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Driving Him Wild
Driving Him Wild
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Driving Him Wild

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Driving Him Wild

‘Is it?’ she taunted in answer to my offer.

I might have been attempting to rile her, but she was having a ball reciprocating.

‘Is there a reason you refuse to use my first name?’

‘I think we both know why.’

Why the hell was this friction turning me on? This wasn’t the type of interaction that got me off. ‘Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot—’

‘No. I think we got off on the exact right foot. I remind you of the baggage you’re attempting to shed by running off and hiding in the icy wilderness next to the Arctic Circle, and you don’t like it.’

Anger fired up inside me, even while I was thrown by her near-accuracy. ‘I’m not running anywhere,’ I bit out.

‘Aren’t you? Sorry, my bad.’

I snapped the tarp over the equipment with more force than necessary. ‘You don’t sound sorry at all.’

She shrugged. ‘I’ll work on my sincerity while we head for wherever you’re taking me next. Shall we?’

We stared each other down, with the friction and tension increasing with every moment that ticked by.

I’d had enough of that with Stephanie, each moment with her spent on the uncertain edge of judging a mood that could veer from icy indifference to volcanic.

Walk away.

The faster I completed this assignment, the quicker I could be rid of Graciela and the unsettling emotions she evoked.

Slowly, as if she’d read my intentions, her expression changed to one of steady assessment tinged with boredom.

Absurdly, that only riled me further, the need to ruffle feathers she’d effectively smoothed with a dismissive thought firing through me.

‘You get a kick out of being contrary?’

She shrugged. ‘Maybe. Or perhaps you simply don’t like the truth pointed out to you. Either way, we can still talk while we…sled. Is that what you call it?’ She gestured at the animals.

‘You know exactly what it’s called,’ I replied, noting absently that my heart was beating faster, my senses more fired up than they had been in weeks. ‘Pretending you’re less intelligent than you actually are may be a turn-on for other men. Not me.’

‘And you think that’s what I’m trying to achieve here? To turn you on?’

God, the way she said that, with the exact cadence engineered to stroke my cock. Did she practise it to get that perfect degree of hotness and craving?

I had a feeling she knew the exact effect she and her voice were having on me.

‘I don’t think you utter a single word or make a move without calculating the exact effect you wish to achieve.’

Like a switch her expression grew icy, her eyes dimming to a dull brown before she blinked and cast a disdainful glance at a spot over my shoulder.

I’d struck a nerve. For a moment I wanted to take back my words, but then I wanted to know just what I’d done. To explore that nerve, get to know it better. So I might know this woman better?

She’s only here for another day. You don’t move in the same circles so if you don’t want to, you won’t need to see her ever again.

That thought…dissatisfied. I wanted to know Graciela. If for nothing else, to satisfy myself that my instincts weren’t wrong about her. That my craving was misplaced. That she was another wannabe, unworthy of the name…

Dominant.

My senses jumped. Harder than before, my gaze falling once more to those biteable lips. To her clothes and what lay beneath. To how it would feel to receive her command to unwrap her, lay my hands on her bare skin, feel her silky pulse jump beneath my touch. Hear her voice hitch with arousal as she revelled in controlling my every desire.

Even if it was a matter of losing myself in a woman just for the hell of it, with no agenda or deeper meaning, I was up for that.

‘I don’t believe I’m paying you to stand around and work out my IQ, Mr Scott.’

Keep your money. This one’s on the house.

I swallowed the words. I was richer than I’d be able to spend in one lifetime, courtesy of a life-changing photograph taken on a faraway continent. I’d been doing well before the photo that had propelled me to fame and fortune had set me up for life. I didn’t need her money, true. But I suspected a gesture like that would impress her even less. Not that I was out to impress her. And really, why the hell would I want to cut my nose to spite my face?

More axioms, Jensen?

I cursed the mocking voice and gestured at her to get back on the sled.

Disdain and designer sunglasses firmly in place, she hopped back into her seat.

The next destination was forty minutes’ sled ride away and, save for a quick stop to water the dogs, we completed it in silence.

Killik Falls was a natural waterfall cascading from a tiny blue lake cradled in one of the many glaciers situated between Prudhoe Bay and Utqiagvik. The sight of the blue water bursting through a wall of ice was a stunning phenomenon, a fact evidenced by Graciela’s gasp when I pulled the sled to a stop near a flat plateau on one of the glaciers.

‘Wow, that’s breathtaking.’

I let out a relieved breath, noting annoyingly that I’d hoped the sight would please her as much as it’d pleased me the first time I saw it. ‘Yeah.’

She stepped off the sled, sliding off her shades to get a closer look. When she glanced at me there was only curiosity in her eyes. ‘It all looks great. So why here?’

‘It should’ve frozen over two months ago.’

Her face cleared, leaving behind a solemn look. ‘Ah. I see.’ She took in the snow-dusted fauna around the lake while I took out my equipment. ‘How long has that been happening?’

‘Steadily for the past ten years.’

Her lips tightened, but she didn’t answer, her gaze flitting over the landscape to pause thoughtfully on the waterfall. ‘That’s…disturbing.’

Suddenly, I didn’t want to film the waterfall. I wanted to capture her reaction, the way the failing light teased shadows and light over her features.

She would be an interesting subject to photograph. My fingers clenched around the camera, the insane urge to aim my lens at her, zoom in close and catch every emotion, swelling higher with each moment. It grew strong enough to zap alarm through me.

‘Perhaps we should get on with it?’

I didn’t reply. Wasn’t sure I wanted to interact with her while in the throes of…whatever this was. Instead, I went to work, getting a vast array of shots so I didn’t miss a thing. When I was satisfied, I put my equipment away and glanced at my watch.

‘Gloom or glory?’ I asked. I had a site for either in mind I could squeeze in tonight, and her brief had called for five location shoots. While the cracking glacier earlier had been a bonus, I was technically required to do three more. I glanced over at her, caught the shiver she tried to hide. ‘Or are you ready to call it a day?’

Her gaze shifted to the covered equipment at the back of the sled. ‘Did I spot a tent in there?’

I frowned, inexplicably tensing. ‘Yes. Why do you ask?’

‘Did you plan on spending the night on the snow?’

‘Not tonight.’ And certainly not with her in tow. The last thing I needed was her kind of distraction.

‘When?’ she pressed.

‘At some point. When you’re not here,’ I added pointedly.

Again she surprised me by smiling where I’d expected her to be offended. She approached, not stopping until our bodies were six inches apart.

‘Guess what my favourite game is, Mr Scott,’ she murmured, her voice low, husky and sensually loaded enough to achieve its aim of curling tight around my cock.

‘Winding people up?’

‘Wrong,’ she breathed. ‘That’s my second favourite. My first is Tug of War. Care to know my percentage on wins?’

‘Sure. Enlighten me.’

She leaned up and in, until our condensed breaths mingled. And fuck if that didn’t heat my blood. ‘It’s high, Mr Scott. Very high.’

‘Very high doesn’t mean one hundred per cent. Which means on occasion you lose.’

Her smile widened. ‘Perhaps. But you’re contractually obliged to give me what I want.’

‘Or what? You’re going to fire me? I’m the best,’ I answered, with a tinge of well-earned arrogance. ‘Your PM told you that or you wouldn’t have hired me.’

‘Nothing as melodramatic as firing you. More along the lines of thinking you wouldn’t want to deny a client’s reasonable request. Would you?’

‘I’ve yet to hear what this reasonable request is.’

‘You want me to spell it out?’

‘Just so we’re clear, yes.’

‘You. Me. In the tent. Tonight. Doing whatever you were planning to do.’

Her words were deliberately phrased to get a rise out of me. And fuck, did they just. My cock hardened at the imagery, my gaze unable to shift from the perfect curve of her lips. No wonder she had men in a lather all over the globe.

She already had me in a lather, all over the innocuous idea of spending the night in a tent under the Alaskan sky. Time to defuse this before it got out of hand.

‘I always travel with a tent. You don’t know when the weather will turn. Or when a night shoot will reap rewards.’

‘What particular reward were you hoping for?’

I shrugged. ‘The forecast is for a clear night. I was hoping to score a borealis on video as part of the project.’

I caught the faintest hitch of her breath. She didn’t outwardly show her excitement, but the thought of witnessing an aurora borealis was a phenomenon most people rhapsodised over.

She slowly lowered her heels and slipped her shades back on, but even with the shield, I felt the power of her hypnotising stare. ‘In that case I’m going to have to insist on staying,’ she said after several seconds.

My pulse tripped, then raced at full speed. The thought of spending the long hours of the night with her in a tent, a woman even the most red-blooded alpha males feared, filled me with equal measures of dread and anticipation.

Overlay that with the persistent thought that she could be a Domme…

Again, where I should’ve refused, I found myself shrugging, moving to the back of the sled to grab a thicker anorak. Returning to where she stood watching me, I held it out. ‘It’s a bit of a trek, sometimes over rough terrain. Bumps and bruises are unavoidable but wear this and you won’t freeze to death.’

She took the anorak and shrugged it over her suit, then sent me another spine-tingling smile. ‘Thanks. And when we arrive at our destination, you can tell me what her name is.’

I froze. ‘Excuse me?’

‘The name behind the baggage you’re running away from. I’m sure she has one. I’d love to hear about her.’

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