Page 20 of Driving Him Wild

of hell and back but had somehow managed to rise above, didn’t hold as much interest for me as this man did.

You should’ve paid more attention, because they both seem to have found answers to love and

acceptance that you haven’t.

I pushed the thought away, my gaze lingering on Jensen as he petted his dogs, his back turned

decidedly on me.

Why was I pursuing this? Why was the urge to needle and probe sliding like a narcotic through my

blood? Something about the man had captivated me from the first, evenbesidesthe strong possibility that he was a sub. While I’d had my own versions ofnoin the past—my parents delivering the most gut-wrenching one of all—I wasn’t sure why this particular reluctance from him made me even more

determined.

Determined to do what, precisely?

Exactly how did I expect this to go? I was emotionally bankrupt, according to myriad blood

relatives, past lovers and strangers. I had nothing valuable to give, save my money, of course. After years of tossing those opinions away like so much chaff, I had finally been forced by my innate

stubbornness to admit that perhaps they—and my mother—were right.

Every relationship was doomed to failure. Hell, even my brothers were avoiding me, my bitterness

and emotional inadequacy making them run for the hills rather than spend time with me.

I couldn’t even blame them any more. And it certainly didn’t help that I was the spitting image of

my mother. The mother who’d callously abandoned us decades ago and never looked back.

The urge to grab the satellite phone, summon my helicopter and get the hell off this barren

landscape pulled at me.

I reached for the phone just as Jensen rose and pivoted towards me. Thoughts of leaving

evaporated. Something about this man captivated me, made me want to dig deeper beneath the thick

layer of concrete he wasn’t shy about putting up.

I would’ve admired his resolve, if he hadn’t ignored me for the better part of an hour and a half.

We’d arrived at his chosen site twenty minutes ago and set up camp on a flat landscape with

nothing but snow for miles around. Being born into wealth and spending most waking minutes in the

lap of luxury where every whim was catered to had inevitably cultivated healthy jadedness about

most things well before I hit my twenties.

But looking around now, I couldn’t help but be overawed by the stunning beauty around me. And as

much as I wanted to dismiss it, Jensen was a big part of that draw.

I’d perused his portfolio on the plane ride to Alaska. He was unapologetically talented at his job

and had no modesty or pretensions about it. Sure, it grated that he was pretending I didn’t exist at the moment. I would’ve been amused had it not been for the wicked little thrill that tunnelled inside me every time he glanced my way. It pleased me that he was fighting this connection between us. And

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