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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 7

H
ave dinner with me.

The request caught her off guard and Sinclair tilted her head to the side. “For what purpose? I think you’ve made your position clear. And to that end, I think it best for me to wait for you to confer with your family before we go further, Mr. Kealoha.”

The entire time she’d been in the meeting with him, her nerves had been taut, tighter than a string on one of her guitars.

The fact that she’d managed to speak in an intelligent manner was something she was eternally grateful for. The man had her on
edge
...

She struggled to clear her head. She couldn’t say it was anything he was doing; couldn’t really pin any one thing, one action or word that put her in the state she was in.

Nothing other than him.

She sucked in a breath, her glance stealing over his hard body. And he was enough.

She kept her attention on the estate matter, reminding herself of her years of concentrating on long, boring legal briefs that no matter how mind-numbing, she had to plough through to not only understand but to pass her exams.

“We can discuss this further. Nothing is set in stone, Ms. Adams. Besides, I need to speak to my brother, and sister-in-law, and of course my father, before going any further. It is, and will be, a family decision.” For a moment a hard look crossed his handsome face and she felt her heart thump against her chest in reaction.

In that moment she saw how he and his brother, along with their father had one of the most prosperous ranches in Hawaii. Just like her Wildes, this man and his family were a force to be reckoned with.

But so was she.

She offered a broad smile.

“I think our work is concluded for now, Mr. Kealoha,” Sinclair said, closing the fastener on her briefcase and preparing to leave. “If you could contact me once you have presented the proposal to your family, I would appreciate it. Although you have my cell, here is my card. On the back I have the hotel name and number where I can be reached,” she said, withdrawing a card from her wallet and placing it on his desk.

He lifted it, examining the card, turning it over, his brow furrowed.

She had to get out of there. Now. She needed to collect her thoughts, set up a game plan.

The meeting had begun with a rocky start, yet over the course of the past hour and a half, it had gotten smoother and she’d relaxed. As much as one could relax with a predator in the room. One that looked ready to pounce at any moment, despite the relaxed manner he’d showed throughout the meeting. Sinclair shuddered.

Yet for all of that, Sinclair felt as though she’d been in a battle with a tsunami.

And she wasn’t sure she’d been the victor. Unlike most times in her interactions and in her role as an attorney, when she’d felt sure, confident. Yes, she felt confident in her abilities as a damn good attorney and in her negotiation abilities.

She’d stolen a glance at him from beneath lowered lids on more than one occasion throughout the time of the meeting. The last time he’d caught her, she’d glanced away, pretending a nonchalance she felt anything but.

The entire time she’d tried to ignore the strong attraction she felt for him. Yet her glance would steal over his strong arms, braced on the armrests of his chair, and the soft-looking chambray shirt that lay open at the top, exposing a black, V-necked T-shirt stretched over a hard-muscled, broad chest. Not to mention the faded Levi’s covering long legs stretched out in front of him or the large, cowboy-boot-clad feet casually crossed at the ankles beneath the desk.

Her gaze caught on the lean planes of his face, the intensity of his blue eyes, deep set and heavily rimmed by thick dark lashes. The lashes being so dark against his blue eyes, coupled with the way she’d catch him eyeing her, had been unsettling. Intense. It was as though he was looking at her and had discerned her deepest, most...private thoughts.

A tiny shiver feathered down her spine.

It was her ability to withstand him as a woman that she was concerned about.

Quickly she stood and, with nervous hands, clutched her briefcase closer to her body, as though it could ward him off.

“Staying at the Royale, huh?” he asked.

She felt as though he were mocking her somehow.

“Yes. The Wildes made the reservations,” she murmured.

“Nothing but the best for their...lawyer,” he said, and she felt her hackles rise.

Yes, it was a luxury hotel, with a spa, as well.

After Althea Wilde had made the reservations and Sinclair realized how luxurious the hotel was, she’d protested, to which Althea had hushed her and laughed.

“Girl, you may as well enjoy Hawaii while you’re there. No sense otherwise! Besides, Nate agreed with me when I told him,” she’d said with a wink.

Reluctantly, Sinclair had accepted the grand gesture. She knew that Althea had grown up with money as the only child in a wealthy political family, though she herself had had to work hard at minimum-wage jobs from mechanic to waitress for a stretch of time as she had been on the run from a crazed ex-lover before coming to the Wilde Ranch.

“Yes, well, as I said, there is my contact information,” was the only thing she said in reply.

He stood, as well. She gulped down a breath as she gazed over at him. Unable to move, but knowing she should, she stood rooted to the spot, transfixed.

He kept her gaze.

Feet, move, damn it!

Nothing. She couldn’t move an inch to save her life. She finally was able to stop gawking at the man and breathed a sigh of relief. She turned to pick up her purse and looped it over her shoulder before turning to face him.

“Beautiful.” His deep, sexy voice said the word with an almost...reverent sound.

Startled, Sinclair met his gaze, her heartbeat racing at the compliment.

“The leather,” he continued. “It’s gorgeous. May I?” he asked.

Before Sinclair could respond yes or no, much less acknowledge the ridiculous disappointing feeling that he wasn’t referring to her but her briefcase, he strode over to her.

He reached out and touched the soft case, running his fingers over the supple leather.

“Um...yes,” Sinclair sputtered, caught off guard. “I suppose it is,” she finished, unnerved by the interaction. “Okay, that is. For you to touch my briefcase.”

She stopped speaking, feeling all kinds of crazy.

Instead of his eyes on her, he was staring at her briefcase. She didn’t know if she should be insulted or not, she thought, a strange need to laugh coming over her.

His glance met hers, a wicked grin on his face.

“Soft, supple...smooth,” he said, his voice lowering. “I like things... smooth.”

As she watched him fingering her briefcase, her breath caught in her throat.

She moistened her lower lip. “Thank you,” she replied, her voice low. “I think,” she mumbled before lifting her eyes to his. She cleared her throat. “It was a graduation gift,” she said and watched again as his fingers reached out and caressed the leather.

Her gaze was caught on the action.

His fingers—long, strong and masculine. Just like the rest of him. As she stared in hapless fascination as his able fingers caressed the leather of her briefcase, she found herself wanting, for a brief moment, to feel his fingers doing the same thing to her skin.

She swallowed the melon-ball-size lump that had formed at the back of her throat at the thought.

“Let me guess... Your
Wilde Boys
gave it to you?”

The statement barely registered, yet she nodded.

“Yes. A gift. For graduating,” she said again and felt foolish for unknown reasons. Now, besides the breathless quality, she knew she didn’t exactly sound like the Rhodes scholar she in fact had been.

The man was reducing her to a mumbling simpleton.

“Why don’t you come to dinner with me...I mean, the family, Ms. Sinclair? What do you have to be afraid of?” he asked.

It took more than a moment for her to switch gears, snatch her mind from where it was headed to focus on the question.

“What do you have to be afraid of?” he repeated.

Her focus went to his sensual mouth.

A challenge.

He was issuing a challenge. One she knew if she were the smart woman she always prided herself on being, she would definitely ignore. Any business they conducted could be during regular business hours. End of subject.

She dragged her attention away from his strong fingers, and the way he was absently working the leather of her case.

Her gaze met his.

Yes, in them she saw the challenge. She also saw the look of something else in their deep blue depths. Something that was immediately shut down before she could truly see.

“What time?” she asked.

Obviously that something else she’d seen, or thought she’d seen, made her throw caution...and no doubt common sense, right on out the window.

A slow grin tugged the corners of his mouth up into a grin that promised he was absolutely the bad-boy player she’d thought he was from the first moment she’d laid eyes on his image.

Chapter 8

“H
ave dinner with me. The family, that is.”

The request was out of his mouth before he could retract the offer, not that he would want to.

Nick had read the surprise in her face, one that spoke volumes.

Had he not been experiencing that disquieting feeling that told him he was in trouble—deep-shit trouble—in the form of the petite, sexy woman who’d stood in front of him, he might have retracted his words.

Or
because
that same feeling, if he were a sane man, would have made him rethink the invitation.

What the hell had he been thinking, anyway?

Nick ran the brush over the horse’s silky coat, his mind on the meeting he’d had the previous day with Sinclair Adams.

When she’d agreed, he’d known it was pride that had her doing so; she hadn’t wanted to show any weakness. Which was what he’d been counting on. He’d known because, instinctively, he felt she was his kindred spirit in that vein; had the shoe been on the other foot, he would have done the same.

Then his glance had run over her face. The sharpness of her eyes had struck him, the slight shadows beneath them a testimony to her exhaustion.

At first he’d been prepared to try to ignore her look of fragility. A fragility he knew without having been told was one she tried to keep hidden. With a clarity that came from out of nowhere, Nick knew that for all the projection of confident lawyer—which he knew her to be—she was beyond exhausted.

And when she’d told him about the car breaking down, he’d admittedly felt a stab of guilt. It had been childish of him to send Kanoa. He’d known the elderly man’s vehicle, as much as he loved it, was unreliable at best. Nick had told himself, tried to convince himself, that he’d sent Kanoa out there simply to throw some business the older man’s way. But that was a lie. Between him and his brother, they usually kept the elderly man “busy” with work: odd-end jobs around the ranch that didn’t require much in the way of labor.

He should have had one of the guys from the ranch go out to get her— Hell, he should have done it himself.

Nick refused to acknowledge, even to himself, that there was any reason beyond being too busy to do so himself.

He continued running the brush over the mare, his thoughts pensive.

In the end he’d retracted the offer, claiming that he’d forgotten an engagement he’d already agreed to, and promptly hid a masculine grin at the knowing look that crossed her beautiful face.

The fact that she’d thought his “previous engagement” was a date was easy to discern from her expression before she’d shut it down.

The fact that it had...upset her had been visible in her dark brown eyes, as well, before she’d shuttered her lids, lowering them as she fiddled with the clasp on her bag.

He’d felt an odd catch in his chest at the small action.

She’d looked so vulnerable....

From the moment their eyes had met, Nick had been like a damn fish out of water.

With a sigh, Nick began to water down the horse, his thoughts on the woman he knew was going to be more trouble than he’d originally thought.

And all because he couldn’t stop thinking about her. She’d invaded his dreams; months ago, before he’d even met her. Sinclair had done that. Her hold on him was one he didn’t understand, and a big part of him damn sure didn’t like it. It was...uncomfortable. New.

He’d never thought of a woman nonstop, in the way he thought of her, and it had nothing to do with the Kealoha ranch or the Wildes and the Wyoming Wilde Ranch.

Damn the Wildes
and
their ranch; he didn’t want anything to do with them, or it. It was all her. Sinclair.

What had started as a way to get back at the Wildes was now something more. He wanted her to stay around for a while...to get her out of his system, to get her out of his thoughts.

And although he had no intention of pursuing the Wildes’ inheritance, he had to make her think that he did. To that end Nick knew he needed his family’s help, even if they didn’t know they were helping him, or for what reason. They needed to go along with him. Be the united front he’d claimed them to be.

Oh, yeah, and added to that...Key needed to bring his new wife into the deception, as well. Just to make it more convincing. Yeah, that was going to be a lot of fun, he thought, convincing his twin of
that.

Just as that thought came along, Sonia walked inside the stable, along with the horse her husband had recently purchased for her at auction.

He grinned, his mood improving.

He knew Sonia had a soft spot for him, as he had been rooting for her and his brother during their courtship as well as their breakup. He liked to think he was the reason his knuckle-headed brother had seen the light and hadn’t allowed the best thing to ever happen to him walk away.

He hadn’t cashed in on his favor...yet.

Sonia had gone out of town yesterday on a short trip to the main island to meet with one of the investors for the new show she was producing. He had to get to her now, convince her to help him out, before Key knew what hit him.

He felt suddenly like rubbing his hands together like a cheesy villain in a badly produced horror flick.

“Hey, you! When did you get back in town?” he asked, as though he hadn’t been aware she was in the stable. He gave his own mare a final wipe down before closing and locking the horse’s stall.

He threw Sonia a grin, casually, as he quickly strode to her side.

“Let me help you with that,” Nick said, hustling to reach her in time to take the horse’s reins from Sonia’s surprised grasp.

She tilted her head to the side and stared up at him, a question on her pretty face.

“What? Can’t a man help his favorite sister-in-law out?” he asked.

“Favorite sister-in-law, huh?” Sonia replied. One hand on her hip in question. “How about
only
sister-in-law?” she asked with a laugh, but allowed him to take the reins. As she followed him to the horse’s stall, he felt her eyes on his back the entire time.

He knew he had about as much chance of getting something sneaky past Sonia as he did his brother: nil to no chance at all.

But unlike his brother, with Sonia he stood a chance of leaning, heavily, on the whole “you owe me” thing he had going.

As far as using the guilt trip for his brother... He wanted to save that one. For the time he
really
needed to call in a favor.

Not that he thought she truly
did
owe him for the coming together of her and his brother. He knew that eventually the two would have done so, with or without his help.

“So what’s up, brother-in-law? What do you want? Want to meet one of the interns I just hired? Listen, after that last fiasco where we had to call the police, I prefer we keep business and personal separate!”

“No! I don’t want to meet your intern!” he railed as he began to lead the horse away. “It’s nothing like that. Geesh, does it always have to be me wanting to meet a woman, for me to want to help my sister-in-law out?”

Sonia gave him a look.

He swore.

“You know you’re becoming more and more like my brother every day!” he complained as he led her horse inside its stall.

She laughed and went over to grab the feed for the horse as Nick began to rub it down.

“Sorry, Pika” she said, smiling affectionately at the faux look of offense on his handsome face. “Okay. Thank you for the help. I was wrong. You’re sweet as pie. And so generous. And helpful... Did I mention helpful?” she asked, holding back a laugh.

The jig was up. She knew he wanted something from her. Hell, he might as well get on with it.

“Okay, here it is,” he began, pausing slightly when he heard her choke back a laugh. “I want you to help me convince Key to attend a family dinner.”

She frowned as she brought the feed pail over to her mare.

“What’s so hard about that? That’s cake. We eat dinner as a family all the time! And now with Dad out of the hospital and almost back to a hundred percent, family dinners are a regular thing. Which I love! In fact, I was thinking of asking Mahi to make me some of his delicious—”

“Sonia, wait a minute!” he broke in, laughing and shaking his head at his sister-in–law’s enthusiasm for Mahi’s cooking...and family. For a moment the smile lingered on his face as he glanced over at her and her face lit up. “I wasn’t talking about just the immediate family. I was thinking more along the lines of inviting someone—” He stopped, inhaled. Finished, “A woman.”

And waited for it.
It
being her reaction.

He didn’t have long to wait.

Sonia spun around so fast on her booted feet she nearly did a three-sixty, her spin worthy of making any prima ballerina envious.

He snickered but leaped to where she stood, reaching out a hand to steady her on her feet.

“I’ll take this!” he said, taking the pail of feed from her hands and hooking it on to the attachment on the wall.

He gently swatted her mare’s rear end, encouraging it to go and eat.

“Okay. Now back it up, mister. Wh-what? You? Invite someone to dinner... A
woman?
” she asked, astonishment on her gamine face.

“Don’t act so surprised. I don’t know if I should be offended by your shock,” he said, walking over to the supplies they kept nearby, grabbing a brush and returning. He began stroking it over the mare, but gave up the brush to Sonia when she held out her hand.

“Okay. Spill,” she demanded.

She began to brush the animal, pleasure in her face as she took over the task. Nick leaned against the stall wall and crossed his arms over his chest.

She had taken to ranch life as though she’d been born to it. From the moment she’d set foot on the ranch he’d known she was destined to stay.

From the moment she and his brother had first laid eyes on each other, fireworks erupted and
everyone
had known she was there to stay.

He shook his head at his own sentimental thoughts, laughing at himself.

None of that was for him—the destined-mate thing. Immediately, Sinclair’s image appeared in his mind.

Sonia chose that moment to glance at him over her shoulder as she continued to brush the mare.

She gasped, her mouth forming a perfect
O.

“Oooh.... You’re thinking about her now!”

Despite himself, he chuckled. “You know...you sounded like a little kid when you just said that, right?”

“I may sound like a little kid, but Pika has a
girrrrlfriend.
Pika has a
girrrrlfriend.
” She giggled, further making her point, then laughed outright when he reached down to the floor, grabbed a fistful of hay and tossed it at her.

“Brat,” he said good-naturedly.

She brushed aside the hay in her hair, laughing, “I just got my hair done, boy!”

He laughed along with her, thinking that only Sonia could get away with calling him
boy.

Looking at his sister-in-law’s hair that lay on her shoulders, unpinned, as well as the casual way she disregarded the hay, made him think of Sinclair.

He wondered if she ever let her hair down. Just completely relaxed, and allowed herself to be free like that. He knew she had it in her to do so.

He did a quick reality check, and admitted to himself that just about everything reminded him of the woman.

“It’s Sinclair Adams,” he said and carefully watched his sister-in-law’s reaction.

She went back to the task of brushing the mare’s rich dark coat, her expression sobering. “Oh...I see. Was she here, then?” she asked, knowing that the lawyer had been expected to visit the ranch.

He was counting on the fact that his brother hadn’t informed his wife of all the details, and the fact that he’d given Nick the responsibility for “dealing with” Sinclair, as Key had put it.

He scratched his head, suddenly ill at ease. He’d have to tread carefully.

“She is. And thing is, I’m not all that sure what I think about it all.”

“In what way?”

He sighed. “It’s no secret how I felt about my mother and...Clint Wilde. The whole secrecy behind who our father was.... Why our parents never told us...” he began.

Sonya nodded, yet remained silent.

She, like Key and their father, as well as those other few close members of their extended family, was aware of Nick’s anger over the deception.

“What I do know is that I invited her here with the intention of getting what I thought my brother and I were due. I own up to that. But now that she’s here... Hell, Sonia, I’m just not sure.”

“Do you still feel that way, Pika? That the Wildes...owe you?”

“Not so much ‘owe’ as I guess I just wanted an explanation.”

“For?” she asked, continuing to brush the animal, giving it her attention.

Yet Nick knew she was giving closer attention to what he was telling her. It wasn’t every day that Nick opened up.

“For?” he asked, anger tightening his face. “For...why the hell Clint Wilde never checked up on Mom after she left. All this love he had for her... Why not check up on her to make sure she was okay?” he snapped.

She turned to look at him. The softening of her expression and the sympathy he saw there was something he didn’t want.

Even from his sister-in-law, whom he loved; he did not want her to feel sorry for him.

His face hardened.

“Pika...”

He glanced down to see her hand on his arm. He hadn’t even been aware that she had moved toward him.

He barely refrained from shrugging her off, instead forcing the frown he knew was on his face away and his muscles to loosen. He was so tense he felt an ache in his shoulders where his muscles had bunched.

“Hey, it’s not a big deal. I’m a big boy. I’m good.” He shrugged off the anger...the unresolved feelings he felt for a man long dead. “But now that she’s here, I want her to know that my family is united. I want her to meet the family. If for no other reason than to let the Wildes know we are united.”

“Are you sure it’s her you want to know this?”

He pinned her with a glare. “I don’t need a pop-therapy session, Sonia.” He’d hurled the words and felt guilty when her eyes widened and her mouth turned down at the corners.

BOOK: To Tame a Wilde (Wilde in Wyoming)
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