Page 6 of Driving Him Wild

I shrugged. ‘It does appear a few...liberties were assumed about your hiring.’

His lips firmed, but he didn’t reply.

‘So, what will it take for you to stay?’

Something glinted in his eyes. Something that tugged at a vicious need inside me. Then he shook his head. ‘Nothing. I would never have signed up for this.’

I swallowed a swell of irritation. ‘Seriously? You’re that opposed to what I’m doing?’

‘Not what you’re doing. Just the way you’re going about it.’

Patience. Don’t lose your shit on him.

‘There are sixteen-wheelers trundling along the highways of this state every hour of every day of

the year so deeper mines can be excavated and more oil can be drilled. Amongst other things. And

you have a problem with a twenty-four-hour shoot over a small area to bring more awareness to a

growing problem? A shoot that you’ve delayed by turning up late, I might add.’

He shrugged, his lips twitching as if he wanted to smile before he grew serious. ‘I have a problem

with those trucks too. And the mining and drilling, if that makes you feel better.’

‘Let’s talk hypothetically. Or better... I’ll give you one minute to pitch me your version of how this would go if you were in charge.’

Perhaps it was a trick of the light. Perhaps I was imagining it. Or perhaps that lance of searing

awareness that tunnelled through me was really a result of that look I’d caught on his face. The look that tugged at that desperate need again. The one that said were I to put him on his knees, Jensen Scott wouldn’t mind. That perhaps he would even...welcome it?

My heart leapt, even as I tried to throttle down its wild sprint. What if my instinct was wrong? It wouldn’t be the first time I’d misjudged a potential suitor. Wouldn’t be the first time I’d

wholeheartedly trusted my instinct only to end up with ashes.

Still... I stared at him. Watched his face tighten with rejection. But not before I caught a look that treacherously resembled...longing.

Perhaps longing he resented me for?

He turned away, breaking eye contact to lean down to pet the nearest husky. ‘I’d pick one person to be the face of your campaign. Find a way to feature everyone else in another capacity. Your cause

might mean something to every one of your crew, but they don’t all need to be here to make it count.

One person can represent a million.’

For some reason his sound argument made my mouth dry, my heart beat just a touch faster. ‘And

who would you pick—again, if you were in charge?’

This time I saw a tangible reaction to my deliberate choice of words. His jaw clenched, his

nostrils thinning. ‘You want to make an impact. Pick the person who has the biggest voice.’ He stared at me in that direct and pointed way that left me in no doubtwhohe meant.

‘Me.’

He shrugged. ‘You decide.’ Glacial eyes met mine. ‘I’m not in charge.’You are.

It was a silent gauntlet thrown at my feet. A brief relinquishing of his control as his eyes

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