Читать книгу To Tame a Wilde - Kimberly Kaye Terry - Страница 12

Chapter 3

Nick pinched the high bridge of his nose and pulled his glasses away from his face, frowning deeply.

“What’s the problem, old man? Sight not as good as it used to be?”

Startled, believing himself alone, his thoughts still on Sinclair, Nick glanced up and away from the computer screen to see his foreman standing in his office doorway, arms folded over her breasts, eyebrow raised.

“Hmm... Last time I checked, you weren’t that far behind me in age, Alli-oop,” he replied sardonically, a small grin threatening to break free. “What’s up? Come on in,” he said, waving Ailani Mowry inside his office.

“Don’t want to interrupt,” she drawled, yet pushed away from the doorway and ambled inside his office nonetheless.

“Hell, it’s not like I’m getting any work done, anyway,” he growled. Although he wasn’t about to disclose the true reason for his malcontent, he couldn’t keep the irritation away from his voice.

He glanced at the monitor and realized Sinclair’s picture filled the entire screen. He could only imagine Ailani’s reaction if she saw that image as his screen saver. Like he needed that.

Swiftly, casually, he minimized the screen and maximized the previous screen he’d been viewing: a PDF showing the projected budget revenues for the upcoming quarter.

No sooner had the spreadsheet appeared on the screen than Ailani was standing beside the desk, peering over his shoulder.

“Looks like we’re going to be up in revenue significantly for the upcoming quarter,” she commented and, without asking, grabbed for the small chair near the desk. She dragged it over closer to his chair, her eyes never leaving contact with the monitor.

He glanced over at her as she peered at the screen, completely ignoring him and the chair. Ailani and he shared history. No two ways about it, she was a beautiful woman, even as she “hid” her beauty.

More often than not she was seen wearing her long thick hair in a tight French braid tucked beneath the battered pink cowboy hat she’d worn since the beginning of time.

Many had thought the two of them would end up together. But despite growing up together from the time they were children, and the short stint where they’d shared a romance, the two had maintained a platonic relationship.

He continued to watch her as her eyes darted over the graph. When she turned to face him, although her eyes were hidden behind the tinted glasses she typically wore to shield her sensitive eyes, he caught the scrutiny.

“So, tell me. What were you really looking at with such intensity when I walked in, Pika?” she asked, a smirk creasing the corner of her small mouth. “And don’t tell me it was this projection. It’s not even the one from this quarter,” she noted, crossing her arms over her ample breasts and waiting.

His eyes flew to the screen. Sure enough, instead of the PDF showing the budget for the upcoming quarter, it was the one from the last quarter.

Damn. His head was most definitely not in the game.

Just as he had with his brother, he feigned a nonchalance he was far from feeling and tried to play it off.

“Comparing last month’s feed budget projection with the actual cost, cross-comparing it with the upcoming fiscal year’s budget to determine if we need to reevaluate the project. And if so, do we need to make cuts in other areas to make up the difference.”

His response was quick and sounded knowledgeable.

He hoped she actually bought his bullshit.

There was silence for longer than Nick liked, yet he kept his eyes glued to the screen.

Ailani leaned forward and brought her body closer to his. A hint of patchouli and hibiscus wafted across his nose; a scent she’d been wearing for as long as he could remember.

She jabbed a short but manicured nail at the screen, pointing to one of the columns.

“Who came up with this projection? No way is this budget anywhere near what we’re looking at for the upcoming quarter, nor does it make any sense for the new fiscal year!” she huffed, her eyes scanning the document on the screen. “Between the hike in prices in grain and feed, as well as the new shipment of steers we purchased last year, we’re looking at a number substantially higher than this,” she proclaimed.

Nick breathed a sigh of relief.

An irritated Ailani was much more preferable to a discerning one.

Of everyone he was acquainted with, besides his twin, Ailani was one of the most astute individuals he knew. If she caught even a sniff, a whiff, that something wasn’t quite right, she’d hunt it down. The woman could teach his father’s best hounds the true art of the hunt.

Lucky for him, her hound-dog nose was holstered for the present.

She wasn’t paying much attention to him; her attention was purely on the ranch’s budget.

Despite himself, he bit back a grin. Good thing he now thought of Ailani like a sister, or her lack of attention would have been insulting.

She leaned even closer, the right side of her breast brushing against his shoulder.

“What are you thinking with these projections? Geesh, what would you do without me, Pika? Knucklehead...” she grumbled, pushing even closer, the side of her breast nearly colliding with his nose.

“I know you want me and all, but really, Ailani, could you get your damn boob outta my face?” he complained roughly. He barked out a laugh when she distractedly batted a hand at him, ignoring him as she continued to peruse the document.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would think I didn’t do anything for you, Ailani...but we both know that isn’t true. What with you practically nursing me and all,” he continued, knowing she wasn’t paying much attention to what he said.

“Pika,” she mumbled, her voice completely distracted. “Whatever,” she finished, dragging out the word, the frown on her face growing.

Without looking behind her, she blindly reached for the chair she’d dragged to his desk earlier. Moving it closer, she plopped down in the seat.

As she examined the document, Nick continued to make completely inappropriate, off-color comments to Ailani, chuckling when she continued to ignore his baiting.

If she even heard it. Which he doubted she did.

When it came to her job as ranch foreman, all else became background noise to her. Which made it even more fun for Nick to tease her.

Just as he grinned and opened his mouth to make yet another inappropriate comment about her boob pressing into his face, a cough at the door caught his attention.

“One of your men told me you were alone. But if I’m interrupting, I can...you know, come back later.”

His eyes flew to the door and the grin slowly slipped from his face.

He jumped from his chair like a soldier would when his commanding officer entered. So fast that his chair shot out from under him and probably would have toppled over had Ailani not caught it.

Not that he was giving his foreman any attention.

That honor went solely to the woman who had claimed more of his attention than she had any right to.

The woman who had him waking up in the morning, rock-hard shaft in his hand, finishing off the job she’d started. If only in his dreams.

Her voice alone brought his cock to full-on “salute” status. Just like the good soldier that it was.

Husky and low...it poured over him like scalding rain. Even as it held a chastising note, it was turning him on in ways he’d never experienced from simply listening to a woman’s voice.

Hell, maybe that whole chastising tone she had going on added to the overall effect.

Whatever it was, it—she—had him hooked.

Her voice was velvety smooth and sexy, the type that reminded him of rainy days and sleeping in with a lover. But then his glance ran over her, head to toe. As hot as her voice was, it was nothing compared to her body.

Damn.

Live and in living color. On his turf... With no more provocation than that, his cock stirred.

Although he’d only seen pictures of her from the internet, those pictures were scorched permanently into his mind.

One of those images came to mind. The one he’d found of her at the Wildes’ ranch and had printed out on the spur of the moment. The same one he’d glanced at just last night before he’d succumbed to sleep.

The dream spurred from that image had been one that had haunted him as he’d wakened. His cock hardened even more as his gaze raked over her now.

There was no denying who stood in his doorway, one arched brow raised, small bow-shaped lips pursed, stiletto-heeled foot tapping.

Sinclair Adams.