Wilde for You
The Wilde Sisters, Book 3
Marianne Rice
Wilde for You
Copyright © 2016 by Marianne Rice.
All rights reserved.
First Print Edition: May 2016
Limitless Publishing, LLC
Kailua, HI 96734
www.limitlesspublishing.com
Formatting: Limitless Publishing
ISBN-13: 978-1-68058-642-8
ISBN-10: 1-68058-642-4
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
To Tracy. To the good ol’ days of soaking up the sun in kiddie pools, midnight trips to L.L. Bean, and living with Santa Keith and Deb (who rock, BTW). Here’s to chocolate-covered cherries, vodka in our hot chocolate, and stalking the UMO football team. So many good times.
And most importantly, for the shoe inspiration.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Epilogue
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Chapter One
Sage
“So, think you can knock me up?” Sage Wilde’s naked body squirmed on the table, the paper under her crinkling, her feet resting in stirrups as she stared at the ugly white tile on the ceiling. “My pipes clean and working? My oven big enough to cook one?”
“Sage,” Dr. Whitmore sighed. “You’re—” The ringing of a blaring fire alarm cut the doctor off before an automated message echoed through the building.
“Please stay calm and exit the building immediately. Leave all your belongings behind and find the nearest emergency exit. Please exit the building immediately,” the computer-programmed voice repeated.
Sage cursed and jumped off the examination table, her bare feet hitting the cold floor. “My clothes. I need—”
“I’m sorry, Sage, but we need to evacuate now. Your gown will have to do.”
“Are you kidding me? It’s freezing outside.” She closed the gown across her breasts and turned toward her pile of clothes on the windowsill.
The doctor had pulled her halfway out the door before Sage managed to reach down and pick up her red high-heeled boots. She jogged to keep up with the flow of doctors and nurses until they reached the exit. Once outside, Sage tugged her flimsy gown tight in front of her, hoping her butt wasn’t hanging out as she bent over and shoved her feet into her boots.
The crowd was small so early in the morning. Sage always opted for the first appointment of the day; it was less likely the doctor was running behind and her impeccably planned day wouldn’t get altered. She lived by her appointment book, which was linked to her iPhone, iPad, laptop, and email as well. She valued punctuality and had no patience for those who put her behind schedule.
The stupid fire alarm would set her back, and that ticked her off something fierce. Always having something to do, or an electronic device to scroll through, research on, and work on, her hands felt naked and idle. Sage wasn’t one of the most sought-after event planners in southern Maine because she sat around and waited for action to happen. No, she took the initiative, fought for what she wanted, for what her clients wanted, and had a successful business because of it.
Tapping her bright red manicured finger on her teeth, she looked around the crowd. Being the only one wearing a stupid johnny and red boots made her stick out like a hooker in church. She didn’t care about the attention, only that her schedule be kept. Finally, two fire trucks and a few unmarked cars with flashing lights on their roof pulled in front of the medical building.
Great.
Sage tried to stay warm by hopping up and down, but her boobs bounced freely and her butt felt the sharp bite of the cold air every time the johnny flipped up. Standing still went against every natural instinct. Hugging the flimsy, cheap cotton around her body, she willed the firefighters to hurry the hell up. Or at least allow her to run in and fetch her bag.
And her clothes.
Eyes fixed on the front door, waiting for the “all clear” signal, Sage didn’t notice the man behind her until she felt the warm, heavy weight of something around her shoulders. “What the hell?” She twirled around, ready to spit nails, when a very sexy firefighter with dimples as deep as the ocean winked at her. He was tall—six feet, at least—and built like he was very familiar with tossing around a fire hose.
“You looked cold, ma’am.” He pulled his firefighter coat around her body, strapping her in, her arms trapped inside. It weighed a ton and warmed her instantly. Or maybe it was his amused eyes twinkling at her. “Of course, the coat doesn’t quite go with those boots of yours, but I’m thinking at this point you probably don’t mind.”
“Um, no. I’m a fashion faux pas anyway. The doctor wouldn’t let me change before coming out.” Intrigued by the casual flirting of the sexy hunk, she studied the laugh lines that crinkled when he smiled and stared into his eyes, which changed from brown to green to a heated hazel.
Wow.
“That’s a good doctor then. The important thing is that you’re safe.”
Safe, yes. But nearly naked and late didn’t make up for it. Yanking herself from the surprising lust-filled trance Mr. Sex-on-a-Stick put her under, she squared her shoulders and used her business voice. The one that said I’m asking politely but you better get your ass in gear and figure out the problem before I go batshit crazy on you. “I really need to get my things. I’m already late for an appointment. Can you see what the problem is and let me know when I can get out of here?”
The sexy firefighter grinned, making his dimples plunge deeper into his cheek, and winked. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll be right back.”
Sage was only human. Of course she checked out his ass as he walked away. The big yellow, rubber pants were anything but sexy, but the tight black t-shirt he had on under the suspenders revealed enormous chest muscles and biceps that could surely crack a lobster claw. The shirt fit him like a glove, showing off his tapered waist and most likely a delicious set of six-pack abs.
She’d never seen a man built so huge before. She liked her men fit, but there was no need for such excess. Probably the totally vain type who spent too much time at the gym and in front of the mirror. Sage turned her back on him and curled into the uncomfortable jacket.
It smelled faintly of smoke and also carried a clean soapy scent. Mr. Muscles returned quickly, his stride long, slow, and confident. “Looks like you’ll get your clothes back soon.”
“Good. No real emergency then?”
“Burnt bagel in a toaster in the staff lounge.”
“Are you kidding me?” Sage wiggled in an attempt to escape, the weight of the c
oat and the secured straps pinning her arms to her body like a straitjacket. “Can you please unbuckle me? I need to hurry.”
“Always a pleasure helping a lady out of her clothes.”
Sage rolled her eyes. “Please. There’s nothing sexual about this.”
“Really? You’re telling me you’re not naked under this coat?”
“I, uh…no. I’m wearing a johnny.”
“It’s Luke, not Johnny.” Those hazel orbs of sex winked at her.
“Lovely meeting you, Luke. And flirting, but I have to run.”
And run she did. As soon as the crowd started to shuffle for the door she pushed her way through and raced up the stairs to the fourth floor. It still smelled faintly of smoke, but she didn’t care. Burnt bagel. Stupid doctors. Not even bothering to close the door all the way, she shucked her gown, threw on her panties and pencil skirt, and fought with her bra. She slipped her blouse over her head, pulling her arms through her coat as she walked down the hall.
“Sage.” Dr. Whitmore stopped her. “We need to finish up.”
“I’m good, right? I can store, cook, and deliver a baby without any complications?”
“Well, we never guarantee no complications, but—”
“Perfect. I’ll be in touch soon.”
As she walked out, Sage fumbled through her purse for her phone and keys, not seeing Luke until she literally bumped into him. “Easy there, doll. Where’s the fire?”
“Very funny. And it’s Sage, not Doll.”
“’Bout time I got your name.”
“I don’t remember you asking.” Her phone rang and she immediately answered it. “Good morning, Mr. Barrows. I’m glad you called.” She listened to him ramble about the weather, his dry cleaning, and his new client list before cutting him off. The man would talk her ear off if she let him. “That’s wonderful news. I made reservations for The Chowder House in Portland. I’ll meet you in the lounge at five.” She ended the call and scrolled through her planner. Someone cleared his throat and Sage looked up. “I’m sorry, Luke. I need to run. Thanks again for the jacket.”
She walked briskly down the hall and to her SUV, ignoring the smile the firefighter with the great abs and dimples and eyes and ass put on her face.
***
Luke
Luke Riley stored his gear in the firehouse and shucked his clothes in the locker room, heading toward the showers half-naked. He wasn’t usually the forward type of guy, preferring the quiet, prim woman whom he could share a home-cooked meal with. One who wore sneakers or flats. Yet he had never been so intrigued by a woman in all his life. Sage with the sexy-as-hell red boots was something else. She’d flirted for a few seconds and then took off as if his charm hadn’t affected her at all. But he knew it did. Her nipples were rock hard when he took his jacket off her, and he knew it wasn’t from the cold.
Damn. He didn’t even get her last name. Or occupation. He supposed it was against policy for the doctor’s office to give out that information, but he really needed to see her again.
With her clothes on.
And off.
He imagined her body, smooth and dangerous with curves and divots just waiting to be explored by his large hands. Normally Luke preferred his women with long hair. Hair he could run his fingers through and pull back to gain access to her throat as he trailed kisses down her neck. Hair that spread across his pillow and trailed down her naked body. Yet he found Sage’s boyishly short hair sexy and alluring. Her wide green eyes pulled him in and her bright pink lips begged for his attention.
Next time. And there would be a next time. He soaped his hair and body and tried not to imagine Sage’s long fingers doing the job instead. The firehouse shower stall was no place to have sexual fantasies of a woman he just met. If only…Luke smiled as he remembered Sage’s phone conversation.
The Chowder House. Tonight. He’d be there.
***
Sage
Her client was running late. Or rather, wasn’t early. Sage checked the time on her phone and sipped her tonic water. Five minutes to five. Being punctual meant being at the designated location before the set time. Not on the dot or a few minutes later. She drummed her fingers, her nails clicking repetitiously on the bar top table, and sipped her water again, keeping constant watch on the door. Mr. Barrows—she refused to call him by his first name, the man creeped her out—was the best of the best.
The twenty years he had on her wasn’t enough to deter the man from constantly hitting on her, so she scheduled their meetings for safe places. Never her office or his.
She glanced toward the front again and choked on her water as Mr. Sex-on-a-Stick filled the doorway. Instead of his hunky fireman outfit, he wore dark jeans and a navy Patriots pullover. Definitely not stylish, but definitely hot. He made eye contact with her and smiled, those damn dimples making their appearance, begging to be touched.
Or kissed. And licked.
His long stride brought his massive body to her table with only a few steps. “Well, fancy meeting you here. Mind if I join you?” He pulled out a chair and sat next to her before she could reply. “Not that you didn’t look beautiful this morning, but you’re even more breathtaking tonight.” He smiled wickedly.
Oh, the man oozed charm. Probably got into many beds that way. Probably broke a dozen or two hearts as well. “Thank you. And you must go. As you obviously overheard from my phone conversation earlier, I’m meeting someone.”
For some reason his behavior didn’t freak her out. Luke had an innocent yet devilish look to him that charmed her, and she wasn’t one to be charmed. There was something…honest about him. Not that Sage was attracted to honesty. It wasn’t needed when you were only looking into a quick fling.
“Yes. Mr. Barons, is it?”
“Mr. Barrows. And I’m working. Please leave.” She would not succumb to those rich hazel eyes.
“I hate to see a beautiful woman sitting alone. Mind if I keep you company while you wait?”
“I’m sure you can find another more beautiful woman to seduce, Mr…”
“I guess we haven’t been formally introduced. Luke Riley.” He picked up her hand and brought it to his lips.
His hands were large and calloused. Working man’s hands. Not the ones she was accustomed to. Sage typically went out with accountants. Lawyers. Businessmen who weren’t looking for anything more than a woman to bed for a short time. No frills, just wine and dine and schlup. That was her style and a sexy firefighter would not change her pattern.
“Sage Wilde.” She suppressed the urge to shiver as he kept her hand in his and gently stroked her palm with his thumb. “Look, Mr. Riley. I’m sure you’re a nice man. You’re a firefighter and most women find that sexy. But I’m not most women. And I’m not interested,” she lied. If she didn’t have an appointment and a thousand other business things to take care of tonight, she’d gladly go to bed with Luke.
“Are you married?”
Sage snorted. “No.”
“Engaged?”
“Hardly.”
“Then what’s stopping us?”
“I’m stopping us.” She spotted Mr. Barrows coming through the door. “And my date is here, so if you’ll excuse me.” She stood and brushed past him toward her appointment, needing to regain her composure and her space. Unfortunately that meant she looked much too eager to meet her slimy web designer. “Mr. Barrows. Thank you for meeting me.”
“Please. By now I’d expect you to call me Robert. Have you had dinner?”
“I’m fine, thank you. I thought we could meet in the lounge so we won’t take up a table. I don’t think it will take more than twenty minutes to run through my proposal.” She didn’t give him time to argue and turned back toward her table. Thankfully Luke had gotten up and planted himself at the bar. Unfortunately it was only a measly ten feet away.
“Are you sure you don’t want to have dinner?”
“Yes, thank you. I’m anxious to see what you’ve come up with.”
“You’re a genius. I love what you’ve come up with.”
“What we’ve come up with. The ideas came from you. I just put them together. We’re a great team, Sage. I think we should see what else we’d be good at.”
“I think our business relationship is enough.” The man couldn’t take a hint.
“We could give it a shot. Dinner. With me. Tonight.”
Bile nearly came up her throat but was tamed down when a tall shadow fell over her. “I’m sorry I’m late, sweetheart. Are you finished with your meeting?” Luke leaned down and kissed her cheek. She quirked an eyebrow at him and he smirked. “The hostess said our table was ready. I thought you’d be done with your meeting with Mr. Baron.”
“It’s Robert Barrows,” Barrows stated.
“A pleasure, Mr. Barrows. You look familiar. Did you go to school with my dad? He played football for UMaine back in the eighties.”
Sage nearly choked on her laugh. Oh, he was really pissing Barrows off now.
“No. I think that’s a little before my time. Sage, I guess we’re done. Please stop by the office anytime. I’ll get working on your site first thing tomorrow.”
“Thank you. I’ll be in touch.” She stood and bit her tongue until he was gone. Once he was out of earshot she smacked Luke’s chest, biting back her smile. “You’re rotten! You completely offended him!”
“And he offended you by not taking the hint. The guy could be your father and he’s hitting on you. That’s low.”
Wilde For You (The Wilde Sisters Book 3) Page 1