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

home?”
    “As if!” Her heart thudded double-time as the rush of adrenaline hit.
    He eased off the accelerator and the car drifted back to something approaching the speed limit. “So this trouble you’re not staying around for?”
    Uh-oh. He’s not going to let that slide?
    “Sorry. Silly comment.”
    “Out of your deep dark subconscious, Sammie. Where the things you really want lurk, just waiting to surface.”
    She glanced across at him, disconcerted, and saw one corner of his mouth kick up into that wicked grin again. His gaze held hers briefly before he turned his attention back to the road.
    “You want me Sammie, you can have me. I’d have broken the law to have you at the orchard. In fact maybe I did break the law. Skated close anyway. Would that have been classed as ‘unlawful carnal knowledge’ if we’d been found out?”
    “No!” she choked. “No way, Nick. No-one could have accused us of that.”
    “Accused me .” He shook his head slowly, gazing far ahead at the traffic. “You had me under some kind of spell.”
    So it was mutual? Or was he just a horny teenager ready to experiment with anyone female and willing?  
    “Did I run away from you?” she demanded. “Object to what you did? What we did?” She swallowed, uncomfortable talking about it, but pleased to get it out in the open all the same. “I was fascinated, Nick. Enthralled. Only just waking up to the possibilities of sex. Hearing the talk from people, but with no way of knowing what was true.”
    “And no way of asking your grandparents.”
    That surprised a puff of mirth out of her. “Ha! Exactly. The orchard was hardly a hotbed of depravity.”
    “Oh, I don’t know...”
    She shot him a suspicious glare. His lips pressed together as though concealing secrets. “What? What? ”
    “Some of the pickers got their rocks off sometimes. Down by the river.”
    “You watched? ”
    “I was sixteen, honey. Desperate to refine my technique.”
    “You had an actual technique? ”  
    Nick tapped the side of his nose. “A gentleman never tells.” And as fast as that, his teasing manner evaporated. “I need to bring you up to speed with the builder. Evan. Don’t trust him. I’m going to make it clear you’re mine, and that should hold him off.”
    “But I’m not, and I can look after myself, thank you.”  
    Nick accelerated to warp speed and barreled ahead of other traffic. Then he slowed and pulled into line again. He looked across at her, daring her to disapprove.  
    “But if I sling an arm around you, you won’t have to look after yourself. He’s on his third wife, and according to my sister-in-law this current marriage is in trouble, too. Good builder, bad bastard with women.”
    Sammie settled back in her seat and closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth of the sun. Beside her Nick stayed silent as though he’d settled the matter. The tires sang on the road, the engine crackled and hummed, and her concentration drifted. Soon, he clasped her hand and said, “Nearly there.”  
    She peered out the window at rolling countryside. “I thought this house was at the beach?”
    He checked his rear view mirrors and signaled a turn. “Wait and see.” He left the main road with a squeal of tires and then immediately braked.
    Sammie bounced against her seatbelt as they hit the rough gravel surface of a farm road.
    “Sorry, should have given you more warning.” Not that he looked the least bit sorry. He navigated the rutted surface with care, and then slowed to a stop as the ocean appeared far below.
    “But...how...?” She gazed down at the suddenly disclosed view, then back to Nick. A flock of sheep lollopped away in the adjacent field. They stood staring for a few moments, and sensing no further danger, returned to nibbling the bright grass.
    “Magic, huh?” he said.
    “Amazing. And where’s your house?”
    Two minutes of cautious downhill progress brought them to an area of overgrown trees with tall brick chimneys