Under Pressure. Kira Sinclair
out like broken glass between his clenched teeth.
“Obviously. Why don’t you tell me what it is, so I can fix it?”
He shook his head.
She growled beneath her breath.
Asher glared at her for several seconds, the burden of their mingled frustration a physical weight pressing in on them both.
His lips drew tight, flattening into a harsh line. It didn’t take a genius to realize he wanted her to leave. Tough. She wasn’t going anywhere until this was solved.
“I don’t like being on camera. I have a st-st-stutter that gets worse when I’m under stress. Starring in your damn documentary pretty much pulls every trigger. I can’t do it.”
Kennedy’s eyes widened. She took in Asher’s grim expression. The way his shoulders had begun to hunch downward. She’d watched this man storm into their conference room. She’d seen him chew out one of the guys on their dive team because he’d been lax about his safety procedures. On several nights out with the team after work, she’d watched him deliberately, coolly and expertly seduce some bar bunny into going home with him.
For a brief moment she wanted to laugh again. But she couldn’t. Because she’d heard the hesitation in his words.
It wasn’t the first time she’d heard it, either, but it was the first time she’d really thought about it. It didn’t happen often.
She’d listened as he’d addressed boardrooms, led conference calls and shot the shit with her brother and Knox countless times without the hint of a problem.
In fact, in all the time she’d known him, she could count on one hand the number of times it had happened. Before, she’d dismissed it. Hell, sometimes her brain moved faster than her mouth and she stumbled over words.
But his scant flash of horror, concealed almost before it had a chance to appear, made her pause for the briefest moment.
Slowly, she said, “Okay.”
Her heart thumped erratically inside her chest. He hid it well, but Kennedy could see the edge of vulnerability that Asher’s admission had cost him. Could see the tension filling his body as he braced for her to verbally pounce on what he’d just revealed.
Because that was the relationship they’d shared for months.
But this wasn’t him ribbing her about the night he’d bailed her out of jail for indecent exposure or her teasing him about the revolving door he’d clearly installed in his bedroom.
One long look into his brilliant green eyes and her chest ached for him.
Damn the man for actually being human.
An expletive ran through her head. Kennedy’s knees buckled. Luckily, she was close enough to the table that her rear hit the edge instead of the floor.
Asher’s hands bracketed her hips, steadying her. “Easy.”
The imprint of each of his fingers burned into her skin. Kennedy registered her body’s reaction to his touch but pushed it aside. She didn’t want to notice how he made her feel. And she had bigger fish to fry.
Oh, this was a clusterfuck of immeasurable proportions.
“Why didn’t you tell me before now?” she finally whispered. If he’d been honest with her, she might have been able to find a way to fix this mess. Now they were both stuck in the middle of the Caribbean with a production team that expected a beautiful former navy SEAL as an expert, and she had none.
“Right, because there’s nothing humiliating about admitting that kind of weakness to a beautiful woman.”
Kennedy wasn’t sure which part of that statement to address first.
“But I’m not some woman, Asher. We’re colleagues. You’re my brother’s business partner and friend. What did you think I would do?”
He shrugged, looking wholly vulnerable and adorable all at once. It was unexpected and called to the quiet place inside her that liked being needed.
“I haven’t exactly made your life easy.”
“Jesus, Ash, we snipe at each other, like siblings.”
His fingers slipped beneath the hem of her shirt, grazing the bare skin at her hip. She couldn’t stop the involuntary inhalation of surprise that whistled past her parted lips.
Asher groaned. “Not like siblings.”
What the hell was going on? Had she walked through that door and into an alternate universe?
No, this couldn’t be happening. Not now. She’d ignored her attraction to Asher for two years. Gone out of her way to subvert it.
Given her sketchy history with men, the last thing she needed was to get entangled with her brother’s business partner and best friend. Not to mention a man who was technically her boss.
Placing her hands on Asher’s chest, Kennedy pushed. For several seconds, he resisted, an immovable wall of male flesh that made her feel itchy and needy and trapped all at once. Until he stepped back and cool air flooded her lungs.
“So,” Kennedy said, forcing determination and a calm she didn’t quite feel into her voice. “What are we going to do?”
WHAT WERE THEY going to do? They weren’t going to do anything. He was going to have to figure his way out of this one.
But the first thing he needed to do was get Kennedy out of here. He’d been in some of the most remote, desolate and hot as hell places on earth. But with her standing so close to him, Asher felt as if the air was an inch thick, clogging his lungs. That damn scent of hers clung to him, something sweet with an undercurrent of spice. A little innocent and a lot tempting.
“We aren’t going to do anything, cupcake.” He frowned, pulling his focus away from her and onto the gun sitting on the table behind her.
She’d shocked the hell out of him, putting that Beretta together so quickly.
He wasn’t the kind of man who thought women couldn’t do things like that. He’d worked with plenty of women in the service who were just as fierce and capable as their male counterparts. It had simply surprised him when Kennedy had done it.
He’d never seen her at the shooting range and didn’t realize she had the skills.
He was impressed.
And didn’t want to be.
Krista had always turned her nose up whenever he brought out his weapons. She’d complained that he spent money on them. It bothered her when he went to the range to practice. It never seemed to register with her that the skills he was honing kept him alive and brought him home to her every time he walked out the door.
The gun safe was one of the few things she’d left when she’d cleaned out their house.
Kennedy crossed her arms over her chest. This up close and personal it was difficult to ignore the way her breasts rounded higher, pressing against the tight confines of her shirt.
The erection he’d been sporting earlier roared back to life, pounding incessantly behind his zipper.
“The next time you call me cupcake, I’m going to shove one in your face. Fair warning. And if you think I’m going to just walk away from this and pretend everything’s okay, you have another think coming. This is my project, Asher. My job. Work with me here.”
She wasn’t going to leave this alone. He’d known Kennedy long enough to realize that when she sank her teeth into a problem, she didn’t let go until it was solved. Her single-minded determination was both frustrating and admirable.
Nothing stood in her way. In some ways, Kennedy reminded him of