He bit back a curse.
She made his cock rock-hard within seconds, while making him think.
Think about what it was he was angry about. Who? Why?
He frowned, pushing back the memories, the thoughts. Right now, as whenever he was around her, he found he didn’t want to think of anything or anyone else that might interfere with them.
He knew he had it bad for her and didn’t give a damn. Not now.
Although the corral was teeming with cowboys, it could have been a ghost town as far as he was concerned.
For that moment it was only the two of them.
And he knew that he had to do something about the way he felt about her. It had been only a week that she’d been at the ranch, but that, with the six months they’d been communicating, which felt like six months of foreplay, made him a powder keg ready to blow.
When he stepped outside the enclosure and approached her, he stopped, an unknowing smile on his face.
His gaze raked over her face, down the long line of her slender neck, to the deep V of her dress, where her small, perfectly round breasts crested over the top of her bra.
He saw her nipples pucker beneath the dress and growled low in his throat, dragging his eyes away to meet hers.
He loved that he could make her body react like that.
His shaft hardened uncomfortably in his jeans.
He reached out and brought her hand to his mouth. He knew some of his men were watching. Didn’t really give a damn.
He’d had enough. He was about to claim what was his. Even if she was his for a short time, until it was her time to go, or when this fever that had claimed him relented. For now, she was his.
He was about to claim what was his. Tonight.
“Have dinner with me tonight?” he asked, his voice low, rough with need.
He saw her eyes widen and her pulse bang against the soft line of her throat.
He felt a need to conquer her. To take her and have his way with her.
He moved nearer, truly unaware of what he was doing, his actions one of a man going blindly on instinct. Like a wild animal.
He brought a hand up to her waist, bringing her close to him. To that part of him he wanted to wreak havoc with, claim and dominate her with, like a stallion claiming his mare.
In the background, as though from a distance, he heard the snorting of the animal he’d just broken as it allowed his men to take it away.
He kept his focus on Sinclair.
“You’ll be coming home with me afterward.” The promise was low, so low his voice was barely above a gravelly rumble within his chest.
He saw that little pulse of hers jackhammer against the soft skin of her throat before he ran a tongue over it, then lightly bit her, claiming her.
Chapter 14
When Nick asked Sinclair to go out again, this time with them alone, she could tell that her agreement surprised him.
Not to mention the hot words he’d whispered—no, promised—against her neck. She shivered at the memory. It was more like a heated sexual threat, one that shouldn’t have turned her on as much as it had, as it still did. But, God, it did.
After he’d made his decree she’d known that he’d realized, too late, how it sounded.
So demanding.
Claiming her.
And even more, Sinclair had known her agreement surprised him, particularly after she’d followed it up with a kiss, which she leaned on tiptoe to plant on his cheek. Along with a whispered agreement against his ear.
She’d bit the lower flesh of his ear and he’d stared down at her, the expression on his face one she’d never forget.
Making her feel her power as a woman.
Yes, there was no denying he was a dominant, sexual, alpha man. One she just might allow to...lead her, she thought, a purely feminine smile on her face as she glanced at him over her shoulder and slowly ambled away.
Knowing his gaze was straight on her butt, she’d put a little extra something-something in her sway.
Two could play at that game.
If nothing else, the fact that she had been able to surprise him, turn the tables on him, show him that it was she who gave him the power and that he wasn’t taking it from her...made her feel good. Damn good.
She grinned as she applied her lipstick. For a nanosecond, at least, she’d had the upper hand.
Her time at the Kealoha ranch had been one of lots of twists and turns. From their first meeting to now, she hadn’t known what to expect from Nick Kealoha. And she knew that was exactly what he’d wanted: to keep her off kilter.
She stared into the mirror, a contemplative look on her face.
“It might be fun,” she said to her reflection. “A date...with Nick Kealoha.” She stopped, shaking her head and laughing lightly, softly. That just sounded so tame, but she knew it wasn’t going to be. He had already told her. And although she’d flirted with the notion of going back to his home with him, to make love, as she knew that was what he meant—no grown man said he was going to take you home to play board games, after all—would she really go through with it?
Is that what this was? A date?
The first time she’d had dinner with him had really just been a meeting between her and his family, a time where she’d gotten to see with whom she was dealing.
She’d expected the worst. She’d thought that, like Nick, the rest of the family was as anti-Wilde as he was.
She’d been surprised to find out just how wrong she’d been and since then, the family had been just as welcoming to her as they had been during that first meeting. She’d even met the elder Kealoha earlier in the week. He, like his sons and daughter-in-law, had been pleasant.
She snorted...not that she was expecting “pleasant” with Nick.
Pleasant wasn’t exactly the way she would call her interactions with Nick. That was entirely too mild a word to describe the way he made her feel.
Confusing, funny, perplexing, infuriating...hot. He brought a bevy of emotions and feelings to the surface. But pleasantness was not one of them.
“A date. Just the two of us?” she asked her image aloud.
“Girl, no. Get yourself together. This is just a business conversation and nothing more. The quicker we can come to an agreement, the better. What’s the worst that can happen?”
Peering into the mirror closer, she examined her face, scrunched her nose, frowning... Was she looking for traces of self-denial, maybe?
She lifted a shoulder and made a self-mocking moue at her own reflection.
Maybe.
Or maybe it was the irritating little pimple that was trying its best to form on her chin. Just what she needed, dang it.
Carefully, she applied her favorite Mac cream-to-powder foundation over the red mark before lightly dusting her face.
Usually she wore a minimum of makeup: a light dusting of translucent powder, and mascara to darken her lashes and light-colored or sheer lip gloss. The lip gloss protected against both the harsh winters and hot summers back in Wyoming.
But this time she wanted—needed—the full “armor.”
She wanted everything in her arsenal. She had an idea what the night had in store for her, and she wanted to look her best.
With the determination of a general preparing for battle, she unzipped the small makeup bag packed with all her favorites.
As she deftly, expertly, began to apply her makeup, she tried to remain calm about the night in front of her.
She frowned absently at her image in the mirror, turning her head to each side to make sure she’d applied the makeup subtly.
Sinclair wanted to look good. Not like a made-up clown headed to a rodeo.
She laughed at herself, thinking of one of the many colorful say
ings Miss Lilly kept in her arsenal. “Locked and loaded...and ready to unleash.”
A small smile played around her full lips as she thought of Miss Lilly...or Mama Lilly, as most of the kids who, like Sinclair, had grown up with Lilly as a mother figure, called her.
Before she’d left for Hawaii, she’d spoken with the older woman, gleaning wisdom from her, as usual. But she’d left...sad. It was as though she was saying goodbye to the woman she’d long felt was a mother to her. Which made no sense. She’d felt the same way after Nate had said his final words to her, before she’d left the ranch for the airport the following day. Her grief indeed made no sense.
As soon as her business was conducted and done...she was headed back home.
Yet, even as she thought about it, Sinclair knew that some major decisions were in front of her.
She’d come to realize that as much as she loved the Wildes—they were, after all, like family—as well as the ranch life—the only life she’d known for all of her twenty-seven years—she was ready for a change. Though she wasn’t sure what that change was or what form it would take.
She sighed deeply, shoving those thoughts to the back of her mind.
One hurdle at a time, she reminded herself.
She felt that queasiness enter her belly again, the kind you felt when your belly bottomed out on a roller coaster. It was the same feeling she got when she thought of Nick and his hot sexual threat.
She slowly rolled her head from side to side and fought for composure, determined to hold on for the ride.
Chapter 15
“If you’re on the menu, I’m going for takeout. Damn.”
Sinclair’s eyes widened at the very cheesy line that came out of Nick’s mouth the minute she walked up to him, meeting him in the hotel lobby.
Her startled gaze met his and when she saw the humor lurking in his deep blue eyes, she laughed, relaxing.
“What? You don’t like that one?”
She shook her head no, laughing.
“Damn. And I spent the entire day working on it!” he said and she laughed outright again.
“Well, keep on trying,” she said, laughing again, immediately relaxing against him as he escorted her out of the hotel and into the warm breezy night.
She glanced up at him, smiling, and her smile slipped just a little.
He was such a beautiful man. Beyond handsome. The man was gorgeous.
He tilted his head to the side, silently asking what was wrong as he glanced down at her, his hand lightly cupping her elbow as they stood outside waiting for his vehicle to be brought to them by the valet. She shook her head, a smile on her face.
“Beautiful night,” she said, glancing around.
She’d been to Hawaii once before in undergraduate school, and had even done a tour of the major islands, but she didn’t recall it being so beautiful, the air so warm yet crisp.
“Yes, it is,” he said.
She glanced up at him and felt her confidence slip at the discerning look in his eyes.
He brought a thumb up to touch her face, his finger caressing her chin.
He wasn’t talking about the night.
He brought their lips together in a brief kiss, too brief, before releasing it when the valet smoothly delivered his vehicle curbside. After tipping the uniformed man, he escorted her to her door, then jogged to the driver’s side.
“I have the perfect place to take you. You’re going to love what’s on the menu,” he promised.
This time there was no double entendre, nothing at all that should have had her holding back a groan. Fear and anticipation warred for dominance as he smiled over at her, his white teeth gleaming in the dark cab of his truck.
Dear God. She was in trouble. Deep, deep...deep trouble, she thought, smiling back at him weakly.
* * *
Surprisingly, dinner had been amazingly...uncomplicated, for Sinclair.
Yes, the sexual tension was there. Wasn’t any way it wouldn’t be with the way they’d been dancing around each other.
She wasn’t going to even try to pretend that she didn’t find him sexually exciting...she was sure there wasn’t a woman alive who could claim that. In fact, their banter had increasingly become hotter and more exciting. What they’d begun six months ago was finally being realized. She suspected even he hadn’t been aware, to the extent they now were, of exactly what they’d been doing since their first communication.
But Nick had done something very subtle, yet she’d caught it. Initially his sexual energy had been raw, palpable...and nearly overwhelming. She remembered the feeling of being run over by a Mack truck. The feeling hit her and kept on hitting. Battering, unrelenting.
The feeling of being prey for the big lion she’d imagined him to be earlier.
But somehow, as the time they’d spent together had increased, and they’d been around each other more, something else had changed, as well.
Yes, he was still devastatingly sexy and overwhelmingly...male. And yes, he still made her panties wet with one heated look.
But he was more...approachable. Approachable as in the fear of being swallowed whole by him had slightly diminished, she thought.
She shook her head, an unknown smile on her face.
She took another small spoonful of the creamy custard the waiter had delivered right as Nick had left to take a call. She’d promised to wait for him before she tried the dessert if it came.
She’d lied.
“Hmm,” she murmured. She’d never had coconut custard of this variety before. “Too good,” she said aloud and ran the spoon back and forth over the dessert to smooth it out so he couldn’t tell she’d tried it. She glanced over her shoulder to see if he was coming.
“Should I be jealous of the custard?” The deep voice that broke into the love affair she had going on with the custard, startled Sinclair, making her cough a little. She was thankful she’d managed to swallow before that happened, as the last thing she wanted was for him to see her spewing custard from her nose.
Not sexy.
“Started without me, huh? Can’t say that I blame you.”
She watched as he took his chair, a chagrined smile on her face. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist,” she said around a mouthful of the delicacy. She frowned. “For such a big guy, you sure can tiptoe up on a woman,” she grumbled, and he laughed outright. She responded to his laugh with a grin.
Even his bark of a laugh made her squirm, she thought, watching as he began to dig into his own dessert.
God, is there anything he doesn’t do sexy?
“Hmm... I don’t know. My brother has lied for years that I snored as a kid. I didn’t. He did.” He spoke around the spoonful of custard, the smile on his face causing a fizzle in the area of her stomach.
It took a minute for his comment to register.
When it did, her face heated up. She ducked her head, so embarrassed she wanted to crawl under the table. And low-crawl all the way out of the restaurant.
“Did I say that out loud?” she was almost afraid to ask.
“Yeah,” he said and winked at her. “I’m too sexy for this custard.” The wink was so exaggerated along with the silly quip that again he had her giggling and at ease. If she wasn’t careful she could really fall for him, she thought.
As she watched him eat, that half smile of his in place as he kept her gaze, she wondered if it was too late. The spoon dangled in her hand.
He frowned. “Don’t get all delicate on me now,” he said. “Eat your dessert!”
“Actually, I’m full. As good as this is, I’m going to have to have it wrapped up,” she replied, forcing a smile.
He raised a brow. “So you’re telling me the woman that managed to put away that feast we ate...can’t take on a small helping of coconut-cus
tard ice cream and whipped cream? No way! I’m not buying it,” he replied as he picked up his own spoon.
The laugh that bubbled up was unexpected. There was something about him that at times made her squirm and at other times made her want to laugh.
Although she knew she needed to be careful around Nick, she couldn’t help the way her guard seemed to naturally relax around him.
“So what are you trying to say? If I recall correctly, I wasn’t the only one, um...enjoying the meal,” she said tongue-in-cheek and laughed when he nodded his head in agreement.
“No, but in my defense, I am six feet five inches and weigh two twenty-five. But you...” He stopped and stared at her, his gaze running over her as though he was examining her. “What are you... like five-five and ninety pounds, wringing wet?” he said, his eyes assessing her.
Two things happened. She was only a few inches over five feet, so his giving her extra inches gave him points. And guessing her weight at only ninety pounds...well, she wanted to kiss him for saying that alone.
She knew he was being funny, lighthearted, but the way his gaze went over her, especially the “wringing wet” part...it was as though his hands were touching, feeling her.
Keep it light, girl, keep it light, she reminded herself. And purposely took a big spoonful of the custard and winked at him as she did so.
“I was hungry,” she said, shrugging. “I may be small, but I can eat,” she said and he laughed along with her. “And never let it be said that Sinclair Cross Adams allowed a little custard to get the best of her!”
With that, and with relish, she polished off the remainder of her dessert, keeping the silly giggle from erupting from her mouth at the faux look of amazement that crossed his handsome face as he watched her take the last bite.
And lick the spoon. Front and back.
“Delicious. Down to the last...bite,” he said. Just like that, he affected her.
She decided that the idea of air-conditioned undies was something she was seriously considering inventing herself.
Chapter 16
“Well... Thank you for the evening. It was...nice,” Sinclair said, the inane words that tumbled from her lips the best she could come up with.
To Tame a Wilde (Wilde in Wyoming) Page 10
