Free Resisting Nick (Wicked in Wellington) by Kris Pearson Page A

Now it felt like foreplay.  
    “Leave it there for now.” His voice sounded a shade huskier than earlier.  
    Sammie’s bones buzzed as she registered the sexy timbre.
    “No-one comes in except the cleaners,” he continued. “And they don’t touch what’s on my desk. Ready?”
    Readier than you know...
    “I’ll grab my bag and jacket,” she said, glancing at her watch and trying to appear cool. “Are we done for the day?”
    Nick grimaced. “You are. I’m not.”
    “Pity the poor old boss...”
    “Not so poor any more, and not so old, thanks.”
    She laughed as he crossed the office and pulled the door further open. He stood just far enough back to let her pass, but she had to squeeze by quite close. She almost bumped hips with him, and her red top brushed against his snowy T-shirt, dragging gently as it caught on the soft knit fabric. A frisson of anticipation shimmered through her. God, he smelled good.
    “Who’s on duty?” She turned aside to put some distance between them.
    “I’ve let Heidi and a couple of the others know we’ll be out together.”
    And what are they going to make of that?
    “See you downstairs,” he called as Sammie headed for her locker.

CHAPTER EIGHT

    This time he waited beside the sleek black car, door open, ready to play the attentive escort. The independent woman in her wanted to scoff, but somewhere in the primitive sensual side of her brain, it felt nice being treated with such courtesy. Grandpa had always done that. For a moment, she ached with the recent loss of him, then pulled herself back to the present. This was no Sunday drive with Grandpa.
    Nick touched her arm as she sat, and the warmth of his fingers burned through the red fabric of her sleeve. “Want me to stow those for you?”
    She handed him her bag and the document tube, and he leaned in close and tossed them onto the back seat. His scent drifted across the small gap between them, and she angled her head slightly so the smooth curve of his bicep stroked past her cheek when he pulled his arm back.  
    He looked down sharply, as if to check he hadn’t hurt her, and Sammie met his eyes and said, “Oops.”  
    “You looking for trouble, Sammie?” he asked before closing her door with a thud.  
    Was she? She leaned back into the seat, not really knowing what she was looking for, but enjoying her low-angle view as he strode around the front of the car. His chest and shoulders caught the sun, beautifully defined. The muscle cut under his stretchy white T-shirt looked magnificent, and she gave a small sigh of appreciation before he opened his door.
    Trouble? Yes, he’d be trouble. No doubt about it. Hot dangerous trouble that might singe her very soul.
    He sat, and looked across at her—face serious, eyes full of chocolate shadows. Suddenly he looked a lot more like the Nicky of old. The boy with the smoldering ‘I want’ expression who had so thrilled and discomforted her when she’d been younger.
    She shrugged. “I won’t be here long enough for much trouble.” She bit her lip and cursed her runaway tongue.
    He sent her an unreadable grunt and a slight lift of one dark eyebrow.
    “We’ll see.” Which left her on edge and wondering. “Ready to rock’n’roll?” He revved the engine and the car howled with glee and vibrated with barely leashed energy.  
    To her surprise, he drove circumspectly, pulling into the late afternoon traffic with ease and navigating Wellington’s sometimes narrow streets like a model citizen. So much for expecting a macho demonstration of power and aggression.
    But the moment he hit the expressway he floored the accelerator and the Ferrari snarled and sprang away from the surrounding vehicles, arrowing ahead like a bullet. The throaty roar of the engine and the huge surge of speed drew an unwitting gasp from her, and Nick laughed with all-too-evident enjoyment.
    “Thought you might like to see what she can do. I bet you didn’t get a chance when you took Tyler