Page 2 of Wilde and Untamed
He threw all his remaining strength into one desperate heave, hauling upward with everything he had. For a breathlessmoment, 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’tthe 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 suited for this mission. If things went sideways, he needed someone who could handle the harsh conditions and extract them quickly.
“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.”
