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With a weak smile, he all but bolted into the bathroom. She waited until she heard the
beat of the water spray against the shower walls before climbing out of bed and finding
something to wear in her own bag.
If he wanted to act like she was just one more notch on his bedpost, fine. Because that
was all he was to her a notch, a good time, a lay.
Yup, she thought as she padded out to the kitchen. Jude Wilde meant nothing to her.
Nothing at all.
Chapter Eight
Holy hell, she really had meant only one night.
Jude stared through the sliding patio doors at her in wonder. He d thought for sure after
the rocking good time they d had, she was going to be supple, sexy putty in his hands for
the rest of their stay in Key West. Maybe if he gave her enough pleasure in bed, she d
even consider giving him a chance to prove that he wasn t the kind of man she thought
he was.
But there she sat, sunbathing in one of the loungers with the cat snoozing by her feet,
completely ignoring him for a book. And it wasn t even the good kind, like one of the
action packed, edge-of-your-seat thrillers Camden often read. No, it was a history of
criminal law in Revolutionary America.
Boring.
In fact, she d had her nose buried in one dull book after another all week. She d barely
said more than ten words to him since their first night here, and she definitely hadn t
touched him again, which was starting to drive him a little bit insane. He needed to feel
her hands on him. Her mouth. Needed to feel her tight body giving way to his invasion,
over and over again until
Jude cursed and paced away from the window. He was losing his fucking mind. As much
as he loved this house, the walls were starting to close in on him and the air felt thick in
his lungs despite the blasting A/C. Her scent permeated everything, hanging in the air
like a vanilla fog. He was suffocating, boredom and unquenched desire making for a
smothering blanket. He had to get out. Had to do& something.
He glanced over his shoulder. Libby hadn t moved, hadn t acknowledged his presence in
any way. She wouldn t miss him if he stepped out for a few and with this place wired up
like the freakin Federal Reserve, he could set his phone to warn him at the slightest hint
of trouble. He doubted there would be any. The twice-daily emails he got from his
brothers said everything was mostly quiet on the home front. They had found the blue car
that tried to run Libby down abandoned in a mall s parking lot, but it gave no clues as to
the identity of her stalker. It had been stolen from an apartment building three miles
from her office complex and the owner was a pregnant woman on round-the-clock bed
rest. She hadn t even known her car was missing until Camden showed up on her
doorstep with the news.
Dead end.
Jude s brothers were monitoring K-Bar and his gang, as well as remotely monitoring
Libby s home. So far, the gang hadn t even acknowledged in passing that they knew
where she lived, nor had they so much as congratulated each other on scaring her off
with the notes and dolls.
Something wasn t adding up, but it was up to his brothers to do the math. He was just
the glorified babysitter, which was exactly why he had to get out of the house for a bit.
Being cooped up was bad enough. Cooped up with a woman he wanted and couldn t
touch?
Total. Hell.
Mind made up, he headed toward the front door. A walk on the beach. That s all he
needed. He d be gone twenty minutes, tops.
He d never been one to sit still and relax. After his teachers had all but given up on
him, the school shrink tried to convince his father that he needed medication. David
Wilde had told the shrink to stuff those meds in a very uncomfortable place, and then
dragged his ten-year-old son out of the school by the scruff of his neck. Jude had half-
expected punishment from his tough as nails, Army-bred father. Instead, he got a trip to
the Smithsonian. David walked him through the museum, quizzing him ruthlessly on
everything they saw. It had been an awesome day. Fun. Interesting. Nothing like sitting
at a desk for hours at a time, reading out of a textbook.
Finally, his father stopped walking and muttered under his breath, Those f-ing teachers
aren t doing it right. With a grin, he looped an arm around Jude s shoulders. Let s go get
some burgers, huh?
Christ. A surge of intense sadness made Jude s stomach hurt and he stopped short half
way across the front porch. He hadn t thought about that day in years. Hadn t let himself
because barely a week after that, his parents were gone and it had been his fault. His
carelessness, his reckless disregard for everyone around him, had gotten them killed.
He turned and studied the house s brightly painted siding, imagined red splattered over
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