Too Wilde to Tame (39 page)

"So you'll be forced to make an honorable woman out of me?" She rolled her eyes, though it did sound like something her brothers would do. "No one is going to force you to marry me. It's the twenty-first century. Living in sin is pretty much acceptable these days."

He wondered if living in sin was preferable to her, and knew he wanted, needed, more than that. "So what would it take to convince you to marry me?"

Her eyes widened in startled surprise, which was quickly replaced with uncertainty. "A proposal?" she said cautiously, as if he'd just asked her a trick question. As if she couldn't believe he'd want to make her his wife.

Rolling to his side, he lifted up on his arm and stared down at her. A proposal was something he could easily handle. "Mia Wilde, I love you. Will you marry me? Will you be my lover, my best friend, my wife, and the mother of our children?"

Tears gathered in her eyes, tears of disbelief and joy and wonder. "Oh, wow," she breathed.

She was making him wait. Killing him with her silence.

Then she smiled, and he'd never seen her look so beautiful. So confident. So utterly unafraid. "Yes," she whispered. "Yes, I'll marry you."

"Thank God," he said in relief because he didn't want to have to go another day without her in it.

He kissed her again, and this time she pushed him onto his back and took charge. As she set out to seduce him, Cameron knew without a doubt that life with this particular Wilde woman would never be boring.

And he wouldn't want it any other way.

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Born to Be Wilde

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"I need your help."

Startled by the desperate request drifting through the phone line, Joel Wilde's fingers tightened around the cordless receiver pressed to his ear. It had been years since he'd heard that voice, but he recognized it instantly. A friend. A comrade. The man who'd literally saved his life.

"Zach?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah, buddy, it's me." Zach Marshall's forced chuckle fell flat. "It's been a while, huh?"

Over four years, to be exact, Joel thought as he sat down on one of the bar stools in his kitchen. As Marine's they'd been assigned to the same unit, and after serving their country for six years, they'd both opted not to re-enlist. Their last mission in Somalia had been harrowing, to the point that neither of them had been eager to repeat such an unpleasant experience. Joel wanted to join the real world again and live a normal life, free from strict rules, relentless, rigorous missions, and being responsible for other men's lives.

After being honorably discharged, he and Zach had spent two weeks together living it up—carousing and partying with a bevy of willing women, and making up for all the wild, frivolous fun they'd missed out on during their tour of duty. Then they'd gone their separate ways—with Zach driving off to Atlantic City with his wallet filled with the savings he'd accumulated during his time in the Marines, and Joel heading back to Chicago where he'd grown up, to figure out what he was going to do with his life now that he was no longer a part of the U.S. Marine Corps.

He'd spent nearly two years doing oddball jobs before going into business with three fellow ex-Marines as security agents. They'd formed ESS Group, Elite Security Specialists, and were hired to do everything from setting up security at venues and special events and protecting high-profile clients, to undercover work when it was warranted. In just a few years time, the company had become one of Chicago's top respected security firms.

He'd tried to keep in touch with Zach over the years, but Zach was a wanderer, always seeking action and adventure. He was a good guy at heart, but unfortunately, because of the chronic problem he had with drinking and gambling, he usually found trouble instead. Which brought Joel back to the reason behind his friend's call.

"What's going on, Zach?" Joel was compelled to ask, but dreaded the answer.

"I'm in trouble. Big trouble." Zach's voice cracked with the faintest hint of despair. "I owe a bookie a shit load of money that I don't have."

Joel wasn't surprised, just disappointed that his friend hadn't changed his ways. Obviously Zach hadn't learned his lesson after one of their comrades, Bruno, had beat the crap out of Zach when he'd neglected to pay up the five hundred bucks he'd lost to the big, burly Marine during a poker game while they'd been serving in Somalia.

Joel blew out a rough stream of breath. "How much?"

A noticeable pause ensued before Zach finally answered. "Over fifty grand."

Joel's mind reeled with disbelief, and a ripe curse escaped his lips before he could stop it. "Jesus, Zach, I don't have that kind of cash to give you."

"I know, and I swear I'm not asking you for it," Zach tried to assure him. "But this situation involves more than just me. Remember my sister, Lora?"

They'd never met personally, but Joel did, indeed, remember bits and pieces about Lora Marshall. Zach had openly shared the amusing letters his sister had written to him on a weekly basis during their stint in the Marines, and the occasional picture she'd sometimes include along with the correspondence.

It had been a very long time since Joel had seen any of those photos, or even thought of Lora Marshall, but as he closed his eyes her features easily filled his mind. She'd possessed a lovely face with soft, pretty features, which was framed by her rich, shoulder-length brown hair that looked shiny and silky to the touch. He recalled being drawn to her laughing, inviting blue eyes, and a smile that was both sweet and sensual in an understated way.

Joel's gut clenched at the thought of Zach putting her life in jeopardy somehow. "What does your sister have to do with any of this?"

"I need you to watch over her and make sure she's protected," Zach said on a quick rush of breath. "These people I'm dealing with want their money badly… and there's a good chance they'll be looking for her."

Joel jammed his fingers through his too long hair and frowned, not liking the direction this conversation was taking. "And why would they be looking for Lora?"

The silence that followed was deafening.

"Dammit, Zach," he bit out harshly, his own anger rising swiftly to the surface. "You can't just drop something like this on me and not tell me what the hell is going on. If your sister's life is at risk, in any way at all, I need details, all of them, in order to keep her safe."

"Okay, I'll tell you everything you need to know." Zach's tone was more subdued now, to match the grave situation. "Just promise me that no matter what, you'll look after her until I get this mess taken care of. I might have to disappear for a while, and she doesn't have anyone else. I need to know that she's in good hands, and you're the only one I trust to keep her safe from any harm."

Joel absently rubbed a hand over his jean clad thigh, right where a puckered scar resided—an ugly, glaring reminder of how Zach had once risked his own life to save his during a covert mission. Joel owed him, and while Zach hadn't come right out and said as much, Joel was certain that his friend was counting on that return favor now.

Keeping an eye on Zach's sister was the least Joel could do for his friend. "You have my word," he promised.