round. One part of her was secretly embarrassed if he
didn’t
.

Because she had never, in seven years, forgotten one thing about their encounter. Not one thing.

Not the way he had looked, tall and commanding as he stood staring down at her as she lay before him, exposed, with nothing more than the thin silk sheet of his bed covering her body.

She could still see the look in his vivid blue eyes as he stood there, cock hard against his thighs, taking in every part of her body, making her wet before they’d even begun...

She drew in a swift breath. Even though she had tried to bury it, pretend it hadn’t happened, her subconscious was always there to remind her. Like clockwork. For seven years. It would wake her up occasionally with very vivid dreams reminding her...that she’d wanted
so
much more.

Her breath caught in her throat; unconsciously, she held it for a fraction longer than normal.

He just stood there, staring at her, his look completely unreadable, and again she wondered...had she not even made an impression on him?

“I can wait. I mean, I can wait until he gets back. It’s no biggie,” she began, rambling, just trying to get it out without making a complete ass of herself as she began to walk backward. “I mean it
is
a biggie, it’s my family. I just meant—”

“I know what you meant.”

She exhaled the breath and slowly dragged in another; his unique scent, familiar after seven years, rushed over her. It hadn’t changed. Just as he hadn’t.

Her eyes fluttered, partially closing, and she stumbled slightly, unsteady and shaky.

Canton moved as though to steady her, his fingers barely making contact with her elbow.

With just that one touch, a barely there touch really, a thousand memories washed over her.

Her hand reached out to touch the slight stubble on his lean cheek, unknowingly making the contact, and his hand covered hers. His jaw was rough with a few days’ worth of growth.

She remembered the feel of his jaw against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh...

His nostrils flared as she held his glance. His face lowered as though to kiss her, and it snapped her out of her odd trance.

Embarrassed, Naomi recoiled as though he had struck her, her hand falling away from the shocking contact.

A flood of heat flushed her cheeks and she glanced up to see his face had lost the temporary softening and again the unreadable expression was stamped across his handsome features.

“Well, you’re stuck with me. And if I were you, someone needing a
favor
, I would be a lot more...amiable.” The words mild, but the delivery, his expression and tone, were hard, impossibly so. And they hit hard, just the way he intended them to, she knew.

It felt as though he’d doused her with cold water. Naomi nearly recoiled again, feeling his rejection as though it were a physical thing. She barely stopped herself in time.

The look in his eyes wasn’t dislike. It wasn’t pleasant, either.

It was neutral. As though he didn’t care one way or the other what her decision was.

Amiable? What did he mean by that?

Naomi composed herself and placed a calm expression upon her own face, striving for some level of professionalism. Fine. If he could do it, so could she. Besides, she’d only come here for her family.

She’d make a deal with the devil if she had to, to help her parents out.

She made eye contact with Canton again.

He’d shoved the cowboy hat he’d been wearing just the tiniest fraction farther down, as though purposely trying to hide his face from her.

His eyes peered at her, and though his face was shadowed, the hard lines of his squared jaw tightened and for a moment she felt his anger.

She shuddered.

She had to be imagining things. He probably didn’t even remember her, much less be angry about something that happened so long ago. It had been seven years ago, and the encounter fleeting.

Wasn’t nothing to trip about, she affirmed within her own mind.
He
wasn’t anyone to trip over.

A voice in the back of her mind laughed, mocking her. She brushed it aside. Forcefully. As had become her custom whenever it reared its ugly head.

Either way, the way things were turning out, that might just be what she’d be doing: making a deal with the devil.

* * *

Canton opened the door to his home, and as casually as he could, walked inside. He left the door ajar for her to follow. Or not.

The decision was hers.

Before the door closed, he
felt
her hesitancy before her small hand moved and grabbed the doorknob. She pushed it farther open as she followed him inside.

Irritated with himself for being so hyperaware of her, he forced himself to keep walking.

Seeing her after all these years had jolted him, memories slamming into him like a tsunami.

Or a sledgehammer.

He’d never forgotten her. Every moment of their encounter had been permanently etched in his brain.

He didn’t know how much it had, until seeing her for the first time in seven years.

For a moment he thought she remembered him; hell, she had to. The look in her light brown eyes when her hand had risen to touch him. Right then and there, he’d wanted to kiss those luscious lips, attack and devour them...before he devoured the rest of her.

Damn it all to hell!

Ruthlessly, he shut down the flood of memories along with the feelings they wrought. Nothing but irritation was what he felt as he strode inside the house, his booted feet hitting the tile adorning the entry floor with angry precision.

He didn’t have time to deal with this. It had taken several minutes, but his mind made the connection on who she was and what she was doing here. What she wanted from the Wildes.

And it wasn’t to take a trip down memory lane with him. To explain why she left, without a word.

She was here begging for help for her family, not to see him. His brow furrowed.

“You can go in the library,” he finally spoke, his tone curt. “Second door to your right. I’ll be there shortly. I need to take care of something first,” he threw out over his shoulder, indicating with a brusque jerk of his head where she could go.

He barely refrained from telling her where the hell she really could go, his jaw clenching tight as he strode away from her.

“Um, well, okay. Thank you,” she replied, her soft, hesitant voice echoing in the empty house.

Canton
felt
her hesitancy. Again, hyperaware of her. Briefly, against his will, he hesitated before forcing himself to continue to walk away.

Fuck! He mentally bit out the expletive, beyond pissed at himself. He did not
want
to care about her or her goddamn fear.

The fear and uncertainty she felt was palpable and he knew it was for her family. But right now, all he could do was get the hell away from her, if only for a few minutes, and get it together before he faced her again.

Maybe that wasn’t such a good thing, he thought, as he heard the high heels of her leather boots as they tapped behind him on the tile. Maybe he should just hear her out, and as soon as possible get her the hell out.

From his side vision he saw her go inside the door that led to the library as he’d told her to, and felt a level of irritated satisfaction. At least he’d have a moment to get himself in check without her liquid brown eyes staring a hole into him.

Canton flipped on lights as he strode farther inside his family’s home, thankful it was a Friday. For the most part, besides Trudy, their housekeeper, more than likely he’d have the house to himself.

Tiber was still out of the country, and neither one of his younger siblings, Brick or Riley, would be back home until Labor Day to spend a few days, Brick currently overseas, working with one of their customers, and Riley at the university, where she was preparing to defend her dissertation.

He mentally went over the information his brother had given him about the woman he was to meet. At the time, he had no idea it was Naomi; even as he’d glanced over the forwarded email, her name hadn’t registered in his mind. He hadn’t made the mental connection until she’d shown up.

He whipped out his phone and stabbed a finger at the email application. Scrolling through an assortment of junk and personal messages, he found the forwarded one from Tiber.

Rereading the email from his new perspective was a hell of a lot different than before. He and his brother had discussed how to handle the situation. Canton was to hear her out, see where her family stood financially, and offer aid if they needed, with no promises.

The Wildes had been active members of their community since their father had bought the land nearly forty years ago. As one of the leading families in the community, they’d also helped their neighbors, no matter how small, if they could. Their father had instilled in the men the need to not only help family, but their neighbors as well, and the men had carried out the tradition after his death.

Which was one of the reasons Canton had not completely come on board with having business dealings with Rolling Hills. They’d been aware of how it’d been slowly buying up many of the small ranches around the area, leaving fewer and fewer family-owned farms and ranches.