Chapter 12
CHAPTER 12
B ex stood at the foot of the large four-poster bed in a southern estate. The air was warm and her body heated as she watched Wilder walk into the bedroom. He yanked his necktie from his shirt as he stalked toward her. It wasn’t fear she was feeling. It was sizzling tension waiting to be set free.
“I found you and now you’re mine.”
His hand came up and gently clasped her neck, angling her face up to his. “Then make me yours. But if you do that, you’ll be mine as well,” Bex told him.
Wilder leaned forward, his lips a breath away from hers. Bex felt the heat from her core spreading until she was engulfed in flames and only Wilder could put them out. “I’m already yours,” Wilder whispered against her lips. Then he kissed her. Not like the men she’d dated had. They’d been intimidated. Tentative. No, Wilder was determined. He knew what he wanted and he took it. The playfulness was gone and in its place was a master of sexuality. He cupped her breast as he feasted on her mouth. She groaned as he rolled her nipple between his strong fingers. His tongue surged into her mouth as his hips ground against hers.
He shoved her dress up and then his fingers delved between her thighs. The first touch had her moaning his name. The second had her screaming it.
“Bex?” She heard Wilder say as his hand burned where he touched her knee. “Bex? Time to wake up. We’re almost there.”
Bex’s eyes flew open. They were not on a four poster in a southern estate and Wilder was not ravishing her like some spicy romance novel. Her face flushed as she realized her legs were crossed as they rubbed against her very sensitive clit and her breasts ached. Could Wilder tell?
“Oh, um. Sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“No problem. You needed it after the day you’ve had.” Wilder turned and looked at her. “Good dream?” he smirked.
“I’ve had better.” His smirk fell and Bex looked out the window trying not to die of embarrassment. They’d talked about their life and their relationships. She knew she wasn’t his type. All the women he’d dated had been rich socialites or models. Then he shifted to professionals—accountants, business owners, doctors, and so forth. But, a detective? Not even close. Add in her crazy family, her wild curly hair, and curves that would give supermodels nightmares, and that added up to making her undateable to him. Not that he found her attractive.
Wilder hadn’t done anything improper since she met him. Even if Bex thought he might have shown some interest here or there. Telling Wilder how attracted she was to him was a no-no due to her position as a detective investigating him. It wasn’t only his looks that attracted Bex to him. If she’d only been drawn to his looks, this would have been so much easier. No, it was who he was as a person that Bex found attractive. How he thought, what he believed in, and what kind of person he really was under the flashy smile and Mr. Popular's outward personality.
“I thought we’d go to my Charleston apartment first. We can get cleaned up and then meet with Peter.” Teasing Wilder was gone. Serious Wilder was back.
“Um, I don’t have anything I can wear. I don’t even have a pair of shoes.”
“There’s a little boutique a block from my house. I’ll run in and pick you up something while you take a shower. That is, if you want to take one.”
“Thank you. That’s nice of you.”
“That’s me. Mr. Nice Guy,” Wilder made it sound like a bad quality, but Bex didn’t understand why.
“Yes, you are. And that’s a very good thing, Wilder.” Bex reached out and touched his knee. That electric tension of attraction shot between them and she quickly removed her hand. It would be very unprofessional to fall for someone who’d been a suspect yesterday and was now the target of a DA investigation. She had to keep telling herself that or she was going to cross a line she wouldn’t be able to go back across.
Wilder pulled into his assigned parking spot at the side of the beautiful old mansion-turned-condos near the Battery and White Point Garden. The mansion was owned by Miss Tibbie and her husband, Mr. Elijah F. Cummings. Eventually, it got too big for them so they divided it up into a small number of condos. Olivia, his sister, had lived in one of them before she moved to Shadows Landing full-time with her husband. Wilder purchased the one next to Olivia’s when her stalker neighbor had been convinced to move somewhere far, far away by the Townsend brothers.
“Wow,” Bex said in wonder. He didn’t want to admit how much it bothered him when she shot him down. Hell, it wasn’t even him. It was her dream about him. She’d moaned his name in her sleep and he’d almost driven off the road. Then she shot him down before yanking him back up with a touch of her hand. He felt like a yo-yo trying to figure out where he stood with her. “This is just like in the movies.”
“Never been to Charleston?” Wilder asked before he climbed out of the truck and met her by her door.
“Never. We only went to the Jersey shore for vacation. This is . . . just wow.”
He chuckled but in a good way. He’d grown protective of his new hometown of Charleston and Shadows Landing. He liked the laid-back pace and the understated elegance of the town. Shadows Landing was completely different since it was a small town grounded in pirate lore, but it was just as friendly and laid back.
Wilder entered the code to the front door and opened it for Bex.
“Wilder, dear. As I live and breathe, you’ve brought a woman home to meet me finally.”
Miss Tibbie stood in the lobby collecting her mail with her little dog on a rhinestone leash at her feet. Meanwhile, Miss Tibbie was decked out in a winter blue and silver skirt suit with an ivory cashmere scarf for the chilly sixty-four-degree weather.
Wilder smiled and placed a kiss on Miss Tibbie’s cheek. “Mrs. Elijah Cummings, may I introduce Detective Bexley Moretti of the NYPD? Bex, this is Miss Tibbie. She owns the building and is a friend of ours.”
Wilder could tell Bex wasn’t sure of what to do as Miss Tibbie pulled her into a hug. “Oh, darling. It is such a pleasure to meet you. You’re just as pretty as a peach. Welcome to Charleston, my dear.”
Bex looked stunned and Wilder tried not to laugh. This would not be the reaction she got in New York. “It’s nice to meet you too, ma’am.”
Miss Tibbie patted her hand. “Such good manners too. How did you manage that being from the city?”
Bex blinked because she couldn’t tell if she’d just been complimented or insulted and Wilder had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. “Miss Tibbie, New Yorkers can have manners too.”
Miss Tibbie snorted. “You’re laying it on thick trying to impress the girl I see, Wilder. Now, tell me, how did you two lovebirds meet?”
This time it was Bex who snorted at the idea of them being lovebirds. Wilder put his arm around her shoulder and placed a kiss on her temple. That shocked her back into silence. “This angel here tried to set me up and arrest me. But it turned out I saved her life so she’s paying me back by being my girlfriend.”
Bex gasped. Miss Tibbie swatted his arm. “Bless your heart, young man. I suppose you stole her shoes so she can’t run away from your wild tale.”
Wilder couldn’t hold back the laughter then. “Nope, we had to sneak out of a hospital and she was in heels. We had to improvise.”
“Wilder,” Bex hissed, trying to get him to shut up. What Bex couldn’t know was Miss Tibbie and her husband literally ran Charleston society. They needed her on their side and there was no point lying to her. Miss Tibbie could ferret out secrets faster than planning a garden party. There was no point lying to her.
“It’s okay, Bex. Miss Tibbie will help us if we need it.”
Miss Tibbie’s kind smile slipped. “You’re not just telling a tale, are you?”
“No, ma’am,” Bex answered.
“Well, you better tell me all of it while we ride up to the elevator. Elijah will be thrilled to hear the latest gossip. You know he’ll want to help. He does love getting into the thick of it. I can’t keep that man out of trouble.”
Wilder pursed his lips. Elijah Cummings only cared about hanging out at his yacht club, drinking bourbon, and keeping his wife happy. It was Miss Tibbie who reveled in being in the thick of things. But she reminded Wilder of a southern grandmother and he couldn’t help but love her for it as he gave her a condensed summary of events on the elevator ride to his floor.
“Goodness, darling,” Miss Tibbie said, patting Bex’s hand. “I’ll bring you down some clothes. I have a pile of shoes that my family has stored to go to the yacht. I’ll bring you a pair to hold you over.”
Wilder escorted Bex from the elevator. “That’s real kind of you, Miss Tibbie,” Bex told her. “I’d appreciate it.”
Wilder escorted Bex down the hall and unlocked the door to his condo for her. He watched nervously as she took in the living room and kitchen combo. It wasn’t huge, but it was perfect for late nights after the club.
“It’s beautiful,” Bex told him.
“Thank you. Olivia put it together for me after I bought it. Let me show you around and get you some towels for the shower.”
Miss Tibbie arrived by the time he finished the tour. She handed Bex a bag full of items which Bex thanked her for and took to the shower. Wilder flopped down on the couch as the sound of the shower lulled him into sleep.
The shower was heaven. It had a rain showerhead in the middle of the ceiling of the marble-encased shower. Then there were three other adjustable shower jets along the back wall that made it feel like Bex was receiving a massage while she washed her hair. Miss Tibbie had not only packed a dress, a sweater, and a pair of shoes, but she’d also included a toothbrush, perfume, facial cream, luxury bath gel, shampoo, and conditioner. The woman was a fairy grandmother who had blessed Bex’s heart before whispering that Wilder was a good one and she might think of better things to do with her handcuffs besides arresting him.
Bex had blushed but she couldn’t deny she didn’t think of that while she was in the shower. Especially when the lack of women’s items around the condo had surprised Bex. It was as if Wilder never had women staying here. There was no extra toothbrush. No tampons. No fruity shampoo. Bex wasn’t exactly expecting a parade of women to come out of his house, but she was expecting more than, well, nothing.
The hot water soothed her sore muscles and helped clear the last of the brain fog from the GHB as she pondered what the lack of women’s items around the condo meant. The towels were soft and fluffy, and as Bex dried off, she hoped for the best with her curly hair. It was prone to going wild with no hair product, so the best she could do was try to contain it with a hairband. She pulled out the matronly dress Miss Tibbie had loaned her, the cardigan, and a pair of boat shoes. She looked like a preppy grandmother. Maybe that was the fashion in South Carolina?
Bex opened the bathroom door wanting to discuss that she was slightly nervous about having to meet this FBI agent, only to find Wilder fast asleep on the couch. His face was soft in slumber. No clenching jaw. No narrowed eyes. Just a man who was exhausted because he’d driven for thirteen hours and been up for who knew how long protecting her.
A feeling of caring and a sudden desire to take care of him hit Bex’s heart so hard that she had trouble standing. Bex sat on the edge of the couch and pushed his hair from his forehead. Wilder really had protected her at all times. He’d saved her from the drugging and assault. He got her to the hospital, helped orchestrate her escape, and was now personally protecting her—all when she’d been sent to take him down. If there had ever been any question about Wilder’s character, those questions were laid to rest. It was not her time to protect him. She wanted to care for him as he’d cared for her.
Wilder’s eyes fluttered open and he caught her leaning over him, brushing his hair away from his face. “You smell good,” he sleepily murmured as he lifted his hand and cupped her cheek. His hand was warm and Bex leaned into it. It was hard to keep her heart out of her actions after their talks during the trip and how Wilder had been with her. If only she could be the type of woman Wilder would want. Yet, even if she were, where would that put her in terms of her career? Well, if she still had a career after this.
“You’re tired, Wilder. Let me take care of you.”
Wilder leaned up at the same time his hand slipped from her cheek to her neck and he pulled her toward his lips. He was going to kiss her. And she was going to let him.
“I’ve wanted to do this since I first saw you, Bex.” Wilder stopped millimeters from her lips and waited for permission to kiss her.
She had a decision to make. Did she push all these feelings aside and just do her job or did she give in? Would it somehow affect her job, her decision making, her duty to protect and serve? No. She knew instantly. If Wilder was guilty, there’d be no way she’d let him off. She’d insist on placing him in cuffs herself. That made everything else crystal clear. She had feelings for Wilder Townsend and she was going to follow them. “Then what are you waiting for?”