Ian drew in a deep breath. It was time for him and Brooke to finally make peace. He knew that because of all that had happened between them, the love they once shared could never be recovered, but it was time he put his animosity to rest and make an attempt at being friends.
* * *
Brooke angrily stripped out of her dress. Ian Westmoreland was as stubborn as any mule could get. He refused to consider that she had been doing her job four years ago and if she had told him anything about the case, her own life could have been in jeopardy. No, all he thought about was what had happened to a man who’d been living a lie to his family, friends and business associates.
Fine, if that was the position Ian wanted to take, even after four years, let him. She refused to allow him to get on her nerves, and somehow and in some way she would wipe away the memories she found almost impossible to part with. More than anything she had to erase him from her heart. But in the meantime she planned to enjoy herself for the next two weeks and wouldn’t let him stand in the way of her doing just that.
She slipped into the two-piece bathing suit, thinking a late-night swim might make her feel better. Swimming had always relaxed her, and she was seriously considering adding a pool to her home in D.C. The question was whether or not she would have the time to enjoy it. In a few months she would have made her five-year mark with the Bureau and it was time to decide if she wanted to remain out in the field or take on administrative duties. Her good friend and mentor, Dare Westmoreland, had cautioned her about Bureau burnout, which was what had happened to him after seven years as an agent.
Brooke had just grabbed her wrap when she heard the knock at her door. Evidently room service had made a mistake and was at the wrong villa. Making her way across the room, she leaned against the door and glanced through the peephole, and suddenly felt a sensation deep in the pit of her stomach. Her late-night caller was Ian.
She tensed and shook her head. If he thought he would get in the last word he had another thought coming. After removing the security lock she angrily snatched open the door. “Look, Ian, I—”
Before she could finish, he placed a single white rose in her hand. “I come in peace, Brooke. And you’re right. It’s time to put the past behind us and move on.”
* * *
Ian’s heart slammed against his chest. He had been prepared for a lot of things, but he hadn’t been prepared for Brooke to open the door in a two-piece bathing suit with a crocheted shawl wrapped around her waist that didn’t hide much of anything.
There were her full, firm breasts that almost poured out of her bikini top and a tiny waist that flared to shapely hips attached to the most gorgeous pair of legs any woman could possess. And her feet—how could he possibly forget her sexy feet? They were bare, with brightly painted toenails, encased in a pair of cute flat leather sandals.
Her unique scent was feminine and provocative and the same one he had followed out of the lounge. It was the same scent that was filling her doorway, saturating the air surrounding him, getting under his skin. She was and had always been a woman of whom fantasies were made. And seeing her standing there was overwhelming his sense of self-control.
He sighed deeply, inwardly wishing he could focus on something other than her body and her scent. He wanted to concentrate on something like the rose he had given her, but instead his gaze lowered to her navel, which used to be one of his favorite spots on her body. He could recall all the attention he used to give it before moving lower to…
“Ian?”
He snatched his attention back to her face and cleared his throat. Damn, he had come to make peace, not make love. They would never share that type of relationship again. “Yes?”
“Thanks for the rose, and I’m glad we can move forward in our lives, and I hope that one day we can be friends again,” she said.
Brooke was watching his eyes, probably noting the caution within their dark depths when he said, “I hope so, too.”
She nodded. “Good.”
He leaned in the doorway. “You’re going out?”
“Yes, I thought I’d go for a swim at one of the pools. The one with the huge waterfall looks inviting.”
Ian nodded. It was. He had passed the area on his way here, and another thing he noted was that it was crowded with more men than women. He then remembered that the Rolling Cascade was hosting a convention of the International Association of Electricians. There were over eight hundred attendees, eighty percent of them men who probably thought they were capable of finding a woman’s hot spot and wiring her up in a minute flat. He drew his dark brows together sharply. Not with this woman.
“That pool is nice, but I know of one that’s a hundred times better,” he said, when an idea suddenly popped into his head.
“Really, where?”
“My penthouse.”
She met his eyes then, and he could imagine what thoughts were going through her mind. Hell, he was wondering about it himself. He had no right to feel possessive, as if she was still his. But just because she wasn’t didn’t mean he shouldn’t have a protective instinct where she was concerned, did it?
Feeling better about the reason he was inviting her to his suite, he reached out and took her hand in his. “Look, it was just an invitation for you to use my private pool. Besides, I’d like to catch up on how things have been going for you. But if you prefer we don’t go any further than the rose, that’s fine.”
Brooke took a second to absorb Ian’s words. He wanted them to become friends again and nothing more. He had given her a peace offering and now he wanted them to catch up on what had been going on in their lives. She doubted that he knew she asked about him often, whenever she and Dare spoke on the phone. She knew Ian was back at the top of his game, had reinstated his role of the Perfect End and now claimed he would never, ever settle down and marry. With his cousin Storm happily married, Ian much preferred being the remaining lone wolf of the Westmoreland clan.
“I’d love to go swimming in your private pool and get reacquainted,” she said, and hoped and prayed she could get through an evening alone with him in his private quarters.
The smile that touched his lips sent heat spreading through her. “Good. Are you ready to leave now?”
“Yes. I just need to grab a towel.”
“Don’t bother. I have plenty.”
“Okay, let me get my door key.”
Moments later she stepped out and closed the door behind her. As they walked together, side by side, toward a bank of elevators, she was fully aware that Ian was looking at her, but she refused to look back. If for one instant she saw heated desire in his eyes, she would probably do something really stupid like give in to the urgency of the sexual chemistry that always surrounded them and ask him to kiss her. But knowing what ironclad control Ian could have, he would probably turn her down.
* * *
“Welcome to my lair, Brooke Chamberlain.”
Ian stepped aside to let her enter, and Brooke’s breath caught the moment she stepped into the room. His personal living quarters were a floor above his office, and both were connected by a private elevator, an arrangement he found convenient.
The moment Brooke crossed the threshold it was as if she had walked into paradise. She had figured that, as the owner of the Rolling Cascade, Ian would have a nice place, but she hadn’t counted on anything this magnificent, this breathtaking.
His appreciation of nature was reflected in the many plants around the penthouse, which encompassed two floors connected by a spiral staircase.
The first things she noticed were the large windows and high ceilings, as well as the penthouse’s eclectic color scheme—a vibrant mix of red, yellow, orange, green and blue. She was surprised at how well the colors worked together. For symmetry, the two fireplaces in the room were painted white, and then topped with a hand-painted tapestry.
It appeared the furniture had been designed with comfort in mind, and several tropical-looking plants and trees gave sections of th
e room a garden effect.
“Come on, let me show you around,” he said, taking her hand in his.
The warmth of the strong hand encompassing hers sent a wave of sensation rippling through her. She tried not to think about what expert hands they were and how he used to take his thumb and trail it over her flesh, starting at her breasts and working his way downward, sometimes alternating his thumb with his tongue.
His silky touch could make her purr, squirm, and elicited all kind of sounds from her. And when he would work his way to her navel—heaven help her—total awareness of him would consume her entire body, making her breathe his name in an uncontrolled response to his intimate ministrations.
“You okay?”
His words snatched her back to reality, and she glanced up at him. “Yes, why do you ask?”
“No reason,” he murmured, and the tone sent a shiver all through her.
Brooke raised a brow. Had she given something away? Had she made a sound? One he recognized? One he remembered?
They walked together while he gave her a tour. French doors provided a gracious entry from room to room, and the kitchen, with its state-of-the-art cabinets and generously sized island, reflected a wise use of space. The skill of an interior designer touched every inch of Ian’s home, and Brooke thought this was definitely the largest penthouse she’d ever seen. It encompassed more square footage than her house back in D.C.
Ian told her that Prince Jamal Ari Yasir was his primary investor, and that his brothers, Spencer and Jared, and his cousin Thorn had also invested in the Rolling Cascade. The one thing Brooke had always admired about the Westmoreland family was their closeness and the way they supported each other.
When he showed her his bedroom a spark of envy ran through Brooke at the thought of the other women who’d shared the king-size bed with him. But then she quickly reminded herself that Ian’s love life was no business of hers.
“So, what do you think?” he asked casually.
His question momentarily froze her, and she shifted her eyes from the bed and met his gaze. “I’m really proud of you, Ian, of all your accomplishments. And you are blessed to belong to a family that fully supports what you do. They are really super.”
Ian smiled. “Yes, they are.”
“And how are your parents?”
“They’re doing fine. You do know that Storm got married?” he asked, leading her out of the bedroom, down the spiral stairscase, to an area that led to an enclosed pool.
She smiled up at him. “Yes. I can’t imagine marriage for the Perfect Storm.”
The corners of Ian lips curled in a smile. “Now he’s the Perfect Dad. His wife Jayla and their twin daughters are the best things that ever happened to him. He loves them very much.”
When there was a lull in the conversation, Brooke said, “And I heard about your uncle Corey’s triplets.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, can you believe it? He found out he had fathered triplets around the same time he was reunited with a woman who’d always been his true love. He’s married now and is a very happy man on his mountain.”
Brooke nodded. She had visited Corey’s Mountain in Montana with Ian and knew how beautiful it was. “I also heard that Chase got married and so did Durango.”
He nodded, grinning. “Yes, both were shockers. Chase and Durango married two sisters, Jessica and Savannah Claiborne. Durango and Savannah eloped and had their wedding here.”
He then looked over at her. “I see Dare’s been pretty much keeping you informed.”
She shrugged. She detected a smile in his voice, although she didn’t see one in his face. “Yes. Do you resent knowing Dare and I keep in touch?”
“No, not at all,” he said, his tone making it seem as if such a notion was ridiculous. “Dare knew you for a lot longer than I did. You used to be his deputy and the two of you were close. I didn’t expect you to end your friendship with him just because things didn’t work out between us, Brooke. The Westmorelands don’t operate that way.”
Moments later he added, “And I also know that you’ve kept in touch with other family members.” He shook his head, grinning. “Or should I say they kept up with you. Delaney let me know in no uncertain terms that our breakup had no bearing on your friendship.”
“Did she?” Brooke asked, attempting to conjure up an air of nonchalance she was far from feeling. She and Delaney had remained friends, and a few years ago when Delaney had accompanied her husband to an important international summit in Washington, the two of them had spent the day shopping, going to a movie and sharing dinner.
“Here we are.”
They stopped walking, and Brooke’s breath caught. Now this was paradise. Ian’s enclosed pool was huge, and included a cascading waterfall and several tropical plants, and was connected to his own personal fitness center and game room.
“You like it?”
“Oh, Ian, it’s wonderful, and you’re right—it’s better than the one by the villas.”
He reached behind her and handed her a couple of towels off a stack. “Here you are, and I meant to ask earlier, how’s your mom?”
Brooke smiled. “Mom’s doing fine. Marriage agrees with her. While Dad was living—even though he was incarcerated—she refused to get involved with anyone. She was intent on honoring her wedding vows, although she’d always deserved better. She refused to divorce him.”
Ian nodded. “I heard about your father. I’m sorry.”
Brooke shrugged. “He was a couple of years from being up for parole and what does he do?” she asked angrily. “He causes a prison riot that not only cost him his own life but the lives of four other inmates, as well.”
“And how are your brothers?”
“Bud and Sam are okay. Mom stays in contact with them more than their biological mother,” she said of her father’s first wife. When her mother had married Nelson Chamberlain, her brothers were already in their teens.
“I write them all the time and have taken Mom to see them on occasion. I think they’ve finally learned their lessons and will be ready for parole when the time comes,” she said.
Brooke appreciated Ian asking about her family. She had loved her dad and her brothers even though they had chosen lives of crime. And she simply adored her mother for having had the strength to leave her husband to provide her daughter with a better life.
She was about to remove her wrap when she nervously glanced over at Ian. “Will you be taking a swim, too?”
He smiled, shaking his head. “No, not tonight. The pool will be all yours. There are a couple of calls I need to make, so I’m going to leave you alone for a while. Do you mind?”
“No, and I appreciate you letting me use your pool.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“And I enjoyed our chat, Ian.”
“So did I.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ll be back in around an hour to walk you to your villa.”
“All right.”
After Ian left, Brooke licked her suddenly dry lips, remembering how quickly he had exited the room. Was she imagining things? Had the thought of her undressing in front of him—doing something as insignificant as removing the wrap of her bathing suit—sent Ian running? Um. Maybe that ironclad control he used to have wasn’t as strong as she’d thought.
The possibility that the attraction they’d once shared was just as deep as before sent a warm feeling flowing through her. And suddenly feeling giddy, she removed her wrap, walked over to the deep end of the pool and dived in.
* * *
Ian’s hand trembled as he poured wine into his glass. Talk about needing a drink. It had taken everything within him not to pull Brooke into his arms several times during their conversation. And even worse, he had picked up on that vibe, the same one she always emitted whenever she wanted him to make love to her.
It had been awkward to stand beside her and know what her body wanted and not oblige her the way he would have done in the past. Angrily he slammed down the glass on his coffee ta
ble. This is not the past, this is the present and don’t even think about going back there, Westmoreland. The only thing you and Brooke can ever be is friends, and even that is really pushing it.
He muttered a curse, and at the same time the phone rang. It was his private line. “Yes?”
“Hey, you’re okay?”
Hearing his cousin Storm’s voice, Ian shook his head and smiled. It had always been the weirdest thing. His brother Quade was his fraternal twin like Chase was Storm’s. But when it came to that special bond he’d heard that twins shared, it had always been he and Storm and Quade and Chase.
Quade worked for the Secret Service, and half the time none of the family knew what he doing or where he was. But they could depend on Chase to know if Quade was ever in trouble with that special link they shared. Likewise, Ian knew that only Storm could detect when something was bothering him, even thousands of miles away.
“And what makes you think something is wrong?” Ian asked, sitting down on a leather sofa. This spot gave him a view of Brooke whenever she swam in the shallow end of his pool.
Storm chuckled. “Hey, I feel you, man. The one night I should be getting a good night’s sleep, now that the girls are sleeping through the night, I’m worried about you.”
Ian lifted a brow. “Worried about me?”
“Yes. What’s going on, Ian? What has you so uptight that I can sense it?”
Ian’s attention was momentarily pulled away from his phone conversation when Brooke swam to the shallow end of the pool. He shifted slightly on the sofa to get a better view and knew from where he sat that he could see her but she couldn’t see him.
Ian's Ultimate Gamble ; Seduction, Westmoreland Style Page 3
