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To Tame a Wilde
To Tame a Wilde
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To Tame a Wilde

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As though touching her, his voice reached out and...caressed her. Did things to her. She felt a trickle of moisture dampen her panties.

A shiver of awareness slithered down her body and she struck out her tongue to dampen lips that had gone completely dry.

“Sinclair.” His deep, rich voice made her heart catch. She forced her eyes open and realized he was close. Too close.

Back up! she silently yelled—begged—him.

She felt claustrophobic.

Her gaze met the level of his throat. His neck, thickly corded with muscle, worked as he seemed to swallow.

Immediately her breasts reacted. Heavy, they felt engorged, her nipples pressing urgently against the thin silk of her brassiere. One she should have thought twice about wearing, as it had about as much protection against the heat of his stare as a thong in a snowstorm.

It was as though she knew this man...really knew him. On a level that made no sense to her.

It makes no damn sense, Sinclair! she silently screamed at herself.

Come on...his throat is sexy, a mocking voice piped in, laughing at her.

As soon as the thought entered her mind, Sinclair rejected it. She dragged her eyes away from his throat. Since when did she find a man’s throat sexy?

Frick!

Okay. Control. Bring back the control, girl, she admonished herself.

But, God... The combination of his voice and those hypnotic blue eyes, along with his impossibly handsome face...not to mention his body—big, hovering, masculine body. It all summed up to making her feel like a house cat in heat. Trapped, with no outlet.

She hadn’t been in the least bit afraid to bring the battle to their camp. She was just that type of woman. Bold. Without conceit she knew she could handle hers when it came to any sort of...battle. So when it had come time to battle the Kealohas, Nick in particular, she’d not thought twice about it. She had, in fact, relished the idea after months of dealing with the stubborn man.

Yet for a moment she wished to God she could reverse time. Rethink her “you don’t know with whom you’re messing” decision to fly to Hawaii and confront the Kealohas.

But she had no time for a redo.

She had to deal with the situation. And deal she would. She’d never been the type of woman who was afraid of a man, fine or not.

She placed a faux smile on her face and pushed away from the door. Allowing him to usher her inside, she walked in front of him, trying for a nonchalance she was far, far from feeling.

She was glad she’d decided against throwing on her flats. The five-inch pumps she was wearing were just what she needed to help give her a bit of an edge.

She knew his eyes were glued on her butt as she walked ahead of him.

She put just a hint of something extra in her walk and shrugged on her confidence as she would her favorite sweater.

“I think you and I have some unfinished business, Mr. Kealoha,” she said, firmly tamping down the ridiculous pull he had on her.

She was proud of the way her voice came off. Strong, confident...and not in the least bit showing the crazy nervousness that quivered within her belly.... A nervousness she’d never, ever felt when dealing with any other legal situation.

“Indeed we do, Ms. Sinclair,” he rumbled in his “hot sex on the platter” voice. She felt...something slide over her as he spoke.

She turned to face him. Oh, yes... She was in trouble.

“Looks like you’re going to be busy for a while, Nick... I’ll catch up with you later,” the pink-hatted woman said as she made her way to the door.

Sinclair barely registered her presence.

The woman laughed softly as she left, saying something that Sinclair didn’t even catch, she was so caught up in...him. It was as though no one else was in the room.

“I’ll work on the new figures and we can go over them later, Lani,” she heard Nick murmur to the woman, yet his hot blue-eyed gaze remained fixed on her.

Neither one of them noticed when the woman left the room, quietly closing the door behind her.

Sinclair licked her bottom lip, her gaze still fixed on Nick.

His scrutiny was sharp, focused, the intensity making her feel off-kilter. Uneasy.

Suddenly, intuitively, she knew what a gazelle felt like caught in the stare of a lion.... A hungry, beautiful lion.

Dinnertime. And he looked like the type that would... Eat. Her. Whole.

She swallowed.

Chapter 5

The 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.


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