Wilde and Untamed (Wilde Security Worldwide Book 2), page 1
wilde and untamed
WILDE SECURITY WORLDWIDE
BOOK 2
TONYA BURROWS
contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Also by Tonya Burrows
one
Rue fucking Bristow.
He was going to kill her himself… if she didn’t die first.
The rope in Elliot Wilde’s hands burned through his gloves, the friction eating through leather and skin alike. His shoulders screamed from the sudden weight, muscles locked in a death grip that was the only thing standing between her and a very permanent solution to their problems.
“I’ve got you!” he yelled into the wind, though he wasn’t sure she could hear him over the howling storm. Hell, he wasn’t sure he believed it himself. The anchor point he’d managed to set felt solid, but everything felt solid until it wasn’t.
His boots were planted wide in the snow, every muscle in his body straining against the pull of gravity and one very stubborn woman. The blizzard had come earlier than forecast, turning their carefully planned trek into a nightmare of whiteout conditions and hidden crevasses.
Of course Rue had insisted on taking point. Of course she’d been the one to step on the snow bridge that looked solid but was apparently made of ice crystals and wishful thinking.
The rope jerked again, and he felt the sickening give of his anchor shifting. Not good. Very not good.
“Rue!” His voice cracked on her name. “Can you get any purchase down there?”
The answer came back faint but colorful enough to make a sailor blush. The woman knew how to swear, which he imagined she picked up from her former Navy SEAL dad. At least she was still conscious. And apparently still had enough energy to question his parentage and suggest anatomically impossible activities.
Good. He could work with pissed off. Pissed off meant she wasn’t giving up.
“I’m working on it!” Rue’s voice floated up through the storm, strained but determined. “The walls are slick as hell!”
Elliot gritted his teeth, feeling his stance slip another inch. The burning in his hands intensified, but he didn’t dare adjust his grip. Not when one moment of weakness could send her plummeting.
“Keep trying!” he shouted back, blinking away the ice crystals that clung to his eyelashes. “Find anything—a ledge, an outcropping, anything!”
The rope shuddered as she presumably searched the crevasse walls with her boots. Each movement sent jolts of pain through his shoulders and back. His muscles were already approaching their limit, fatigue setting in where adrenaline couldn’t compensate.
The wind shifted, driving snow directly into his face. He turned away, squinting against the assault, and that’s when he felt it—a subtle but unmistakable give in the snow beneath his right boot.
Shit.
His heartbeat thundered in his ears. The entire ledge was compromised, not just the section Rue had fallen through. They were both standing—or in her case, hanging—on borrowed time.
“Rue!” The panic in his voice was impossible to hide now. “I’m going to try to pull you up. When I say so, I need you to help. Climb the rope if you can.”
“Well, that sounds ominous!” she shouted back. “What’s wrong?”
Of course she’d pick up on it. Even in a blizzard, dangling over a void, Rue Bristow was nothing if not perceptive.
“Just a slight change of plans,” he lied, shifting his weight carefully to the left, testing for more solid footing.
There wasn’t any. The entire section was a death trap of snow-covered nothing.
His mind raced through options, each one worse than the last. If he tried moving backward, he risked destabilizing their precarious position further. If he stayed put, they’d eventually both go down when the snow gave way completely. If he tried to haul her up quickly, the sudden movement might trigger the collapse.
He made his decision.
“Rue, listen carefully,” he said, voice steady despite the fear clawing at his insides. “On my count, I’m going to pull. You climb. Whatever happens, don’t stop climbing.”
“Whatever happens?” Her voice had lost its playful edge. “Elliot, what aren’t you telling me?”
“Just trust me.” He tightened his grip, ignoring the raw agony in his hands. “One... two...”
The snow beneath him shifted again, more dramatically this time.
“Three!”
He threw all his remaining strength into one desperate heave, hauling upward with everything he had. For a breathless moment, he felt her weight lighten as she presumably found purchase and began to climb.
Then the world fell away.
The ledge disintegrated beneath him, and Elliot was suddenly weightless, the rope yanking him forward into the storm. His stomach lurched as he pitched over the edge—then a violent jerk stopped his fall.
Arms clamped around him. Rue’s arms. She’d caught him, locking them together. Their harnesses tangled, their bodies slammed chest to chest, and for one suspended, breathless second, they dangled nose-to-nose in the white void.
Her eyes sparked, bright even through the ice crusting her lashes. Her breath puffed warm against his frozen cheek.
“When I said I’d keep you warm in Antarctica,” she said, voice pitched low and maddeningly calm, “this isn’t what I had in mind.”
A strangled laugh escaped him. Only Rue would joke while hanging over certain death.
The rope above them shrieked. Fibers popped one by one, sharp as gunshots. His gaze shot upward, just in time to see the last threads fray apart.
The rope snapped.
two
TWO WEEKS EARLIER
It wasn’t the rogue mercenaries, the frozen wasteland, or the billionaire party that had Elliot sweating about his next mission.
It was Rue.
Rue fucking Bristow.
He had exactly fourteen minutes to get his shit together before he was supposed to meet her at Atlas Frost’s penthouse. Fourteen minutes to finish the security protocols for their Antarctica mission, brief his back-up, and somehow transform from a bone-tired operative reeling from his best friend’s betrayal into a man ready to face Rue in party mode.
He rubbed his eyes, willing away the gritty feeling of too little sleep. The mission parameters glowed on his screen—hostile environment, minimal support, and no idea who could be trusted. And Rue, determined and brilliant and completely incapable of admitting when she was in over her head.
His phone buzzed. Griffin’s name flashed on the screen.
“You’re late,” Elliot answered.
“Nice to hear your voice too, cuz,” Griffin drawled, the background noise suggesting he was still in transit. “Traffic’s a bitch. Be there in five.”
“Make it three. I need to get to Frost’s before Rue decides to do something crazy, like ditch the party and start the expedition early.”
“Ah, yes. The infamous Rue Bristow.” Griffin’s voice dripped with amusement. “The woman who has you wrapped around her little finger.”
“She does not—” Elliot bit off the rest of the sentence. Arguing would only encourage him. “Just get here.”
He hung up before Griffin could respond and turned back to the mission. The intel from Frost suggested Praetorian had an interest in the research station where Rue was heading. What they didn’t know was why, or how far they’d go to get whatever they wanted.
Five minutes later, the door to his office banged open with enough force to rattle the framed photos on his wall. He didn’t need to look up to know who it was. Only one person in the entire Wilde Security operation entered a room like they were breaching hostile territory.
Griffin Wilde.
The only son of Uncle Vaughn, the most intense of the original five Wilde brothers, Griffin shared his father’s intensity, but he also had a reckless streak a mile wide. A deadly combination that had made him one of WSW’s most effective operatives… and one of its biggest headaches.
“You summoned me?” Griff dropped into the chair across from Elliot’s desk, sprawling his long limbs. His cousin could make any space feel simultaneously too small and like it belonged to him.
Elliot finished typing the last of his notes before meeting Griffin’s expectant gaze. “I need you on standby for the Antarctica op.”
As the head of WSW’s ops division and the only one of his cousins with a pilot’s license, Griff was the best suit
“Antarctica?” Griffin’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re going to the actual ass-end of the earth? Don’t tell me you’ve developed a penguin fetish since I’ve been gone.”
“Rue’s leading an expedition to the Thwaites Research Station.” Elliot kept his voice neutral. “Word is Praetorian’s showing interest in whatever is going on there, so I’m going to make sure she doesn’t end up in their crosshairs.“
Griffin leaned forward, his expression shifting from amusement to something sharper. “So Davey’s sending you to babysit.”
“I volunteered.”
“Of course you did.” Griffin snorted. “And this has nothing to do with your thing for the little Bristow sister.”
Elliot fixed him with a flat stare. “I don’t have a thing for Rue.”
“Right.” Griffin’s smile turned almost predatory. “You hate the cold.”
“I don’t hate the cold.”
“You wore a thermal jacket to that Rangers game in October.”
“That’s just common sense. Most people don’t sit in a freezing ice rink in a T-shirt.”
Griffin grunted and kicked his feet up on the corner of Elliot’s desk. “So, any idea what Praetorian’s after?”
“Not yet.” Elliot tapped his tablet, sending the mission brief to Griffin’s secure WSW email account. “But whatever it is, they’re sinking a massive amount of money into the project and Atlas Frost is holding the purse strings.”
“Shit.” Griffin grabbed his phone as it signaled and scrolled through the brief on his phone. “So what’s my role in this frozen adventure?”
“You’re our extraction plan. If things go sideways, you’ll be on standby in Punta Arenas, Chile, to fly us out.”
“Sounds like a vacation. I’ll be hitting the slopes and getting lucky with some Chilean snow bunnies while you’re freezing your ass off.”
“You know it’s summer there, right?”
“Okay, so I’ll sunbathe with some Chilean beach bunnies.” Griffin’s smirk faded as he continued reading. “Wait—you’re going as her fiancé?”
Heat crept up Elliot’s neck. “It’s a cover.”
“A cover.” Griffin’s lips twitched. “Right.”
“The engagement gives us a reason to be together at all times without raising suspicion. Especially since Frost knows who I am.“
“Genius,” Griffin said, not bothering to hide his amusement. “And completely necessary, I’m sure.”
Elliot ignored the jab. “Davey approved it.”
“Davey’s been distracted lately.” Griffin’s expression darkened. “Ever since he tossed Cade out on his ass.”
The shift in conversation gave Elliot whiplash. “Cade wasn’t tossed out. He quit.”
“After Davey accused him of betraying the family.” Griffin’s voice hardened. “For what? Doing his job? Because Rowan couldn’t handle—”
“Careful,” Elliot warned.
Griffin leaned forward, jaw tight. “Cade’s family. Rowan is just the woman Davey’s currently fuck—”
“Be careful what you say next, Griff.” Elliot’s voice dropped low, all traces of exhaustion gone. “That’s my future sister-in-law.”
Griffin blinked, genuine surprise flashing across his face. “They’re engaged?”
“As of last week.”
“Well, shit.” Griffin exhaled slowly, the anger in his posture not quite dissipating but shifting into something more contained. “No one thought to mention that to me?”
“You’ve been in deep cover for three months,” Elliot reminded him. “And it just happened.”
Griffin ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, a habit he’d had since they were kids. “So Davey’s actually settling down. With Rowan Bristow of all people.”
“You got a problem with that?”
“You mean besides the fact that she’s an assassin?” Griffin’s laugh held no humor. “Or that she had a contract for Davey’s head?”
Elliot felt his patience wearing dangerously thin. “She saved his life. Multiple times.”
“After endangering it in the first place.”
“That’s not how it happened, and you know it. They’re good together. In their own weird, slightly terrifying way.”
Griffin snorted. “Yeah, well, at least now I know why Davey’s been walking around with little hearts circling his head.”
Elliot checked his watch. Seven minutes left. “Look, I didn’t call you in here to gossip. Are you in for Antarctica or not?”
Griffin studied him for a long moment, then shrugged. “I’m in. Someone’s got to watch your back when you’re playing house with the younger Bristow.”
“It’s not—” Elliot caught himself. Arguing would only feed Griffin’s mean streak. “The mission brief has all the details. I need you ready to move on short notice.”
“Always am.” Griffin stood, stretching his tall frame. “When do you leave?”
“Three days.” Elliot gathered his tablet and phone, mentally calculating how long it would take to get to Frost’s penthouse. “I’m meeting Rue at Frost’s pre-expedition party tonight. You should come.”
Griffin’s eyebrows shot up. “To a party at Atlas Frost’s? Hard pass. That guy is fucking nightmare fuel.”
“He’s Rue’s benefactor. And our best source of intel on Praetorian’s movements.”
“He’s also the most dangerous man in Manhattan,” Griffin countered. “And he looks at you like he’s calculating the most efficient way to dispose of your body.”
Elliot couldn’t argue with that. Frost had that effect on people. “All the more reason to keep an eye on him.”
“Your funeral.” Griffin moved toward the door, then paused. “You sure you want to take this one, E? After what happened with Brody—”
“I’m fine,” Elliot cut him off, sharper than he intended. He softened his tone. “Davey’s already hovering like I’m made of glass. Don’t need it from you too.”
“Brody almost killed you a few weeks ago.”
“I remember.”
“He was your best friend.”
Elliot rose from his chair and checked his watch again. Five minutes to get to Frost’s. “And the best way to put that behind me is to do my job.”
Griffin held his gaze for a long moment, then shrugged. “Fine. But watch yourself with Frost. And with Rue.”
“Rue’s not the problem.”
“No?” Griffin’s mouth quirked. “Then why are you fidgeting with your tie like you’re heading to prom?”
Elliot’s hands froze, suddenly aware he’d been adjusting his already-perfect tie. He dropped his hands to his sides. “Just making sure I look presentable.”
“For a cover story?” Griffin’s eyebrows arched. “Or for your fake fiancée?”
“For a high-society event at Atlas Frost’s penthouse.” He grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. “For a mission with potentially international consequences.”
Griffin’s answering grin was all teeth. “Keep telling yourself that, cuz.”
Elliot checked his watch again and swore under his breath. “We’ll finish this later. Just be ready.”
“Always am,” Griffin said as he headed to the door. He paused at the threshold and glanced back. ”Just... be careful, cuz. With Frost, with Praetorian. With her.”
“I’m always careful.”
Griffin’s laugh was sharp and genuine. “No, you’re not. You’re just better at hiding the reckless shit than the rest of us. But don’t worry. I’ll be ready to pull your ass out if you need me.“ He tapped his knuckles against the doorframe. “And for what it’s worth, I’m happy for Davey. Just wish it hadn’t cost us Cade.”
Elliot didn’t move as Griff vanished down the hallway. The mention of Cade twisted in his chest. Another fracture in their family, another casualty of the war with Praetorian.
But he couldn’t fix that right now.
He had exactly three minutes to get to Frost’s, and being late to Atlas Frost’s party wasn’t just rude, it was potentially dangerous.
He snatched up his keys and moved for the elevator, checking his reflection in the polished steel doors as they slid shut. Griffin hadn’t been wrong about the tie. He looked like he was trying too hard, which was absurd. This was a mission, nothing more. Another cover to keep intact.
