Under Pressure by Kira Sinclair Read Free Book Online Page B

strategist. She wasn’t so bad herself.
    Glancing down, she sauntered closer, tipped her lips into a sultry smile and then looked up at Neil through her lashes.
    “Neil, do you like your job?”
    The man was young, probably only a couple of years older than she was. A junior member of the team. Someone she’d immediately picked out as a weak link.
    “Yes.”
    “Well, so do I. We have a problem. I’m trying to fix it. But in order to do that, I need to borrow your camera.”
    “It’s an expensive piece of equipment, Kennedy. If I give it to you and something happens, I’m responsible for it.”
    “No, you’re not. First, I won’t let anything happen. Second, if something does, I’ll accept responsibility, and Trident will cover the cost of the camera.”
    Neil swallowed hard. “Okay.”
    She gathered the equipment she needed, grateful for the semester she’d worked as an intern at the local TV station.
    The camera was only a foot or so in length and light enough to be handheld, with a large fuzzy mic protruding out the far end. It was portable, although she set it up on a tripod in the corner of her room. She needed the camera running but didn’t have enough hands to operate it.
    The rest of the time she spent with her fingers flying over the keyboard of her laptop as she took a crash course in everything she could find on stuttering.
    They had a problem; she was going to solve it. Because this project could not get delayed. Not when Seattle was the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.
    A little over an hour later, she had a plan of action. Distraction seemed to be a key component for stuttering therapy. Stutterers often found that their issue became a self-fulfilling prophecy. High-pressure situations made them worry about stuttering, which often led to an increased occurrence of the stutter. Based on what Asher had told her, that sounded exactly like what he was experiencing.
    She was fiddling with the camera, making sure all the wires were connected correctly, when a voice sounded behind her.
    “What’s all that?”
    Kennedy let out a startled squeak and jumped, spinning to find Asher standing next to her bed. She hadn’t even heard him come in.
    “A camera.”
    He’d left the clothes on as she’d instructed, and she was struck again by just how amazing he looked.
    “I can see that. Why?”
    Shoving his hands into the pockets of his slacks, he rocked back on his heels.
    “We’re going to put you in front of it and see if we can figure out something that’ll help you get through the next couple weeks.”
    Kennedy turned away, continuing to fiddle as she spoke to him over her shoulder. “I thought a session with just me and the camera might help you feel more comfortable tomorrow, take away some of the stress so you’re less likely to stutter.”
    Satisfied everything was working, she turned back to Asher and stopped dead in her tracks.
    With nowhere else to sit, he’d chosen her bed. But he hadn’t been content with perching on the edge. Nope. At some point he’d toed off his shoes and sprawled out, making himself completely at home. Propped up on one elbow, there was something wicked and unapologetic about the way he gazed at her like a lover waiting patiently for her to rejoin him in bliss.
    Kennedy cleared her throat.
    His arm bulged against the rolled shirt cuff. The fabric gaped against the tanned skin of his chest, giving her a little glimpse of his muscled pecs beneath the starched cotton.
    Nope. She wasn’t going there. Forcing her gaze away, she grumbled, “Sit up,” smacking at his leg to make her point.
    Moving back behind the camera, she focused it. Asher in all his masculine, larger-than-life, charismatic glory filled the small screen in front of her face.
    She hit Record, watching as a red light blinked several times before going solid.
    Not only had Asher ignored her direction, he’d rolled over on to his back and was staring at the ceiling.
    Kennedy opened her mouth to