To Claim a Wilde

At the end of her sophisticated tirade against the bully—well, she’d thought it sophisticated at the ripe old age of seven—the bully looked as though she were about to go “in” on both her and Alyssa, not impressed at all with Naomi’s serious words.

So Naomi, with her young face set, hands on hips, told the bully that she’d “fight her like a man” if she ever looked like she wanted to beat Alyssa up again.

She’d no idea where the crazy threat had come from, she thought with a laugh. She’d been just as scared, if not more, of the class bully, but she’d forced the fear away as she stood up to the much bigger girl, not backing down.

Words were all she had, as she knew the girl could beat her up.

Even at a young age, Naomi had used her words as her sword. Either it was the crazy threat or the way she said it that made the bully back away, mumbling about how they’d better stay on their side of the playground. It had become Naomi and Alyssa’s private laugh for fourteen years.

After sobering, Alyssa pinned her friend with her signature look. Naomi refused to squirm beneath her friend’s piercing gray eyes, feeling like a specimen under a microscope.

“Quit staring at me like that. And giving me that cray-cray look of yours. Gives me the creeps,” Naomi groused.

“What look?” Alyssa asked, feigning innocence, holding her cheeks taut as though holding back a laugh.

“You know what look. Don’t even try it. The same look you probably give to one of the frogs in your lab, rubbing your hands together in glee, right before you start slicing into the poor little guy,” Naomi mumbled, making Alyssa’s tinkling laugh ring out.

Which in turn made Naomi grin. Her friend’s light, infectious laugh could make anyone smile. Unlike Naomi’s laugh, big and full, a laugh she’d always been self-conscious about. It was just so...big. Only a few had heard her full laugh, and even fewer had made her laugh that way.

“Poor guy, huh? You know, if you want to be a doctor, you’re going to be doing a whole lotta dicing yourself. And not on anything so mild as a frog’s anatomy!”

“Yeah, but I’ll be in the biz of healing and helping children...not dissecting and murdering innocent amphibians!” she quipped, and both women chuckled.

“Really, with that vivid imagination of yours with the whole ‘rubbing my hands together in glee,’ as I ‘murder’ poor amphibians, on the real, girl, I’m truly convinced that you just might have missed your calling as a writer!” Alyssa said, and they both laughed.

“Listen, Ne Ne,” Alyssa said, automatically calling her by her childhood nickname of long ago. “We are graduating in a month and it’s your birthday!” She paused and gave Naomi a considering look before continuing. “Come on, girl, it’s not every day a woman turns twenty-one! And you promised me on your birthday you’d—”

Naomi held up a hand to stall the rest of her friend’s sentence. “I know, I know, I promised I’d loosen up and, well, umm...”

Alyssa cocked a brow. “And...” she said, allowing the rest of the sentence to dangle, waving a hand encouraging Naomi to continue.

“And find a man to deflower me,” she said, clenching her teeth in an attempt not to laugh.

Alyssa gave up a combo half giggle, half groan at Naomi’s words. “Girl, stop! No you didn’t say ‘deflower’!” Both women laughed outright. “And no I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant have fun, loosen up and well...” Her voice trailed off.

“I’m waiting,” Naomi broke in, when apparently Alyssa seemed hesitant to finish her sentence. Again she felt laughter ready to bubble forth. Maybe this was just what she needed. It had been a while since she had, as Alyssa said, loosened up.

Naomi was celebrating a momentous birthday, and she, as well as her friend, was finishing her senior year at the university, although Alyssa was older than Naomi by a year. Naomi had completed her undergraduate work in three years, shaving off a year, and Alyssa had completed her basic training in the air force for ROTC before entering the university. The two were as close as sisters, and had been since they were children.

“Besides, it’s kinda too late for the whole ‘deflowering’ thing, if you remember?” Naomi reminded her friend.

“Girl, please...that don’t even count. Didn’t you know that if the first time wasn’t any good, you get a do-over? What? Yes. A do-over!” she said, snapping her fingers together. “But that ain’t none of my business, though!” she finished with a smirk and lifted her glass to her mouth and took a sip...staring at Naomi over the rim.

Again Naomi laughed.

“Well, be that as it may. My one and only time left a lot to be desired. And not only that, but I haven’t even dated since then. Not that I’ve had all that much experience anyway,” Naomi said with a glum look.

“And whose fault is that?”

“Doesn’t matter. You know school comes—” Naomi replied, ready to shoot with her standard answer.

“First,” Alyssa interrupted and filled in for her, raising a palm. “Yeah, yeah, I know. You’ve always got that answer locked and loaded, girlfriend, ready to fire. But you promised we’d celebrate your birthday and graduation. What better way than to find some sexy beast and let him have his way with you, oooh Papi give it to me,” Alyssa quipped, making goofy kissing sounds as she pooched her lips out. Naomi groaned at the cheesy reference to her favorite, even cheesier, classic romance film, but had to laugh along with Alyssa at her crazy antics.

It wasn’t that Naomi didn’t want to loosen up, as Alyssa said, and have fun. She’d just always been so focused.

Besides, most of the boys her own age just didn’t do it for her. They all seemed so...young.

She sighed. “I don’t know, Lyssa. What if I do it and end up falling in love with said guy I do it with, quit school, stay around here in Wyoming, have a bunch of kids, and never fulfill my dream of being a doctor? Huh? Huh? What then?” she asked, half joking, half serious. It was one of her fears to stay in their hometown and do...nothing with her life.

“Really, Ne Ne? All that is going to happen? Girl, I swear you’re going into the wrong profession. You should really think about becoming a writer!”

“Ha!” Naomi replied, taking a drink and settling back in her seat.

“Listen, I’m not saying you gotta fall in love with the first guy you get involved with or do it with!” She stopped and qualified the statement, as Naomi opened her mouth. “Reallllly do it with,” she said, and Naomi grunted. “Girl, just do it, have fun and move on! Seriously, that’s my motto. Ain’t nobody got time for falling in love!” Alyssa chuckled at her own joke.

“Hmm. I don’t know. Most of the guys I know just don’t do it for me. At all. Not even a little bit,” Naomi replied with a deep sigh.

Feeling warm, she stood up to take off her leather jacket, to which Alyssa shot her an approving look and mumbled, “Finally!”

“And I think you’ve been reading those romance books of yours way too much. Trust me, if it were that easy to find Mr. Right, I would have been married with a bunch of kids a long time ago! And besides, what if that did happen, would that be so bad? Tall, dark and fine could be just the ticket for you! Have a hot, sexy brief affair, release some of that tension you carry around like a bad habit. Hmmm.” Alyssa stopped, a thoughtful expression crossing her small gamine features as she took a sip of her drink, lost in thought.

Naomi was contemplative when her friend grew quiet, and she removed her jacket, feeling warm and actually more comfortable than she thought she would feel.

Maybe Alyssa was right.

Maybe a fun rendezvous was all she needed, with a tall, dark— Her thoughts were cut short when she looked up, her jacket in her hand, and met the cornflower-blue eyes of one of the hottest men in Wyoming, Canton Wilde.

She swallowed, hard.

Although she was younger than Canton by at least three or four years, Naomi knew of him. Heck, every female under the age of ninety-nine in and around Cheyenne knew of Canton, as well as his siblings. Not only were they one of the richest families in the area, if not the richest, the men were so hot, so sought-after, they could all collectively star in their own reality show, of the Bachelor competition variety.

Tall, he had to be over well over six feet, easily a full foot taller than her own five feet four inches.

From where he stood, the light from the bar showed his full body, face and all. But in reality, Naomi knew what he looked like from memory.

He wore his dark blond hair closely cropped to his well-shaped head, while a stubble of a beard the same dark blond shade shadowed his chiseled squared jaw. His long nose was aquiline. And she knew that the slight bump in the center, he’d gotten being tackled in high school while playing football.

Her glance slid over his beautiful male form.

Casually, he wore jeans that sculpted and hugged his thick thighs and muscular legs. The light from the bar seemed to focus on the center of his jeans, and his zipper, and the distinct bulge thereabouts. Or maybe it was her own lust that had her helplessly gazing at the man’s crotch like some kind of wanton woman.

Whatever it was, helpless, she stared at him, transfixed. She forced her gaze away and met his eyes, his glance hot and filled with something she dare not name...

Was it her imagination, or was she really seeing what she thought she was seeing? Naomi wondered, wetting her lips with a quick swipe of her tongue. And if so, then...dare she?

Why not? she thought, a plan forming in her mind. Why not...proposition Canton Wilde? Not as if it hadn’t happened to him before; she well knew his rep. Besides, who better to really, uh, deflower her than him, she thought, feeling bolder by the millisecond as she allowed the wild thought to marinate in her mind.

She bit her lower lip, wondering if she dared to be so bold?

Naomi let go of her lip and smiled.

It was small at first. Just one side of her mouth kicked up.

The stronger the thought took root in her mind, the naughtier, the bolder, she felt.

Empowered, even.

Now both sides of her mouth lifted up, until a full-toothed smile took over her face with a mind of its own.

His bright cornflower-blue eyes widened, and his own very sensual mouth lifted in the corner. Naomi just about melted right there on the spot. Dear God, the man was beyond sexy. He oozed sex appeal like other men sweat.

Question was, did she have what it took to actually go through with what was fermenting in her mind?

They held each other’s gazes, communicating on some odd, unique wavelength that was new, fresh, exciting. One that only they felt, only they knew about.

It was as though they were sharing some secret of the universe that no one else could claim.

The club, the noise, Alyssa, all faded away as she held Canton Wilde’s penetrating, hypnotic deep blue gaze.

Her nipples hardened beneath her gauzy blouse.

As though he knew, though there was no way he could tell from their distance away from each other, Canton’s gaze wandered, briefly, to her breasts before returning to her eyes.

She inhaled a swift breath.

Naomi couldn’t have looked away had her friend told her the club was on fire.

Chapter 2

“But then again, would it be sooo bad meeting Mr. Right? How romantic would that be... I mean sure, you’d have to stay in Wyoming, but then again— Uh, Naomi?”

Naomi was oblivious to the small fingers being snapped in front of her face. “Girl...are you even listening to me? Naomi?” Now frustration flavored her friend’s tone.

Alyssa stopped her monologue and stared at Naomi, still snapping her fingers in front of Naomi’s face in an attempt to get her friend’s attention.

Naomi tore her gaze away from Canton and turned her focus to her friend.

“Huh?” she asked, feeling completely unglued.

Naomi had no idea how long she and Canton Wilde had exchanged that long, intense moment.

For Naomi, it felt as though time had stood still. Unconsciously, she brought her fingers to her forehead to wipe away the sweat she knew just had to be there.

Dear God, the man had brought her to a heated mess with just a look. But it was more than a look. It was a sensual exchange, the likes of which she’d never experienced.

“Girl, ummm, are you okay?” Alyssa asked, a look of concern etched on her pretty face.

“Yeah, I’m good... I, just, uh, was checking out everything,” Naomi murmured, trying to gather her wits about her enough to form a coherent reply. “That’s all,” she replied, forcing a casual smile. “So this is game night, huh? Looks like fun!” she went on, completely flustered from her exchange with Canton Wilde, but trying desperately to adopt a cheerful facade for her friend. “I should have let you bring me here before! Of course, as I’m just now legally able to, I guess that couldn’t have happened, huh?”

Naomi clamped her mouth shut, feeling as though she were blabbering. Nerves. That’s all it was.

Rattled nerves had her blabbering incoherently, sweating and acting crazy.

She offered Alyssa another shaky smile, hooked her jacket over the back of her bar stool and climbed back onto the high-backed chair.

She hastily lifted her drink from the table and brought the cool glass tumbler to her lips.

Alyssa was watching her carefully, a concerned look on her face.

“You sure you’re okay?”

Naomi waved her concern away with a flip of her hand as she took a healthy swallow of the drink Alyssa had ordered them.

The alcohol smoothly went down, the taste a curious blend of sweet and sour; oddly mellow, and very good.

Moments later, the liquid began to burn her throat slightly. But it was too late; Naomi had drunk half the glass before she realized its potency.

She scowled and placed the drink on the table, and gave her friend a look. “Girl, what in the world did you order for me?” she asked with a squeaky voice, the strength of the alcohol compromising her vocal cords temporarily.

“Oh, it’s not that bad! It’s just an apple martini. They’re delicious!” Alyssa replied, and to prove her point took a healthy swallow of her own.

With a lifted brow Naomi watched her friend try to fake the funk and pretend the drink wasn’t strong.

She gave her friend kudos when she held her own, only giving a slight grimace, but still had to tease her. “Uh-huh, right!”

“Well, I thought it was innocent!” Alyssa said, holding back a laugh. “But, look, it came with a little umbrella. How could anything be bad that comes with its own little parasol?” Ever the comedian, she lifted the tiny drink accessory in her hand and twirled it around. “Awwww...see, isn’t it cute?”

“Yeah, sure, Lyssa. It’s about as cute and innocent as a baby rattlesnake,” Naomi replied drily.

“You know, the drinks they serve here on game night are known to sprout hairs on your chest. If you’re not used to strong drinks, you might wanna stick with a Shirley Temple.”

Naomi swiveled in her chair and nearly fell out of her seat when she glanced up, way up, into the eyes of Canton Wilde.

When she toppled forward, but before she could actually fall, he was there, big hand cupping her elbow, steadying her.

“You okay?” he asked in his deep, sexy-as-hell voice.

Large, sculpted, beautifully defined muscles were revealed in the short-sleeved checked shirt he wore as he held on to her arm. In reflex, she grabbed his forearm to steady herself, feeling the ripple of coiled masculine strength beneath her fingertips.

Naomi barely repressed the desire to hold on and never, ever let go. She bobbed her head up and down, robbed of speech when he asked her again if she were okay.

Girl, get yourself together, she mentally chastised herself.

“Yeah, um, I’m fine,” she said, not speaking much above a whisper, and she didn’t think he heard her in the loud club.

“Yeah, you are,” he replied.

Startled, not thinking she heard right, Naomi’s eyes flew to his, and she flushed at the look in his stare.

The clarity of his meaning shone brightly in his gaze, and Naomi knew he was the one.

Standing so close to her, Naomi could smell him. Her eyes nearly feathered shut at his appeal. His cologne was lightly woodsy, blending with his own natural scent, which made for an intoxicating aroma.

She inhaled deeply, taking in all of him, everything feminine in her coming alive as she reveled in his unique masculine scent.

Naomi made a bold decision.

One she probably wouldn’t have made had she been (1) completely sober, and (2) not goaded into a rash act by her friend’s meddling.

Actually, in her heart Naomi knew that Alyssa had nothing, absolutely nothing to do with the decision she was making. The decision to claim Canton Wilde for the night.

Just one night.

“May I?” he asked, interrupting her scandalous musings.

“Yes, um, of course,” she said, without looking or asking Alyssa if it was okay for him to sit with them.

In all honesty, Alyssa had all but vanished from her mind and thoughts.

Which was why she didn’t notice the “shit-eating grin,” as her daddy would call the look on Alyssa’s face. Or her mumbled excuse to leave the table, to go say hi to a “friend” she saw across the bar.

For Canton and Naomi, there was no one else but the two of them. He sat across from her and placed his hand over hers and she shivered.

“Before I ask to buy you a drink, will you share your name?” he asked, a deep dimple creased just one cheek, and Naomi nearly groaned aloud at the sexy characteristic. “Can I buy you a drink?” he asked.

She shook her head and offered a slight grin.

“No, you won’t tell me your name, or no, I can’t buy you a drink?” he asked, and her grin widened.

“No, no! I mean, yes, you can ask my name, but no, I have had enough. I, um, think I need to keep a clear head around you, Canton Wilde,” she said and nearly bit her tongue out when he widened his eyes.

“I’m at a disadvantage, apparently. You know mine, but I don’t know yours,” he said, the small smile still in place, and she relaxed.

“It’s Naomi. Naomi McBride. And I, um, I know about you and your brothers. Your sister, too. I mean, who doesn’t know about you? I mean, the Wildes. I mean—”

She stopped, and clamped her mouth shut. If she said “I mean” one more time, she’d find a way to kick her own ass...

He laughed outright.

Hmm. Naomi barely held back a moan. The sound of his full laughter caused several people around them to turn and look. The closest table was a group of women, who all gave Canton a head-to-toe, in-depth once-over. Something Naomi was sure he got a lot. The man was fine with a capital F.

The fact that he was looking only at her, and not giving the table of ogling women any notice, made her smile brighten just that much more and her confidence kick up another notch.

“Well, if I can’t buy you a drink, how about a dance?” he asked, grin still in place on his fine face.

The thought of being that close to Canton, his unique scent washing over her, brought a fresh rash of goose bumps slithering over her entire body.

Naomi was hopeful yet nervous of what might be...

She made a promise to herself right then that before the night was over, if she had her way, they’d be doing a lot more than dancing.

Naomi nodded and smiled, meeting his hot blue stare, his eyes searching hers for what, she had no clue. She drew in a ragged breath as she held his gaze before she placed her small hand within his much larger one.

As he led her to the dance floor, she gave no protest when he drew her body close, so tight...she felt the length of his hardness, his girth against her stomach. She swallowed. Oh, my...

As he wrapped his strong, muscled arms around her slim waist, without thought or hesitation Naomi brought her hands up to rest on his hips, her fingers casually twisting around the loops of his belt while her head rested against his rock-hard chest.

The beat of his heart strummed strongly, deeply, against her ear. Even his heartbeat was purely masculine.

Hypnotic.

She allowed her eyes to drift close.

Chapter 3

Seven years later

Canton Wilde leaned back against the antique brass railing surrounding the wraparound porch, crossed his big booted feet one over the over, and observed the woman he’d been watching for over fifteen minutes.

His attention was fixed, unwavering on the woman. With little thought to the brisk air besides lifting the collar of his worn plaid shirt, Canton continued his observation of her. She appeared to be in the midst of fighting a losing battle with the seat belt inside her old Jeep. Even though he was a distance away, Canton could clearly feel her irritability.

A chuckle erupted from his mouth.

He shoved away from the railing.

Canton wasn’t sure if it was the surprise of his own chuckle, one he admitted, if only to himself, was a rare thing to hear. Or if it was the sight of the woman as she finally emerged from the Jeep that made him catch his breath and push away. Once he got a good look, his Wilde instinct kicked in...it was more of the latter than the first.

He narrowed his eyes and leaned back again, at an angle that placed him away from her line of vision should she glance his way.

Damn if he even knew what in hell had made him stop in the first place. He’d intended to grab something to eat and a beer at the end of the day, tired as hell and pissed off at the latest load of crap he’d had to deal with from Cyrus White, the representative from the Rolling Hills Corporation, a task he detested.

His older brother, Tiber, who like him and his siblings was part owner of Wilde Oil Enterprises, was also the family lawyer. Tiber was the Wilde who dealt with the other bigwigs, execs and lawyers alike. Tiber was the sophisticated Wilde. The Wilde who dealt with the likes of snakes such as Cyrus without wanting to wring his narrow-ass neck. Something Canton wished like hell to do. But he promised Tiber he’d refrain.

Tiber was all the things Canton was not. Refined, tactful when need be, when dealing with other corporate types. A fact Canton was immensely happy about.

Until he’d had to take over for his brother.

He bit out a curse.

Tiber was out of country at the moment, so the job of acting CEO fell to Canton. He’d much rather be out on one of their oil rig sites with the men, overseeing the drill or working on one of the rigs right alongside them as he was known to do on occasion. Somewhere he’d be right now had he not had to fill in for his brother.

Being in the field with the men was much better than behind some damn desk dealing with corporate America.

If Canton had his way, he’d have nothing to do with either Cyrus or Rolling Hills. Neither the man nor the company he represented had sat well with Canton. Something was off about both. He always left feeling apprehensive and annoyed after any dealings with either. And he never felt that way when he was on the rig.

But at the last family meeting, he, along with his brothers, Tiber and Brick, and their younger sister, Riley, had decided that they’d hear the company out, after the board had given Tiber a report containing the preliminary offer. Canton, as CFO, had already gone over the numbers several times with their head of accounting.

After the family made a favorable decision, Tiber, who was at the time acting CEO of Wilde Oil Enterprises, was to be the contact for the Wildes with Rolling Hills.

That was before there was trouble with one of the Wildes’ international accounts and Tiber had been forced to go overseas and handle the issue personally. Which left Canton in the position of temporary CEO until his return.