Wild on You

  BOOKS BY TINA WAINSCOTT

  Wild Hearts

  Wild on You

  Coming soon

  Wild Ways

  Wild Nights

  All part of the Justiss Alliance series

  Wild on You is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  A Loveswept eBook Original

  Copyright © 2014 by Tina Wainscott

  Excerpt from Ruined by Tracy Wolff copyright © 2014 Tracy Wolff

  Excerpt from Yours to Keep by Serena Bell copyright © 2013 by Serena Bell

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States by Loveswept, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.

  LOVESWEPT and colophon are trademarks of Random House, Inc.

  eBook ISBN 978-0-345-54834-4

  www.ReadLoveSwept.com

  v3.1

  To my nephew, Lance Corporal Robert John Newton. RJ joined the Marines right out of high school, dedicating his life to—and ultimately sacrificing it for—freedom. He continues to live in the hearts of the many whose lives he touched.

  Sadly, RJ is one of many young, talented, and brave individuals who have lost their lives while fighting for the betterment of our world. And so this book and series are dedicated to all of them, their families, and everyone who has felt the pride of having a soldier in the family, and to those who have felt the vicious bite that war delivers.

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Other Books by This Author

  Copyright

  Dedication

  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

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Excerpt from Ruined

  Excerpt from Yours to Keep

  Chapter 1

  The last time Rick Yarbrough climbed into this limo was right after the Navy court hearing that resulted in the discharge of his SEAL team. The man who provided that limo, Chase Justiss, had offered all five of them an intriguing job opportunity. Six and a half weeks later, Risk was an operational member of The Justiss Alliance. They were unofficially called J-Men, because two of Chase’s operatives had a thing for some cult-classic movie called J-Men Forever.

  Risk, Saxby, and Knox had undergone a week of orientation and training at Chase’s Miami estate, nothing compared to the grueling thirty months of becoming a SEAL. Then again, they already possessed most of the requisite skills.

  Chase leaned forward from the limo’s plush interior and shook his hand. “Welcome to your first mission, Risk.”

  Nice. His new boss even remembered his nickname.

  Chase was tall and lean, civilian but with a whiff of former military to his bearing. Government, he’d said, but was otherwise obtuse about his background. Or his reason for starting an agency that masqueraded as a private security firm.

  Risk released his grip as he settled into the seat across from him. “You haven’t told me what it is yet.” Which was odd, now that he thought about it. He was used to being given only bits and pieces of an upcoming mission, but that was the military, after all.

  “I didn’t want to scare you off.”

  Risk rubbed his hands together. Oh, buddy, this was going to be good. “Fill me in.”

  What had sold Risk on joining was The Justiss Alliance’s real purpose: obtaining justice for those who couldn’t get it through normal channels. The government and law enforcement agencies had their limitations, after all.

  Chase stretched out his long legs across the interior of the limo. “Some of our jobs come from government agencies that need off-the-record help. But as I said, some come from private citizens. I’ve known General Wunder a long time.”

  Which couldn’t be that long, considering the guy was in his late twenties, like Risk, early thirties at the most. “Does this involve military matters, then?” He wasn’t sure how he felt about sticking his nose in anything military. To be fair, his team had taken on the covert mission knowing full well that if they failed, the government would deny any knowledge of their infiltration; elected officials certainly would not admit to sending in a SEAL team to assassinate the leader of an organization aiming to shut down the violent cartels in Mexico. Nevertheless, anything military still left a bitter taste in Risk’s mouth.

  “Not at all. The general’s retired. This is a private security detail assignment.”

  “So I’m guarding some retired military brass. Is he going overseas, consulting in Afghanistan or something?” His blood heated at the prospect of danger. Lurking assassins. Clearing vehicles of explosives, maybe even detonating one. His mouth actually watered. Damn, he’d been out of the action for way too long.

  “You’re guarding his daughter here in Virginia. He thinks her safety is being threatened.”

  Risk stared at Chase for several seconds. “I’m a babysitter?” he pushed out at last, trying not to sound too indignant. “You do recall my years of experience with weapons, interrogation? Running into buildings on moonlit nights, knowing there could be fighters waiting with guns? Tracking down bad guys in the frigid desert? You don’t need to ease me in, if that’s why you’re giving me this gig.”

  Chase slid him a sly smile. “It’s not going to be that easy.”

  Risk held back the hmph that wanted to escape. How hard could guarding a woman be? Unless she was a diplomat in a volatile foreign country, but Chase had said it was domestic. “What does this assignment have to do with the ‘justice for all, no matter the cost’ credo?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Color me skeptical.

  The last time he trusted his commander, the mission screwed up his life. But Risk held his tongue and mustered as much trust as he could. He wanted this job to work out. After all, it wasn’t like Chase was asking him to assassinate someone.

  The limo left the private airfield that Chase’s jet had flown him into. Risk had spent some time with his brother and his family in Pekin, Illinois, while awaiting his first assignment.

  Risk regaled Chase with war stories, and Chase recounted some of The Justiss Alliance’s missions during the two-hour drive. The limo entered an exclusive neighborhood with massive brick homes set on large parcels of land. They pulled down a curved drive to a house with columns that reminded Risk of a government building, all square and landscaped with military precision. Risk hailed from an Illinois farming community where he’d worked until his muscles burned and his skin was leathery from the sun. This kind of money was a foreign concept.

  Risk followed Chase up the steps, and a few seconds after chimes echoed inside the house, a man opened the door. The expression on his hard, square face transformed to relief when he took in Chase.

  “Good to see you, son.” He pumped Chase’s hand, then pulled him in for one of those guy hugs. Chase didn’t even buckle under the ham-sized hand slapping his back so hard that Risk expected him to cough up something.

  “Glad we can help.” Chase gestured for Risk to step up beside him and introduced the two men.

  Risk knew the general was sizing him up as he crushed his hand in what was more like an arm-wrestling hold than a handshake. “Nice to meet you,” Risk gritted out, gripping the man
’s hand just as hard.

  The general gave him an approving nod and gestured for them to follow him. “Let’s talk in my office.”

  Chase said, “I briefed him on the job but figured we would cover the specifics here.”

  Briefed. Yeah, like a sentence.

  The general nodded for them to take the two leather seats in front of his desk, sinking down in his chair on the other side. “Someone tried to run down my daughter, Adeline, a week ago.” He slid a folder across the desk. “Here’s the police report. There was no proof it was intentional. It could have been a drunk driver. That’s what Adeline wants to think, but even she admits she’s made some enemies.” He interlaced his fingers so tightly that they turned red. “I’ve included the detective’s contact information in the paperwork. He hasn’t turned up anything yet. And while he’s a friend, he can only spend so much time on a dead-end investigation.

  “In the meantime, whoever tried will no doubt try again. I insisted she move in here for a while, but with her comes a menagerie of animals she’s rehabilitating, and they’re driving me crazy. She’s just as unhappy being here, so you’re our compromise.” That he directed to Risk. “I need someone who can not only protect her but keep her out of trouble. No protests, no investigations. She needs to sit tight and safe until we know who wants her dead or we can be sure that it was indeed an accident.”

  Risk’s gaze went to the bookshelf behind the general and a collection of framed pictures of a blond girl at various ages. On a pony at maybe her sixth birthday party. Riding a horse at some equestrian event as a teen. Probably spoiled rotten. Great. Frickin’ great. And Risk was a compromise, which meant she was going to be as cooperative as any bad guy he’d tried to wheedle information out of.

  “Who’d she piss off?” Risk asked, then added, “Sir.”

  “There are several possibilities.”

  Risk nearly choked. “Several? How can one woman make that many people angry enough to potentially try killing her? Is she a liberal? Does she use racial slurs? Was she caught trying to drown puppies?”

  The general sat back in his chair with a long-suffering sigh. “She’s an animal hugger. You know, like a tree hugger. It started when she was a kid, saving baby birds that had fallen out of nests, finding homes for stray kittens. I figured her desire to help came from watching her mother work with her various charities. After her mother died—when Addie was twelve—that desire turned into a drive. First she kidnapped a neglected horse from a farm. Then she stole hound pups she thought were being abused and found them homes. She went looking for animals to save as though her life depended on it.”

  “Maybe she was trying to fill that empty hole you feel when your parent dies young,” Risk found himself saying.

  “I thought so, too. But I overheard her talking to her mother up in heaven, telling her about the puppies she’d saved and how she hoped that would make it up to her. When I asked her what she meant, she wouldn’t say.” He shook his head. “She doesn’t always consider the law—or her common sense—when she’s got an abused or neglected animal in her sights.” He handed a folder to Risk. “The lead suspect is a guy who runs one of these traveling zoos. She’s been launching protests against him for the last few weeks, and he made some threats. Nothing so obvious as ‘I’m going to run you down.’ More like ‘You crazy animal people need to be hog-tied and trampled by the elephants you’re trying to save!’ He even filed a restraining order.”

  Risk studied photos of a middle-aged guy who looked like he was all kinds of pissed about having his picture taken. In another shot, a tiger cub didn’t look any happier about being forced to pose with a young girl.

  “Let me show you what I’m dealing with.” The general pulled his keyboard close and began pecking at it. “What you’ll be dealing with.” He turned his monitor to show them a Facebook page. The ID read Addie Wunder, Animal Hugger. The general frowned. “She used my disparaging title as her organization’s name. Just to poke at me, I suspect.”

  The big picture on top was a horse racing across an open field. In the corner was a picture of Addie, with the same blond hair and incredible blue eyes as in the pictures behind the general … except she was all grown up now.

  Way grown up. Risk would guess her to be in her mid-twenties. In the most recent picture on her timeline, she was in front of a zoo, holding a sign protesting cruelty against a tiger cub, tight white pants and leopard-print tank top wrapped around a nice little figure. Her latest post called out to anyone in the Ruckersville area to protest the zoo’s next stop. Farther down, a YouTube video proclaimed to expose a canned hunt in Georgia, with Addie’s face frozen in passionate ire. Another picture showed her in a dark pink bikini, bathing dogs at a fund-raiser for a no-kill shelter. If Risk wrapped his hands around her waist, the tips of his fingers would probably touch. She had an amazing set of boobs, a bit more than a handful, firm and—

  “I’m a poker player, son,” the general said, pinning him with his gray eyes. “You’re obviously not.”

  Risk cleared his throat. “Sorry, sir.”

  “Normally I’d worry about how you’re looking at my daughter, a guy like you.”

  “Like me?” Risk bristled.

  “Good-looking, muscular, with that dangerous gleam in his eyes. Let me dispel any notions you may have. She’s gay.”

  Risk looked at that delicate heart-shaped face with the spark of rebellion. Please say it ain’t so. “That’s a shame, sir.”

  General Wunder sat back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. “Tell me about it. I’ve offered a hundred thousand dollars to the guy who can persuade her to go straight. Had a millionaire businessman try, a marine, even an Army captain. No deal.”

  Well, you didn’t try a SEAL, sir. “Did she know?”

  “Only that I was setting her up on blind dates, inviting them to dinner or charity events. Adeline was polite, but no deal.”

  “Is the offer still on the table?” Risk couldn’t resist a challenge, especially when the prize was a saucy dish. The hundred thou would be nice, too.

  “Not to someone like you. Stop bristling, boy, or you’re going to grow spines. I’m not talking about what happened with your SEAL team in Mexico. Something smelled rank about that whole deal.”

  “That whole deal,” the defuckle, as it was now referred to, had trashed Risk’s military career. “You know about it?”

  “I don’t know anything. I suspect that your team took the fall for a black op. I never did trust that Hammer organization. Despite their alleged intentions, they’ve been implicated in bloodshed themselves. The pictures they leaked to the media, showing how the ‘rogue SEALs’ had recklessly killed women and children at the compound, were obviously staged. Chase assured me that there was a lot more to it than your team screwing up. It’s rank that you all took the fall. It’s really rank that one of your own died.”

  Risk nodded in appreciation of the sentiment. “So what did you mean by someone like me?”

  “You’re an adrenaline junkie. I know that gleam, because I’ve seen it in my daughter’s eyes since she was two—right before she climbed up the railing to the second floor. You’d feed off each other, probably get yourselves killed flying off some mountain on a kite or something.”

  Which sounded fun. Risk shifted his attention back to Addie’s picture. “Bet she’s vegan, too.”

  “Lacto-ovo vegetarian, which means she eats dairy and eggs.” Wunder smirked. “She taught me the difference. But sometimes I see her eyeing the steak I’m having as she’s eating that tofu crap.” He grunted, shaking his head. Then his steely eyes focused on Risk. “You’re to accompany Adeline to her home to unload the animals she brought here. Then she’s to go to my brother’s home in the Hamptons to lay low for a while.”

  Risk wanted to groan. An indeterminate amount of time lounging around some mansion with a hot lesbian. Could life be any more unfair?

  Wunder dialed a number, engaging the speakerphone. “Adeline, where are y
ou?”

  “I’m loading the animals into the van.” A strong but decidedly feminine voice.

  “Please come to my office.”

  “Uh-oh. When you use that tone, I know it’s not good,” she said warily. “Does this have anything to do with the big shiny limo in the driveway?”

  “Adeline, please.”

  “Coming, Father.”

  Risk wondered what it was like to grow up with a military father. He’d heard some of the guys on his teams talk about their military dads over the years, and not in a warm and fuzzy way.

  Adeline pushed open the door a few minutes later and came to a standstill as she took in Risk and Chase. She was probably five-three, with the face of an angel. Her sandy blond hair was hastily tied into a ponytail that brushed her shoulders whenever she turned her head. She parted her hair to the side, and long bangs hung over the right side of her face. Her gaze snapped back to her father. “What’s going on?”

  The sight of her tripped Risk’s heart. She wore cargo pants that rode low on her hips and a black shirt that came just shy of the waistband, showing a tantalizing strip of golden skin. In her arm she cradled a kitten that did not look domestic.

  “Adeline, remember, I told you that you could return to your home with conditions.”

  “I’m the condition.” Risk approached her with a grin, his hand outstretched. “I’m Rick Yarbrough. Nice to meet you. Call me Risk.”

  She eyed his hand dubiously but shifted the kitten so she could shake it. Damn, the feel of her palm sliding against his gave him another jolt. Nothing delicate about her hands or her handshake, though it wasn’t bruising like her father’s.

  She took him in, her blue eyes assessing him from head to toe before shifting to her father. “He’s a bodyguard, isn’t he? You actually got me a bodyguard.”

  “He’s ex-SEAL, trained to protect and to kill if necessary. You are not to go anywhere without him.”

  Risk liked that flare of rebellion in her eyes, the rise of one blond eyebrow. She had the eyes of an angel but the spark of a devil when she asked, “Even the bathroom?”