After that, his image had been scored into her brain, from his golden-boy good looks to the bright blue eyes that seemed to show mischief even if the camera wasn’t aimed in his direction. Even if he wasn’t the one the scene was focused on, he seemed to attract all the attention to his broad shoulders, narrow waist and muscled thighs that even behind the signature rugged jeans he wore couldn’t disguise the masculine appeal.
All of him had captured Sinclair’s attention. And although she should have been irritated at the way he seemed to know it, the way he carried himself as though he was the only man on the planet, alpha to the nth degree...she’d found herself getting wet. Just from looking at him.
Sinclair had noticed that although the show featured the Kealoha ranch, the actual Kealohas, both brothers as well as father, were rarely on camera. However, when Nick glanced into the camera and spoke, it was as though he was speaking directly to her.
She felt a tangible...warmth invade her body. Sexual.
Predatory heat...
Ingrained into her mind was the way his low-hooded, intense blue eyes would glance into the camera...his sculpted cheeks... And the hint of a dimple that would appear near his lower lip when he gave that ghost of a smile that Sinclair now associated with pure, raw, masculine...sex.
She sucked in a deep breath of air.
It all screamed that he was a man who knew his way around a woman’s body.
Her face flushed. Her panties grew wet.
Hot mess? Nah...she was way past that.
“Uhhhh!” The growl of frustration slipped from her lips and Sinclair quickly snapped her eyes open and batted them profusely.
She needed help.
Nick Kealoha was a player. Straight. Up. Player.
No two ways around it. It was all in his image. The way he carried himself. She’d read his bio...and she was not going to be played. Never had, never would.
Sinclair straightened her spine and tossed her hair back over her shoulder. She ignored the way her thick, wavy curls refused to behave, and how the once-straight strands were a memory of the past.
She ran a hand over her hair and circled the bunch in one hand. After opening a pocket of her messenger bag she’d tossed on the bed, she withdrew a covered band and deftly secured the thick, dense mass of curls.
No. She did not see him as one part of the “dynamic duo” that he and his twin had so cheesily been dubbed by the media.
She only saw the irritating man she had come to truly...have issue with.
Their communication had begun when Sinclair had taken over all dealings with the Kealohas immediately after Nick’s initial terse letter to the family, demanding retribution.
Although the Wildes, as well as Sinclair, had been surprised to find out that their adoptive father, Clint Jedediah Wilde, had fathered a set of twins more than thirty years ago, they had been happy, ready to meet their “brothers” and to hear their story.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t long after that that they realized the Kealohas, in particular Nick Kealoha, was not exactly in the “family reunion” sort of mood. His demand was concise, to the point. He and his brother were demanding they get what was theirs legally: interest in the Wyoming Wilde Ranch.
“Not even gonna happen,” had been the collective response from her Wilde Boys, big arms crossed over their large chests, faces set.
Although she didn’t feel like smiling, the image of the big men, hard looks across their handsome faces, brought a smile to her face.
Although the Wildes were adoptive brothers, sharing no blood link, the men were just about as close as three brothers could be. And when they felt threatened it was quite an impressive sight to see them rally together.
Ready to kick ass first and take names later, if necessary, as Holt Wilde had once so eloquently put it.
Not that it would come to that, Sinclair had assured them, confident in her abilities as a mediator and the speed with which she’d contacted the Kealohas. In particular, Nick Kealoha.
Soon, her confidence had taken a radical turn.
With their first correspondence via email she’d known she was in trouble. She’d immediately sought out verbal communication after his rude response to what she’d viewed as a perfectly reasonable request for a meeting.
He’d ignored her, as well as her request for a meeting, to the point she’d felt every one of her back teeth would grind down to dust in her frustration from dealing with the irritating man.
Finally she’d gotten him on the phone and sparks had flown swiftly, strongly. After hanging up, Sinclair had felt as though she’d been skinned alive.
She’d felt...unnerved by the man. His voice had been the first thing to cause the dichotomy of feelings.
Low, sexy...rough.
She’d felt her heart slam against her rib cage, but had forced the crazy reaction to the side.
This was war. And from the get-go, he’d identified himself as the enemy.
Shelving the odd feelings, she’d at first wanted to walk away, but had known she couldn’t, that she wouldn’t.
She was not only the Wildes’ lawyer, she was...family. There was nothing she would not do for her Wilde Boys. With resignation she’d gone to work, seeking to find out what she could about the Kealohas.
It hadn’t been hard. As soon as she’d discovered they’d had their own reality show, the information had been relatively easy to acquire.
Not that she’d had to go that far for info. As soon as she’d plugged their name into her search engine, there had been pages and pages of information. And images...
For as much information as she’d uncovered about the men and their ranch, there had been just as many images, if not more. Identical twins who not only ran the most successful family-owned-and-operated ranch in Hawaii, but were also drop-dead fine? Yeah...there’d not been a shortage of images.
From the moment she’d laid eyes on him, she’d known Nick Kealoha was going to be impossible to deal with.
“And I was right,” she murmured. “And now...time to face the devil,” she whispered as she got up off the bed. And heard the excitement...fear in her voice.
That was the sum total of what she would allow herself to think about: the fact that he was nothing but an irritant. A sexy-as-hell irritant, but nonetheless an irritant. One she would deal with swiftly and be done with.
A mocking little laugh echoed in her ear. She swatted it away with her hand as though that would make it, and the reason for it, disappear. Nothing more than a nuisance.
Sinclair swiftly opened her suitcase and withdrew clothes to change into. Time was of the essence. She’d do a quick refresh and be out.
She ruthlessly tamped down the annoying fissure of delight she felt curling through her spine.
This was just a meeting. A meeting where she would do the best she could to make sure her Wilde Boys were not milked and taken for what was theirs, if not by true birthright, then by sweat, blood and tears.
Sinclair ignored the excited sliver of...something... that rushed over her at the thought. Something she refused to name. Yet, try as she might, that also refused to go away.
She hadn’t met the man.... The thought occurred to her that by coming to the Kealoha ranch in Hawaii, she just might have bitten off more than she was willing to chew.
Even that thought excited her.
No one was taking anything from her boys, not if Sinclair had anything to say about it. And if that meant taking on the devil himself, she was just the woman for the job.