Wild Nights with her Wicked Boss

‘Slow down.’

She doubted he heard, with the wind whipping her words away as soon as they left her mouth, and he continued stalking, huge strides that had her practically jogging along next to him.

Okay, so she’d pried into his personal business, opened an old wound that explained why he’d been stuck behind a desk the last two years, but if she didn’t clear the air the next few months could be tough.

‘Hold up.’

She reached out, tugged at his jacket, startled when he stopped abruptly and she slammed into his back.

‘Ouch!’

She rebounded and would’ve fallen if he hadn’t grabbed her, imprisoning her in a vice grip.

‘What now?’

She could barely see in the dim street lighting, but heard the exasperation in his voice.

‘We need to talk about this.’

‘No, we don’t.’

He hadn’t eased up with the Tarzan grip and her concern quickly morphed into something else, something a lot like a woman all too aware of six feet plus of hot, sexy male within touching distance.

‘You’re ticked off. Not a good start to our working relationship. I don’t want to leave things like that.’

She bit down on her tongue, realising she was babbling and wishing she could tuck her Gore-Tex between her legs and hightail it back to the hotel like a good little employee, leaving her Pinocchio nose out of his business.

‘Like what?’

‘Tense. Awkward.’

She shrugged, feeling more foolish by the minute, a feeling that only increased as she focused on the patch of smooth bronze skin at the base of his throat where his parka zip didn’t go all the way up.

The colour of his skin matched her favourite crème caramel dessert, oh, so tempting A bizarre urge to lick it popped into her mind as an inane craving to taste him urged her to close the short gap between them and…Just one little lick, surely that wouldn’t be harmful? Yeah, just as the calories never went straight to her hips when she ate the real thing.

Lost in a fanciful haze, she missed the moment he loosened his grip and started running his hands over her upper arms, and though she wore a woollen jumper under the parka her skin tingled.

‘Doesn’t seem too tense now.’

She stared at his lips, transfixed. The last thing she needed was a kiss from her boss. What she wanted, now that was a different matter entirely.

Her eyelids fluttered shut and she tilted her head up, eager to feel that first liberating explosion of sensation when lips fused.

No kiss was as electrifyingly exciting as a first kiss and she had a feeling Rhys would know all the right moves. He had the attitude, the confidence, the lips that just begged to be kissed and she’d forgotten every sane reason why she shouldn’t.

She waited, every second an exquisite lesson in torturous anticipation, every second taunting her with a million logical arguments why she should pull away now and make a run for it.

‘Damn it!’ He muttered a string of soft curses under his breath as he released her, the air between them suddenly frigid as her eyes flew open to be confronted by a broad expanse of back.

He’d been a sigh away from their lips touching and he’d had the willpower to stop the kiss. Willpower she should’ve had.

Mortified, she didn’t know whether to laugh it off or pretend it hadn’t happened. Yeah, as if that were an option.

She knew it was for the best he hadn’t kissed her their first night in Alaska; mixing business with pleasure was crazy, especially when she’d have to spend the next six months with him. Then why did she want to blubber like a jilted wallflower on prom night?

‘Well, I guess we’re back to tense again.’

Her false laugh grated, but they had to get past this, had to forge some kind of working relationship. No way was she heading back to Australia without some decent work experience on her CV to help facilitate her entry into university.

He turned, his gaze raking over her yet giving away little as he ruffled the dark hair curling slightly over his collar.

‘Won’t be tense if we forget that ever happened.’

His calm voice and confident stance were at complete odds with her tumbling belly and quivering resolve. She should’ve admired him for it; instead, his cool nonchalance aggravated her beyond belief.

Of course they should forget it. But ignoring the four-hundred-pound bear in the corner of the igloo wouldn’t make it go away, and no way could she survive the next six months with this tension humming between them.

‘So we’re supposed to forget the fact you almost kissed me?’

His lips curved into the kind of smile that made forgetting the urge to kiss him impossible.

‘Maybe you almost kissed me?’

‘No way! You were holding me, you leaned towards me, you—’

‘I get the picture.’

He shook his head, but his smile merely widened. ‘Must’ve lost my head for a moment. Forgive me?’

With that cheeky smile and naughty gleam in those incredible blue eyes, how could she refuse?

Besides, nothing to forgive. She’d wanted that kiss so badly she’d practically invited it: leaning into him, tilting her head, closing her eyes…

She inwardly cringed, outwardly fixing the serene expression she’d used to great effect at many a boring function.

‘Forgotten.’ She snapped her fingers. ‘Just like that.’

‘Good.’

She should’ve been relieved they’d brushed over it so easily, should’ve been grateful they could laugh at it thanks to his handling of the situation.

But there was nothing remotely like relief or gratitude simmering between them as they stood there, gazes locked, the frosty air steaming from the short breaths they exhaled, the tension buzzing between them as potent as ever.

She had to escape before she did something foolish—again.

‘I’m heading back to the hotel. See you in the morning.’

He nodded. ‘I won’t be far behind you. ‘Night.’