Hot Westmoreland Nights

by Brenda Jackson

  He could and would do so if it meant keeping her mind occupied while he continued to check her out. “We discovered over a year ago that our great-grandfather Raphael had a twin by the name of Reginald.”

  “And none of you had any idea?”

  “No. Great-Grampa Raphael led everyone to believe he’d been born the only child. One of the Atlanta Westmorelands’ genealogy search provided proof that Raphael and Reginald were twins and that Raphael had been considered the black sheep of the family after running off with a married woman. He finally settled here in Denver five wives later.”

  Ramsey paused when he felt a rush of sensations hammer his veins when Chloe shifted her body on the sofa once again and his gaze moved to her feet. They were bare and her toes were painted a prissy pink. When had seeing painted toes on a woman become so erotic?

  He found it an effort to move his gaze from her feet back to her face, especially when his eyes had to pass over her chest. Of course it lingered awhile before moving on. When he finally settled on her eyes he saw hers were narrowed. “I’m sure there is more to this story,” she said.

  He nodded. “Of course and maybe one day I’ll tell you the rest.”

  He had no idea why he’d said that. There wouldn’t be a “one day” where they were concerned. Although he had changed his mind about calling the agency for another cook, he needed to keep his guard up around her. Yet here he was, misleading her into thinking he would share anything else about his family with her.

  He eased out of his chair, deciding he’d said enough and had stayed in here with her longer than he’d needed to. Definitely longer than he should have. It then occurred to him he was still wearing his hat. Damn.

  He took it off his head thinking the woman had a way of making him not think straight and that wasn’t a good thing. “I’m taking a shower and going out to grab something for dinner,” he said, and then wondered why on earth was he telling her his plans. His comings and goings were really none of her business.

  He moved to leave the room and head upstairs, but her words stopped him. “I prepared dinner for you, Ramsey.”

  He stopped, turned and looked over at her. She was only getting paid to fix breakfast and lunch because his men usually ate dinner at their own homes with their families. Usually he dined at Penney’s Diner a few miles down the road or with one of his family members.

  “You didn’t have to do that, Chloe.”

  “I know, but I wanted to because I need to eat, too,” she replied, as if that explained things.

  “Suit yourself,” he said, knowing he sounded totally nonchalant and ungrateful when he was anything but. After spending practically her entire day in the kitchen preparing breakfast and lunch for his men, she had gone out of her way to prepare him dinner when she really didn’t have to do it.

  He turned in the direction of the kitchen and when he got to the edge of the room, he paused and then turned back around. She was staring into space as if she was trying to figure out in her own mind what had happened next with Raphael Westmoreland. She had moved from her earlier pose and was now curled up in the corner of his sofa, and every so often after taking a sip of wine her tongue would dart out to lick her top lip as if savoring the taste. Ramsey felt his body tighten with desire as he watched her.

  “Chloe?”

  She looked over at him and he could tell from her expression she was surprised to see him still standing there. “Yes?”

  “Thanks for dinner.” He then turned and kept walking toward the kitchen.

  Hours later with his jaw clamped together tight, Ramsey walked the floor in his bedroom. This would be another night where he would not be getting any sleep and there was no excuse for it, and he needed his rest. The next two weeks of shearing would be both mind- and body-consuming if today was an example of what was to come.

  At least his men had been excited about breakfast and lunch and had kept a steady conversation about both most of the day. Chloe’s choice of food was a big hit and at quitting time today the men had been speculating on what they would be getting tomorrow for breakfast. Chloe was a definite asset to his ranch.

  Ramsey moved over to the window to look out, not liking what he was thinking. She had done it again, he thought in disgust. The dinner she’d prepared for him had been the best he’d ever eaten, so much in fact that he’d been tempted to lick the plate. He had sat in the kitchen alone, not bothering to eat at the table, but had taken a stool at the breakfast bar instead.

  Consuming his meal in silence he had been well aware of the moment she had come into the kitchen to wash out her wine glass. Mumbling a good-night, she had quickly left to head up the stairs. He had watched her go. Neither of them had mentioned anything about the kiss they’d shared earlier that day, and that was fine with him because his brothers and cousin had said enough. Not surprisingly, word of the kiss had reached Dillon and Callum. At least none of his sisters knew about it. Had they been privy to such information, they would have called by now, or even worse, just showed up to introduce themselves.

  Hold up. Time out. He wasn’t ready for something like that to happen, especially if his sisters assumed the wrong thing like Zane, Derringer and Jason had. But knowing Megan, Gemma and Bailey like he did, there was no doubt in his mind that they would have taken things further by trying to intentionally stir interest even if there wasn’t any there.

  At least he could safely say from his conversation with Chloe earlier that she was not a woman on the run as Callum had speculated. Other than what she’d told him about her ex-boyfriend, he still hadn’t gotten her to talk a lot about herself, although she was trying to get all in his business about good old Raphael.

  He shook his head. Other than knowing she was a damn good cook, she’d had an idiot of an ex-boyfriend, and that she had a friend who was getting married, he didn’t know a lot about her. But then maybe the less he knew the better. She was doing a good job at what she had been hired to do.

  Although he was losing sleep in the process.

  But then, his inability to sleep and walking the floors at night was not her problem. He had to be the one who garnered more control. He had to stop the flow of sexual tension between them. But how? Imagining her with a sack over her head whenever he saw her wouldn’t work because he would still be able to see her body. And there was no way he could look at all those curves without a degree of lust filling his head.

  Sighing deeply, he made his way back to the bed. It was close to one in the morning and if he had to lie in bed, stare at the ceiling and count sheep to get to sleep, then so be it. Hell, sheep were his life anyway.

  Chloe sat up in bed and clicked on her cell phone to answer it. She smiled when she saw the call was from her dad. “Okay, Pop, it’s close to one in the morning here, which means it’s later than that on the east coast, so this better be good.”

  Senator Burton’s hearty laugh came in through the phone. “It is. I have Stephanie here with me. I asked her to marry me and she accepted and we just wanted our kids to know.”

  Tears she couldn’t hold back came into Chloe’s eyes. Her father sounded happy and if anyone deserved happiness it was him. She swiped at her tears and said, “I’m happy for you and Stephanie, Dad. Congratulations. Have the two of you told Brian and Danita yet?”

  Brian and Danita were Stephanie’s son and daughter. Brian was twenty-six and in his last year of medical school at the University of Florida. Danita was twenty-one and attending Xavier University of Louisiana. She, Brian and Danita got along marvelously and had been more than ready for their parents to take things to the next level. There was no doubt in Chloe’s mind they would be as happy for their mother as she was for her dad.

  “Not yet,” her father said, interrupting her thoughts. “We thought we would call our oldest child first.”

  She smiled. Already he was thinking of them in terms of a family. “Okay, and I hate that I’m not there to celebrate, but when I return to Florida we’re going to all get together.”r />
  “And when will you be returning to Florida?”

  Chloe nibbled her bottom lip. That was a good question. “Not for at least another two weeks,” she said with certainty. Ramsey’s regular cook should have returned by then, and hopefully she would have come clean and told him the truth. She was hoping that once she made it clear he owed her, that he would do the cover and the article, grudgingly or otherwise.

  “Okay, sweetheart. Stephanie wants to talk to you.”

  It was at least twenty minutes later before Chloe ended the call with the woman who would become her stepmother. They talked about plans for the wedding but only briefly because Danita’s input would be needed on any major decisions.

  She cuddled in bed wishing her own personal life could be as happy and exciting as her dad’s. She took a long breath wondering where that yearning had come from. Probably with her dad’s calling and then recalling her earlier conversation this evening with Ramsey about matrimony had stirred something within her, and it was something she hadn’t thought about in a long time. It was her own desire to one day settle down, marry and have children. When things had ended with her and Daren, she hadn’t given up on that dream. And although such a thing was not in her immediate plans, she still had that desire tucked away somewhere. What woman didn’t? Even with her determination to be successful with her magazine company, she believed once that was achieved, she would find her Mr. Right. And one thing was for certain he definitely wouldn’t be some surly sheep rancher.

  But then if that was the case…and she was most certain that it was, why did she go to bed thinking about him every night? And why was the last thing she saw before closing her eyes his intense, penetrating dark eyes staring at her like they could see right through to her soul.

  She closed her eyes. Like now. There he was, in vivid color, as he had been that evening, sitting across from her on the sofa with his legs stretched out in front of him, with his Stetson still on his head and looking sexier than any man had a right to look. So much in fact that more than once she had been tempted to get up off the sofa and go to him and curl up in his lap and purr.

  She slowly opened her eyes, grateful she hadn’t done such a thing. She really should thank him for keeping her agitated during most of the conversation, which stopped her from making a complete fool of herself. But if the truth be told, telling her about his great-grandfather had helped to refocus her attention. She knew there was more to the story and wondered why this was her first time hearing it. If such a thing hadn’t come up on one of her computer’s search engines that meant it hadn’t made the news. Hmm. It was definitely something she would like to share with her readers, which might prompt them to want to start looking into their own family tree.

  She shifted in bed thinking she was determined to get the whole story from Ramsey. If not Ramsey, then one of his brothers or cousins would do. Before leaving today Zane Westmoreland had tipped his hat at her, given her a flirty smile and a promise that he would be showing up for breakfast in the morning.

  She shook her head. The only Westmoreland she wanted to concentrate on at the moment was the one who was probably sleeping peacefully in the bed only a few doors down the hall.

  Six

  “Good morning.”

  Ramsey glanced up from reading the morning’s newspaper to stare into Chloe’s face and immediately wished he hadn’t. Her dark eyes looked slumberous and sensuously drowsy. A part of him was tempted to suggest that she forget about preparing breakfast for his men and go back to bed…but only if she would take him with her.

  The muscles in his neck tightened at the very thought and he forced out his response. “Morning.”

  She sniffed the air. “Great, you’ve made coffee!”

  He watched as she quickly headed toward the coffeepot. Today she was wearing another cute short dress with a pair of leggings underneath. He frowned. Did she have a pair of those things for every day of the week? And a different color for every day?

  He took a sip of his coffee and watched as she poured hers, adding cream and sugar into the mix before leaning against the counter and taking what looked like a much-needed sip.

  “Excellent,” she said.

  “Thanks.” Was she smiling? And if she was, then what the heck for? Could a cup of coffee first thing in the morning do that to her? As far as he could recall she’d been barely speaking to him when they’d parted yesterday afternoon. And why did knowing he’d contributed to putting that smile on her face send a good feeling vibrating through him? Damn.

  He gazed back down at his newspaper. To be honest, he was hoping that he would have been in and out of the kitchen this morning before she’d gotten up. He was determined more so than ever to put distance between them. Maybe then he’d be able to get a good night’s sleep.

  “I’m doing omelets this morning. Would you like to go ahead and place your order?”

  He glanced over at her. She was opening cabinets pulling out bowls, pots and pans. Had she said omelets? The last time he’d eaten an omelet was when he’d gone on a business trip and stayed at a hotel. It had been delicious.

  “Yes, please,” he said, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice. “I’d like that.”

  “How would you like it?”

  He fought back the urge not to say the first thing that came into his mind, which would have given away his lusty thoughts. Hell, it was too early to think about that kind of stuff. But then, early morning sex wasn’t so bad. And he had a feeling she would be able to cook in the bedroom with just as much heat as she used in the kitchen.

  It took him only a few minutes to fill her in on the ingredients he wanted in his omelet. She nodded and went right to work. He watched her as she added the onions, green peppers, tomatoes…

  Ramsey’s mouth began watering. For both the omelet and for her. Moving around the kitchen, she was a sight to see. And he felt the lower part of his body getting there. The huge bulge behind his zipper wasn’t a joke.

  “What about a glass of orange juice?”

  He blinked, realized he’d been staring. “Thanks. That will work.”

  At the moment he couldn’t think of many things that wouldn’t work, especially if she were to place her hands on it. Shivers went through him when he thought of places she could place her hands…on him.

  She crossed the room and placed the plate on the table, right in front of him, and a glass of OJ beside his plate. “Thanks.”

  She smiled. “No problem.”

  He began eating while thinking it might not be a problem for her, but it was definitely becoming one for him. He didn’t look up when she refilled his cup of coffee. “Thanks.”

  “Sure.”

  He took his time to savor the meal which deserved all the savoring it could get. The omelet was simply delicious. He liked glancing up every once in a while to watch as she fried bacon and cooked sausage. In no time at all the smell of breakfast was all over his kitchen.

  And he noted she had come out of her shoes. She had kicked them in a corner and was gliding around the kitchen in her bare feet. He smiled as he glanced down at her toes again and felt his breathing come out slow and easy.

  They hadn’t said a word over the past thirty minutes. He was satisfied in letting her do her thing, and evidently she had no problem in letting him eat in peace while he finished reading the newspaper.

  With the newspaper read and his plate clean, he decided to strike up a conversation. There were some things about her that he needed to know. “Do you have any family around these parts, Chloe?”

  Chloe kept her attention trained on what she was doing, refusing to let the sound of Ramsey’s deep, throaty voice wreak havoc on her mind. It was bad enough she could inhale his masculine scent over that of the bacon frying. That might sound like a lot of bull to some, but she was convinced it was true, which was the reason her nipples felt so sensitive. Bacon would not have caused that effect.

  “No. I don’t have family around these parts,” she sai
d, wondering why he’d asked.

  “So you relocated here?”

  “Yes.”

  “Without knowing anyone?”

  She wondered how she could answer that without telling an outright lie. “Not exactly. I have a girlfriend from college who lives here and decided to give this area a try.”

  He nodded. “So you’re living with your girlfriend?”

  Her answer to that would not be a lie. “Yes, when I’m not staying here as your cook.”

  He pushed his plate aside and leaned back in his chair. “So where are you from?”

  She forced a smile as she glanced over at him. “Where do you think I’m from?”

  “Somewhere in the South.”

  “Yes, I’m from Florida, more specifically Tampa.”

  Deciding she had answered enough questions, Chloe resolved it was her turn to ask a few. “So, what happened with Raphael and his five wives? I didn’t think a divorce was that easy back in the day.”

  Ramsey shrugged. “During our research we discovered the first woman he ran off with was a preacher’s wife. He couldn’t marry her because she was already married.”

  Chloe lifted a brow. “Then why did he run off with her?”

  “To save her from an abusive marriage. And before you ask, the second wife he took off her husband’s hands, with her husband’s blessing, to save a possible scandal.”

  Ramsey decided that was all he would tell her for now. It was just enough to keep her curious. Why he was baiting her he really wasn’t sure. Maybe the reason was that he liked seeing the look of interest in her eyes.

  He stood and carried his plate, coffee cup and glass over to the sink.

  “You don’t have to do that,” she said.

  “Yes, I do. I was raised to clean up after myself.”

  And just like yesterday, when he reached the sink she deliberately moved out of his way. Knowing she was trying to avoid his touch bothered him. He reached out and grabbed hold of her hand. She glanced over at him, startled.