Wilde at Heart by Tonya Burrows

self-made, from a family with a long history of career military and blue-collar workers.
    Shit. He had to tell Shelby about this. He rubbed a hand over his face, stubble rasping against his palm, and stared at the photos. As much as he’d rather not, these pictures were of her, too, and she needed to know. What if it didn’t just stop at pictures? Already the blackmailer had tiptoed over the line into stalking territory.
    What if he was putting her in danger by not telling her?

Chapter Six
    S helby was in a dismal mood, and not even the chaos of vibrant lights and sounds on the casino floor cheered her.
    This whole day had sucked.
    Well, okay, not the entire day. She quite liked how it had ended and relished the thought of Reece tied to the bed, having to call one of his brothers for help.
    Served him right.
    But the rest of the day? Ugh. Was it possible to request a do-over from the big guy upstairs? She gazed toward the ceiling, but she’d never had much luck praying. Besides, she’d never set foot in a real church in her life—the chapel here in the hotel was the closest she’d come. If a big guy was up there granting prayers, he wasn’t gonna listen to her.
    The bartender arrived with her cocktail and she plucked the stick of cherries out of it, biting off the top one.
    She really hadn’t meant to ruin Eva’s wedding day. She had only wanted…hell, she didn’t know. She wanted a mother. Like, the real deal, not the spacey excuse for a mother she’d been born to, and part of her yearned to believe Katrina had changed. But Eva was probably right. Katrina would slip back into her old ways sooner rather than later, and did she really want to put any faith in that woman?
    No.
    The hurt and betrayal in the days after their mother attacked them last fall had been a bitter pill to swallow. Shelby absolutely didn’t want that heartbreak ever again.
    So cheers to fucked-up childhoods and crappy mothers. She lifted her glass and toasted her reflection in the mirror behind the bar. She’d drink tonight and wallow in her self-pity, then tomorrow she’d find Eva and apologize. She could admit now she’d only told their mother about the wedding out of some selfish need to be loved.
    Stupid.
    Who’d ever love her? Her own mother couldn’t, and her sister barely tolerated her.
    Shelby realized too late that tears had escaped her eyes and were rolling freely down her face. “Dammit.” She whisked them away with the back of her hand and lifted her glass to take a healthy drink. Movement in the mirror drew her attention, and she gazed up into the eyes of the one man she absolutely did not want to see.
    “Jason.” She shook her head and downed half of her cocktail in one swallow. “You fucking followed me to Vegas?”
    Jason Mallory stood behind her chair, blocking her in with his big, tattooed body. His hands landed on her shoulders. “I need an answer, Shelby.”
    “How about ‘fuck you’. Is that answer enough for you?”
    His fingers tightened. “Are you already forgetting our arrangement? Prison wouldn’t look good on you.”
    “I’m not forgetting.” She spun and held out her wrists. “If you’re going to arrest me, do it.”
    He stared at her for a long time, jaw clenched, then knocked her hands aside. “I’m doing you a favor here. The least you can do is honor our arrangement.”
    “The last time I honored our arrangement , someone died and my father ended up in prison.”
    “Because you put him there.”
    She let a shuddering breath go and turned back to her drink, downing a large gulp. “I’m not helping you hurt Reece.”
    “If he’s done nothing wrong, you won’t be hurting him.”
    “He’s done nothing wrong.”
    “That’s for you to find out.” His gaze went over her head to the mirror and tracked someone near the elevators.
    Oh God. It was Reece. And no doubt he was looking for her.
    R eece stepped off the elevator and studied the casino floor, searching for Shelby’s