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Authors: Kimberly Kaye Terry

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BOOK: To Tame a Wilde (Wilde in Wyoming)
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Chapter 5

T
he first thought that came to Nick’s mind was that her pictures didn’t do her justice.

The woman was mouthwateringly fine.

And she had swagger. She wore it around her like a familiar, favorite sweater. He felt his mouth fight not to smile. He liked that.

Before Sinclair had allowed him to usher her inside his office, as she’d stood framed in the doorway for a moment, he’d caught her fear. Despite the confidence, there was an undercurrent of...fear, riding her.

Hard.

His gaze swept over her, head to toe.

She nearly vibrated with energy; bravado, swag...and fear. A heady combination.

No damn way she could hide it from him. He was the type of man that could smell it on a woman. That uncontrollable sensuality...fear. He prided himself on it being his gift.

He’d nearly pounced on her then and there. But he’d tamped his own need to conquer.
Down, boy,
he’d admonished himself. Time for that later.

She was in his camp, now.

The grin, unknown to him, broke free, tilting the corner of his mouth upward.

Nick stared. She was...tinier in real life than she appeared in photos. If he had to venture a guess, he would say she was just a few inches over five feet, which placed her more than a foot shorter than he.

His glance slid to the flashy stilettos on her small feet. Well, without those she wouldn’t even make it to his chest level, he thought, frowning. Small, despite the taller-than-life heels she wore, the top of her head would barely reach him midchest without the stilettos.

As he walked behind the woman, his gaze centered on the sexy-as-hell sway of her round-but-tight butt.

So, this was Sinclair Adams. Sinclair. Sin... Yeah, that was a more apt name, he thought. She was the epitome of walking sin.

She wore a loose-fitting blouse tucked into a knee-length skirt.

Nothing overtly sexual about the outfit.

But on the woman who walked in front of him, her small hips swaying as if she
owned
the place...it was hot as hell. The skirt was a “business navy” color, as he liked to think of that particular shade of blue, yet the way it molded her hips, nipped in at the waist and curved over her rounded butt had Nick sweating as though he’d run a marathon.

She turned and he bumped into her. He reached out to steady her and realized she had come to one of the chairs in front of his desk. Realized he was holding on to her shoulders longer than what was really necessary.

But damn if he could stop himself, or remove his hands from the softness of her shoulders. Unconsciously his fingers rubbed the soft skin.

“Are you okay?” he asked. Although he knew she was, it was the best excuse he could come up with to keep his hold on her.

“Um, yeah,” she said, seeming in no more of a hurry than he was to move away.

His gaze traveled over her face.

Her eyes were large and were the focal points of her heart-shaped face.

Almost too large. His gaze was stuck, as though he couldn’t look away as he stared into the dark brown depths.

As he stood in front of her, so close to her, her scent drifted across his nose. Without benefit of the cracked windows or overhead swirling fan, he could
smell
her.

Damn. His nostrils flared. She had a scent unlike any he’d encountered before. Spicy and floral. A heady combination.

He forced his gaze away to take in her small nose. The small diamond chip in the crease surprised him. He cataloged that small rebellion for later contemplation. His gaze moved on to her lips which, like her eyes, were a shade larger than would seem to work for her small face. Yet...it worked on
her.

Full. Luscious.

The bottom lip of her perfect mouth stuck out a fraction more than the top, giving her an earthy, pouty look that had his cock pressing hard against the zipper of his jeans.

Nick had an urgent desire to grab that luscious lip and suckle it deeply into his mouth.

To see if it...she, tasted as good as both appeared to promise.

He reluctantly dragged his gaze away from her mouth to glance at her hair. Although it appeared thick, he couldn’t determine the length. She had it pulled into a high bun, with soft curling tendrils hanging down her face on either side of her temples.

Something told Nick it wasn’t by design that the tendrils had escaped capture. It was likely more that the strands were too damn stubborn to do as she’d instructed them to and stay confined.

Stubborn, just like the woman who had captured his attention.

The dark, soft-looking curl begged for him to reach out and touch it.

Nick felt his shaft harden. Felt the low thrum of arousal that he’d felt for her, even before he’d met the woman, sharpening, throbbing, his cock painfully erect and pressing against his zipper.

“What...what do you think you’re doing?”

Her huskily asked question brought him out of his own musings. Nick’s gaze caught hers and he dropped his hand.

What the hell was wrong with him? he thought. He’d been so caught up in whatever the hell was going on between them, what had been brewing between them for six months, he’d forgotten who she was.

Who he was.

He cleared his throat, motioning for her to precede him and offering her a chair that was a safe enough distance away from his desk that he could get his thoughts...and randy cock, firmly back in control.

What the hell had he been doing—thinking? He schooled his mind and wayward cock back into submission.

It was all about control.

Nick’s control was legendary.

She was in his camp, now.

Yet the mocking voice inside his head whispered, reminding him how he’d felt about her, the growing feelings... After six months of foreplay—cyber foreplay—he was set to explode.

Chapter 6

S
inclair opened her briefcase, trying to
still her shaky hands.

“The boys and I believe we can come to a mutually acceptable
agreement, Mr. Kealoha. One I’m sure—”

“Nick.”

“What?” she asked, a small frown on her face as her eyes met
his, realizing he’d spoken. Damn, the man was a distraction.

“Call me Nick. I think we’re past the ‘Mr. Kealoha’ stage,
don’t you?” he asked, and she found herself staring at his strong fingers as he
poured coffee into a mug, then handed the mug to her.

Immediately after the odd yet sexually disturbing first
introduction, she wasn’t sure what she expected to happen.

Would he come on to her now? Was it all part of some weird game
to undermine what she’d come here to do? To set her up so that she’d forget the
purpose of the visit?

If so, he had another think coming. She was back in control and
nothing, absolutely nothing, was going to make her lose it. It was not going to
happen.

“And I’m assuming you mean you and the Wildes?”

She glanced at him, her gaze sharp. She frowned. “Of course the
Wildes. Who else?”

He leaned back in the oversize desk chair. Despite the
largeness of the leather chair, he still dominated it, as she would imagine he
dominated any room, any place he was.

He was
just
that kind of man.

His lips were curled into a ghost of a smile.

She felt a shudder run through her body and suppressed it.

Business at hand.

If she continued to have to remind herself of
that
simple little fact...she was in a world of
trouble.

A look passed across his handsome face. One which she couldn’t
determine the exact meaning of.

“Well...as you referred to them collectively as ‘the boys,’ I
assumed you meant the Wildes. Or do you represent another group of
lost
boys?” he asked sardonically, one dark eyebrow
raised in question.

Sinclair sat straighter in her chair, frowning, keeping his
gaze.

She opened her mouth to snap out a retort before closing it,
her mind going back over her words. She looked away from him.

She bit back a sigh of embarrassment and barely refrained from
slumping back against the soft leather seat. He was right. Damn it.

She had referred to them as
the
boys.
She silenced a groan of embarrassment.

Having grown up around the brothers, men who were like older
brothers to Sinclair when she was a child, she had always referred to them in
that manner as had some others in the small community in Wyoming. Although most
people now just called them the Wildes, she, and a select few others, had the
liberty of long association with the men and continued to refer to them
collectively in that manner.

But Sinclair had never used the nickname for the men while
conducting business. Particularly when the business she was conducting was on
the Wildes’ behalf.

Nicholas Kealoha had her so rattled that she’d slipped up and
done something she never had before.

Control. She fought hard to bring it back.

She plastered a smile on her face and observed him. Just as
he’d made the comment, she’d caught the look on his face. She hadn’t missed his
“Neverland” reference.

Sinclair decided to keep the peace and not call him out on his
attempted slam. Calling three men who were the antithesis to Peter Pan’s Lost
Boys was a ridiculous insult and one she refused to even acknowledge...while
praying to heaven that somehow the men hadn’t developed ESP. Her Wildes were
true alpha men, the kind of men one did not mess with, as her father had once
put it, just not in such mild language.

Yet for as rugged and alpha as the Wildes were, Sinclair would
hate to see any of them go toe-to-toe with
this
man.

Her glance stole over him.

He smiled slightly at her, one corner of his sensual mouth
hitching up ever so slightly.

In that way he had....

The way that made her wish some resourceful designer had
invented air-conditioned panties.

Damn, he was hot.

He took up way too much...space. She was hot. Damn, it was hot.
She resisted the urge to retrieve a slip of loose paper from her briefcase to
fan herself. Besides, the place she really needed to fan, she couldn’t. She felt
a blush steal across her face.

A knowing look passed in his aquamarine blue eyes, and the
blush intensified.

Before she’d met Nick, Sinclair had never thought she’d meet
another man who could come close to the Wildes in sheer masculinity.

She turned her attention away from Nick to the business at
hand.

“Well, I’d like to start an initial dialogue on what the Wildes
are offering, and we can go from there in the negotiations. I think you and your
family will agree that it is a fair deal,” she began. In control.

She deftly unclasped the hook of her chic custom-made
briefcase, a gift from the Wildes upon graduating from law school.

She withdrew an e-tablet from inside and automatically removed
the clamp, attaching it to the leather handles of her briefcase before hooking
it to the arm of the chair.

She caught his look. She didn’t feel the need to explain why
she didn’t want her bag on the floor.

“As I was saying, the Wildes have come to an agreement, and the
proposal they have given me permission to offer you and your family is more than
fair, we all believe,” she stated clearly, redirecting the energy away from the
direction it had been headed.

She had no intention of being at the Kealoha ranch, or in
Hawaii for that matter, for longer than was absolutely necessary. Although Nate
and the family had given her carte blanche in the way of time, telling her to
take the time she needed to take care of the matter, she planned to be as speedy
about the business as possible. Thorough, without a doubt, but with a
quickness.

She handed the e-tablet over to him, ignoring the snap of
electricity that zinged back and forth the minute their fingertips touched.

The ghost of a smile remained on his face as he took the tablet
from her hands.

She kept her face neutral and after long moments he sat back in
the oversize chair and finally released her from his stare.

Sinclair resisted the urge to wipe away the bead of sweat she
felt running down the back of her neck. She also stopped herself from slumping
against the cool leather chair; she continued to wonder if it was hot in his
office or if it was just her.

Control.

* * *

Throughout the meeting, Nick sat back and listened to
her, allowing nothing of what he felt, nothing of what he was even
thinking,
to show on his face.

With Sinclair, he had ascertained that beyond the beautiful
face, the hot-as-hell voice and body made for sex, she was a force to be
reckoned with. Intelligence and confidence fairly vibrated from her small sexy
body.

Her sensuality was one he found intriguing; so far, he’d
figured out that she allowed only tiny snapshots of it to the world.

The small nuances told him she was not the conservative
button-down corporate attorney that she presented to the world, from the small
diamond chip in her nose, to the matching pink-tipped manicured nails and toes,
which he’d caught a glimpse of from the peep-toe high-heeled shoes she wore. She
tried to hide her sensuality. But it was there.

Hell, her curves alone told that story.

Sexy, with an edge.

Earthy, yet restrained.

As she’d outlined the proposal from the Wildes, she’d pulled
out numerous documents. He’d noticed that they were all in order, filed in an
accordion-style folder, and mirrored what he was reading on the tablet she’d
handed him.

Prim and proper. With hidden fire.

He had to force himself to listen, to concentrate on what she
was saying. He knew that a lot was riding on the situation, but damn if she
hadn’t made it nearly impossible for him to maintain focus.

However, her next words caught his attention, snapping him
sharply back to the present and the situation at hand.

“So we, the Wildes, feel this unpleasant situation can be
remedied to all parties’ satisfaction. In exchange for you and your brother
signing the document, we will withdraw all charges against you.”

He heard and swiftly cataloged what she’d said. But it was one
word...one phrase that caught his attention beyond the rest.

Unpleasant situation.

That, and charges against them.

Renewed bitterness toward the man who was his and Key’s
biological father rose swiftly. He shoved the emotions—anger, resentment—down,
and focused on the rest of what she was saying. Focused on what was really
important. None of the rest mattered.

He ignored the pang in his heart at the cavalier dismissal of
his and his brother’s importance in the Wildes’ eyes.

His jaw tightened.

“Hold on,” he snapped, holding up a hand for her to stop
speaking. He glanced at her quickly and saw that his gesture didn’t sit well
with her.

Good. Because her dismissal of him and his brother didn’t sit
well with him, either.

He took his time as he scanned the last page of the document.
And then, although he’d caught the gist of it, he swiped a finger over the
tablet screen to take it back to the previous page to reread.

He frowned.

“Exactly what charges are you talking about for my brother and
me to drop?”

She sat back and gave him a
look,
withdrawing the half-glasses she’d perched upon the narrow bridge of her
nose.

“Mr. Kealoha, have you not been paying attention to what I’ve
been saying? What I’ve been proposing for you and for your family?”

Nick wasn’t easily embarrassed. Yet at that moment he was, and
the feeling ticked him off. He was irritated not with her but with himself for
so easily allowing her to distract him.

He stared across the expanse of the desk at Sinclair Adams.

She smiled.

His eyes narrowed. He’d have to watch her. Her hold on him was
one that he wouldn’t tolerate. It had been...interesting, before he’d met her.
The way he’d think about her, allow her to filter into his thoughts at night,
mostly, when he was relaxing, and moments before succumbing to sleep. But that
was as far as it was going to go, as far as he would allow it to go.

Damn. He needed his full attention on this matter. He sat
straighter in his chair, making subtle readjustments against his randy cock
inside his jeans.

“Never had a problem with my concentration, Ms. Adams.
Everything I do...” he drawled, keeping his gaze on her. “I do with extreme
focus. Ma’am,” he finished. And smiled at her.

He caught the way her light brown cheeks blushed fiery red at
his words.

Good. Score one for Team Kealoha. Control was back in his
corner.

Now that he had it, he knew he had to put his cock, and what he
wanted to do to her with it, away for the moment to truly concentrate on what
she was saying and what the damn Wildes were proposing.

“In layman’s terms, the charge you and your family have levied
against the Wildes claiming right of inheritance. We are simply proposing that,
as the late Clint Jedediah Wilde had no knowledge of you or your brother, it was
without malice that you and your brother were not included in the inheritance of
his property as well as monetary inheritance. Because of this, your lawsuit is,
in fact, unwarranted. However, we are willing to discuss a settlement.”

“A settlement, huh?” he said, feelings of anger swamping him as
well as his judgment. Making him completely put to the side that he had actually
decided not to go forward with the lawsuit. “I’m not sure this...proposal is
going to work.”

“And your brother? Your father? What are their thoughts on this
situation? Do they share your feelings?” she asked, pinning him with a look.
“And don’t you have to show this to them first? To your brother?”

He felt the heat of her focused stare.

Discerning.

It was as though she saw right through him. He’d been right in
his assessment of her: she was one to watch. He’d have to make sure at all times
that he was the one in the driver’s seat; he could tell she was used to that
privilege belonging to her.

He subtly adjusted his approach.

“Of course I do. And I will, Ms. Sinclair. We are a united
family,” he said, deftly sidestepping the question.

She stared at him, not saying a word, simply holding his
gaze.

She finally spoke. “That wasn’t exactly what I asked, Mr.
Kealoha.”

He knew what she was asking. He simply had no intention of
answering. Not until he had a hold on the situation and had decided exactly what
he
did
want and how he planned to go about seducing
her out of it.

His initial anger gone, he had been ready to tell the Wildes
and their attorney to go to hell. But now, all of that had changed. Now he
wanted to...play...with the Wildes’ attorney.

“Just like the Wildes, the Kealohas are united.” His mouth
firmed briefly before relaxing, a smile crossing his wide lips. “In fact, in the
spirit of the Hawaiian tradition of welcome, why don’t you meet them? My family,
that is,” he said when she looked confused. “Tonight.” Before she could protest,
he finished, “Have dinner with me.” He smiled at the look of surprise on her
face. “With my family.”

BOOK: To Tame a Wilde (Wilde in Wyoming)
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