Although brighter, it was less authentic. She lifted her chin just a fraction higher, her back stiffening. For a moment, Key wished he could retract his words.
Although she was of average height, the top of her head reached him midchest and, in order for her to make eye contact with him, she had to take a step back as well as lift her chin. The fact that he was trying to convince himself that that was the reason for her stepping back from him, he ignored.
“Such a hard-ass,” she mumbled, but he caught the words.
“Excuse me?” Key asked, shock warring with genuine humor.
Her eyes flew to his and she covered her mouth, her eyes wide. “You, uh, heard that?” she asked.
“Yeah. But it’s okay. I’ve been called worse,” he replied, shrugging a shoulder.
“I’ll bet you have,” she returned, and he caught the red flush stain her creamy brown cheeks.
“Oh, God, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“It’s okay. Like I said, I’ve been called much, much worse,” he replied, cutting into her apology.
When she grinned again, it threw him off guard and he felt himself responding to her gamine expression.
She had a smile on her face that reminded him of Nick. Although he and Nick were identical on the outside, when it came to women they were as different as night and day, with Nick playing the role of playboy rancher to the hilt. Her smile was about as sincere as his twin’s avowals of devotion to any one of his girlfriends.
In other words, bogus.
Even as her snappy answers and overall sassy attitude aggravated him, Key couldn’t deny the effect her curvy body and cute ass had on him. His eyes fell to her full lips. The bottom curve poked out just a hint, giving her a natural pouty expression, one that played hell on his libido, wondering what it would taste like.
He’d thought about it, tasting that full, luscious lip of hers, drawing it into his mouth to suckle and kiss.
Each time he did, he remembered that she was only in his life for a while. She, like all the rest, would be gone once her season was over.
He’d do well to remember that. It was only physical, his reaction to her. Once she and her crew had left the island, his life and his libido would return to normal.
He drew in a breath, remembering what he had recently discovered.
Did she have information about what he’d discovered somehow? Had she or someone in her camp found out that he and Nick were the sons of Jedediah Clint Wilde, whose adoptive sons were the legal owners of the Wilde Ranch, one of the most profitable family-owned-and-operated ranches in the United States? Was that the reason she’d approached his brother about extending the season?
The idea had plagued him since he and his brother had spoken days ago and Nick had casually informed him about the request to continue the show. Even before he could continue, Key had already begun shaking his head.
“Not only no, but hell no,” he’d said, his jaw tightening. “Look, you know the only reason we agreed to do this was to honor Mom’s last request. Well, we’ve done that. We’ve helped raise awareness and with that Mom’s foundation for the preservation of Hawaii has tripled in donations. As for the rest...the attention from the show, attention I sure as hell am damn sick of—”
“Well, I’m not,” his brother had cut in. His arms were crossed as he leaned against the kitchen table, one big booted foot crossed over the other, a half grin on his face as he observed his brother’s rising anger, no doubt enjoying the hell out it while calmly munching on an apple.
“It is done. Finished. With the foundation having a higher profile, donations will continue. I’ve been the good son,” he’d said, turning away from Nick.
He knew that his brother was in tune with him, more than anyone. And keeping his thoughts and emotions hidden from Nick for too long was damn hard to do.
But Key had to do exactly that, at least until he figured out how...when he’d share what he’d learned about who they were with his brother.
The role his father had had in the deception was not far from his mind, either. Hell, he didn’t have a clue how he’d approach Alek Kealoha, the only man he or his brother had ever called Father.
For now, regarding their parents’ dishonesty, he would hold his tongue, as well as his emotions, firmly in check.
He’d turned to face Nick.
“Look, Kaikaina,” he’d begun, not realizing that in his distress he’d called his brother by his Hawaiian nickname. “The only reason I agreed to this invasion of our home in the first place was because of Mom and the foundation. Now that we’ve accomplished that goal, there’s no way in hell I’m going to agree to a second season. One was pushing it. But it was for Mom, so...” He shrugged and paused, ran a hand through his hair and allowed the sentence to dangle.
Even through his anger, his feelings of betrayal, he loved his mother, as did his brother. And, even knowing what he now did, he would have still allowed the crews to film because the foundation had meant everything to her.
“This was for Mom, yeah, man, I get that. Dad and I agreed with you, remember? I’m not the bad guy here.”
“Hell, Nick, I never said or thought you were. You’re my brother. You’re family. And family comes first,” he’d said.
There’d been a pause, as both men grew serious.
“Yeah, I get that. I also get that you don’t want them here—”
“But you and Dad do. So for that reason, I’m cool with it, bro.”
There was another small silence before Nick broke in, his voice gruff. “Mom would have wanted it. I know you could have persuaded Dad that you were against it. But I think it’s a good idea, Key.”
“Hell. I guess,” Key had replied as he’d glanced away from his brother. When Nick shoved away from the doorway and clapped his brother on the back he turned back to face him.
“Dad, yes...but you know damn well a part of the reason you want this is for the women. Damn player,” Key said, a small grin on his face.
“Well, what can I say, big brother...gotta give ’em what they want,” he said, and flexed large biceps.
“Man...whatever,” Key responded before he shoved his brother away, and both men laughed.
“And if some high-society producer thinks she can go around me and get the answer she wants, she has another damn think coming. Discussion over,” he’d replied firmly, humor evaporating as the image of Sonia came back to his mind, his thoughts.
His jaws tightened.
“Somebody’s got his shorts in a knot over said high-society producer, I see,” had been his twin’s laughing retort.
To which he’d given him the anticipated single-finger salute answer. Looking at his brother was like looking at a mirror image of himself. So, when his brother lifted one brow and laughed,
