To Tame a Wilde (Wilde in Wyoming) (2 page)

“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.

Chapter 2

N
ick Kealoha frowned, his eyes scanning the computer screen, rereading the latest correspondence via email from the Wildes’ attorney.

For the third time.

A sneer kicked the corner of his mouth upward into parody of a smile. The fools hadn’t wanted to deal with him, so they’d sicced their lawyer on him.

“Damn woman,” he grumbled as he strummed the fingers of one large, long-fingered hand absently against his desk. The other hand was poised over the keyboard as he thought about what he
should
have said instead of what he had said in response to the email.

As he reread the lawyer’s message, despite his self-avowals to the contrary, the woman was getting to him.

That self-admission alone ticked him off.

His eyes studied the email from Sinclair Adams, the attorney for the Wilde Ranch of Wyoming.

Greetings Mr. Kealoha,

After consulting with the Wildes, I am informing you of the family’s wish for a more personal approach in dealing with our...situation. Unfortunately, over the course of the past week you have ignored my certified mail as well as ignored my phone calls, and I feel as though the situation is degenerating versus improving. To prevent a complete breakdown in communication, and to continue with the path we’ve been on—resolution—we, the Wildes and I, feel it is best for a one-on-one approach. To this end, please expect a visit from me to the A’kela Ranch. It is our sincere hope that you and your family will be able to meet with me so that we may resolve this matter to the satisfaction of all parties. I will arrive Tuesday of next week in the hope that you and your family will work with me to resolve this matter.

Best,

Sinclair Adams, PLLC

He’d received the correspondence, spoken to his brother about it and promptly dismissed the woman from his mind.

Or tried to.

“Lot of damn good
that
did,” he muttered.

He’d known she was on her way to the island. Known about it and hadn’t told his family about it until it was too late for either his brother or father to call the Wildes or their lawyer to settle the matter.

He’d even told her he would send a driver for her.

He wanted her here, on his territory.

A feral grin split his mouth into a smile.

From the beginning of his...interaction with Ms. Sinclair Adams, Nick had found himself in a state of semi-arousal.

Didn’t much matter when it happened. Whenever he either thought of the irritating woman or had
any
type of contact—written, emailed or verbal—his body reacted.

Hell, he could just listen to his voice mail and his cock was hard as granite.

The one time they’d had the Skype conversation...

Damn.

Even as he thought about it now, his cock hardened and his balls tightened in memory.

He’d seen pictures of her plenty. He’d known what she looked like, and had been intrigued. She had a different kind of beauty. Not traditional, but no less hot to him.

Then they’d spoken on the phone. They’d had conversations that had left him wanting...more. But the video interaction had taken it to another level.

Their conversation had been heated and he’d alternated between wanting
her
and wanting to strangle her pretty little neck. As soon as he’d gone to bed that night, he’d relived their exchange and the whole “wanting her” part had taken over.

And he’d promptly had one of the hottest dreams he’d had as an adult male. He had woken up with his shaft, again, in his hand, his seed spilled over his stomach.

With a mild curse he’d reached over, pulled open the side table drawer and withdrawn a napkin, which he now kept at the ready for that very reason.

He’d had more wet dreams over the past few months because of her than he’d had, collectively, as a randy teenage boy.

It had gotten to the point he was beginning to think she’d cast some kind of spell on him. He’d never been so worked up over a woman he’d never met in person, much less one who was in the enemy camp, so to speak.

As soon as she’d begun to communicate with him, he’d researched who she was.

His initial thought had simply been to go by the creed of “know thine enemy.” But it had turned into something...more.

Although calling the Wildes his enemy was a bit of a stretch. His anger had actually cooled toward the deception his mother had kept hidden for all those years: that he and his brother were the product of an illicit affair.

He cursed, low, his voice barely audible.

And no matter what his feelings toward Jed Wilde, whether he’d known about his and Key’s existence or not, it wasn’t his true father’s—Alek Kealoha’s—fault.

In fact, he’d been ready to call it off, and just let it all go. It wasn’t as though he really wanted anything Jed Wilde had, or anything he’d left to his adoptive sons. Nick and his family had a ranch that was just as impressive and in no way needed anything the Wildes had. They were doing damn fine on their own.

He’d even told both his father and brother the same thing, much to the relief of both. They, too, didn’t want anything the Wildes had, nor were they interested in dredging up old family dirt. They’d come to a resolution about it all, and now that both Clint Jedediah Wilde and their mother, A’kela Kealoha, had passed away, there was no need to protect anyone.

Even though there was still a small part of Nick that wanted to know what kind of man Jed had been, in the end, neither he nor Key wanted to hurt the man they’d called Father for their entire lives.

Yet, after the first encounter with Sinclair Adams, what he had found out about her through his amateur sleuthing had left him wanting to know more. So much so that he’d continued his threats.

Just because of her.

He wouldn’t call himself a research nut by any means, but he damn well knew how to find out about a person if need be. He had taken to the internet in the hope that he’d learn more about her, assuming she was some high-powered attorney.

What he’d learned had left him even more intrigued.

The Wildes were easy to research. He’d simply entered the name of the ranch and, presto, a virtual flood of information was at his fingertips. It had taken a while, but he’d eventually uncovered information about Sinclair.

Pictures of her on the Wilde Ranch had shown a young woman he didn’t believe could possibly be the sophisticated woman portrayed in both the smooth-toned voice mails she’d left on his phone and the succinct emails she’d sent.

Further stealth-mode investigation had showed that it was indeed the same woman. Not only was she on the Wildes’ website, there had been a hyperlink that directed him to her own website. Her bio had been impressive.

She appeared young, too young for the accomplishments listed in her biography. He’d frowned. Although young, she’d built quite a name for herself in her area of expertise in law.

Now working primarily as the lawyer for the Wildes, from what Nick had been able to learn from his internet search, she’d also had dealings in corporate law. She had interned with a prestigious law firm in Cheyenne, Wyoming, before returning home. She’d listed the Wyoming Wilde Ranch as home and he’d frowned, wondering if she had grown up on the ranch.

Just as on the A’Kela Ranch, Nick knew that many of the larger, successful ranches had generations of family members that worked and lived on the ranch. He’d guessed she was a family member.

He’d reached out and called her. In a voice low and sexy, feminine yet husky, she’d had him hard as hell, sitting up in his seat and listening intently to the low-toned voice smoothly inform him of her clients’ wish to settle this unfortunate incident with as little “fanfare” as possible.

It had taken a minute for the insult to register.

And now, after four months of cyber interacting, she was on her way to the ranch. All that cyber
interacting
had him on edge.

He felt his cock stir at the thought. Unconsciously he adjusted himself within his jeans. If she made him feel in person even the
slightest
bit as she had during their previous interactions—verbal heated conversations, sharply worded yet oddly arousing emails and voice mails... He shook his head.

Hell, yeah. Things were about to get really interesting around the Kealoha ranch.

* * *

As he told his brother about his dealings with Sinclair Adams, Key remained silent throughout the conversation, down to Nick’s informing his twin of the woman’s upcoming arrival.

After he finished speaking, he waited.

It hadn’t taken long.

“What?” Nick asked, mildly irritated and somewhat unnerved by his twin’s silence and sharp regard—two things he didn’t necessarily like linked when it came to his brother and his uncanny ability to know what was on Nick’s mind.

Key simply raised a thick brow and shrugged, coffee mug in hand, his gaze steady and intense.

“What
what?
I didn’t say anything,” Key replied. He brought the rim of his coffee mug to his mouth and took a casual sip, his eyes still focused on Nick.

Nick’s brows bunched.

“Nothing to say, bro?”

“What do you want me to say?” Key threw back the question, shrugging. “I have better things to do. Besides, you know my stance on that situation.”

Nick pushed away from the counter where he’d been lounging, feigning a nonchalance he was far from feeling, and just as casually as his brother, refilled his coffee mug.

“Better things to do? Like you and Sonia producing the next generation of Kealohas?”

Two could play the game. Just as Key had an eerie ability to know what was going on with him, Nick could do the same with his twin.

One of the many perks of being an identical twin and for that same twin to be his best friend.

If he wasn’t in such a
mood,
he’d laugh at the expression on Key’s face.

“How did you...” Key began, only to stop. He shook his head and barked out a laugh instead. “Never mind.”

Nick laughed along with his brother, breaking the tension. He then went on to tell him the details of Sinclair’s impending arrival.

* * *

After listening to Key cuss a blue streak, telling Nick what he thought of his lack of brains, to put it mildly, for not letting the family know “what the hell was going on,” the two men sat at the kitchen table.

Although he really wasn’t up for a “
Dr Phil
” moment, Nick had haltingly opened up, slightly, to his brother. He was glad when his brother finally reacted.

He’d spared Key the more embarrassing details. Hell, there was no sense in telling his brother what was going on with him. He wasn’t sure what was going on in his own psyche, anyway. And to go into confusing feelings for a woman he hardly knew...? No. That wasn’t going to happen.

He laughed even thinking about it. He could only imagine how Key would look at him. Nick had never really been the type of guy to share his thoughts that easily. Even with his brother, the closest person in the world to him, Nick was still, at times, the clam.

But there had been times in his life, like now, where he’d felt a real need to break the mold. So he opened up a little, at least enough to tell Key that he wasn’t sure how to handle the situation with Sinclair. He’d known he’d have to come clean, if nothing else, to get a feel for his brother’s take on the situation.

As he spoke, Key listened, not saying a word. When Nick finished his succinct tale, Key stood from the table and slapped his brother on the back...hard.

“I’m sure you can handle it, bro. In fact, I know you will,” he stated, his voice emphatic, a tinge of humor laced in.

Nick sat back, puzzled.

His brother continued. “I’m so confident in your abilities that on behalf of the family I’m
giving
this to you.” The evil gleam in his brother’s eyes, blue eyes that matched his own, should have given Nick fair warning. “Consider this...‘situation’ solely your deal. Dad and I are out of it. I’m sure you’ll figure it all out.”

Again, his brother smacked him on the back.

“What the fu—” Nick bit off the curse, jumping up after his brother’s hearty smack on the back, toppling his chair as he rose. Swiftly he righted the chair and turned to face his brother.

“What the hell, man...that’s
it?
” he asked, staring at his twin as he calmly walked to the sink, coffee mug in hand.

“Yep. That’s it, Pika,” Key replied, snorting.

Whenever his brother used his nickname, it always set Nick’s teeth on edge. Not because he didn’t like his nickname... He’d been called Pika, which meant “strong” in the Polynesian language, since he was a boy.

Nicknames were nothing new. Key’s legal name was Keanu, but he’d been called Key for most of his life. It irritated Nick because he knew there were times when Key used the nickname simply to screw with him. Something both men considered their God-given right to do: give his twin a hard time.

Nick had always thought of it as good old-fashioned fun. Until he was on the receiving end.

Just as Key placed the coffee mug in the sink to rinse—
no one
wanted to deal with their housekeeper, Mahi, the longest resident of the ranch outside of the family, and his rants if the kitchen was left a mess—Sonia, his wife, entered.

She quickly spied her husband. A wide grin split her pretty face as she made a beeline for her new husband and wrapped her arms around his waist.

“Hmm, last night was amazing, baby,” Sonia purred, her voice low, throaty and intimate, once Key released the death grip he had on his wife’s lips.

“It’s been way too long, baby,” she murmured as Key reached down and captured her lips again. Finally he released her, enough to glance down at her, keeping her within the circle of his arms.

“Yeah, it felt like forever,” Key agreed, his voice barely recognizable it was so low.

Key had been away on an overnight trip, so really it hadn’t been that long, Nick thought, shaking his head.

“Little Alek isn’t going to magically appear, you know. It’s going to take dedication and hard...” He paused and unashamedly pressed his wife close to his body, allowing her to feel which part of hard he was referring to. “Work,” Key murmured, stopping to give Sonia kisses down the line of her throat. “And work...” He paused again to capture an earlobe.