Brenda Jackson The Westmoreland Series Books 16-20

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Brenda Jackson The Westmoreland Series Books 16-20 Page 17

by Brenda Jackson


  Yes, here she was, and although he wished otherwise, ideas continued to pop up in his head, literally pound his brain, regarding all the things he’d like to do to her. Even now he wished like hell he could ignore the ache that was stirring in the lower part of his body, as well as the heavy thudding doing havoc to his chest. But he couldn’t.

  She stared at him and he stared back at her as his insides began filling with lust of the thickest kind. He should have followed his mind earlier and contacted the employment agency to see if they could send in a replacement by morning, but he had failed to do so mainly because deep down he really hadn’t wanted to. He grudgingly admitted that he had been looking forward to seeing her in the morning. But she was here now and he wasn’t quite sure just how to handle her unexpected arrival.

  He watched as she raised her brows. “So are you going to let me in or do I get to stand out here all night?”

  At that moment he couldn’t help but quirk his lips in a smile. She was almost as bad as Bailey with her sassy mouth. A mouth that at that moment snagged his gaze. Breath slammed through his lungs when she took that time to moisten her lower lip with the tip of her tongue.

  He fought the heat flaring in his midsection. “Yes, I’m going to let you in,” he said, reaching out and taking the luggage out of her hand and stepping back and moving aside.

  “I appreciate it,” she responded, stepping over the threshold.

  When she walked past him every cell in Ramsey’s body began throbbing as he took in her scent. Whatever perfume she was wearing was lethal and could wrap a man up in all kinds of sensuous thoughts.

  She glanced over at him. “So where’s my room?”

  He gave her a tight smile. “Upstairs. Please follow me.” A part of him wished he was leading her to his bedroom instead of the guest room. Damn, he needed another beer.

  They walked up the stairs and when they reached the landing they walked down the hall. “Nice place.”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “I’m sure you’ve seen it before.”

  She arched her brow. “No, I haven’t. Earlier today when you left your door wide open, I had no reason to snoop around up here. My job was in the kitchen area and no other part of your house.”

  He wondered if she could be believed, and when he glanced over his shoulder again he couldn’t help but note how she was checking out several of the bedrooms they passed. Maybe she hadn’t come snooping after all. He had five guest rooms all with their own private baths. At twenty-three, Gemma was the interior designer in the family. She had been more than happy to spend his money to lavishly decorate each of his bedrooms. And she was dying to get started on the rooms downstairs once he gave her the go-ahead. That wouldn’t be for a while. He was still recovering from having her underfoot when she’d done the upstairs.

  “Sorry, my mistake,” he apologized by saying.

  When they reached the bedroom that she would be using, he stood back to let her enter. He could tell from her expression that he had made a wise choice. She liked it, which meant she was a frilly, lacy and soft colors kind of girl. While she was standing in the middle of the room, scanning the room in awe, he placed her luggage on the bed.

  His first inclination was to bid her good-night and leave her standing right there, but something about the expression on her face stopped him. She actually seemed absorbed. He somehow understood. Gemma’s interior design work could do that to you. He would be one of the first to admit that his sister was good. The money used to send her to college had been well spent.

  He doubted there was ever a time Gemma hadn’t wanted to be an interior designer. He could vividly recall how she had made curtains for his first car—a bright red Chevy—when she was eight. To not hurt her feelings he had mounted the things in the car’s rear window hoping that none of his friends saw them.

  “Whoever decorated this part of your home did a fantastic job,” Chloe said, as her gaze returned to Ramsey.

  Chloe noted that he was looking at her again, with the same intensity that he’d looked at her earlier that day. And as she stared back his gaze never wavered, it held hers deep within its scope. Without words, with barely a breath, something was taking place between them. She wished she could dismiss her theory and believe she was just imagining things, but there was no make-believe with the heat consuming her body. Her breasts suddenly felt swollen and her nipples seemed tender against the fabric of her dress.

  Her gaze moved from his face and scanned his body downward and was glad to see she was not the only one affected by the moment. He was aroused. Fully. There was no way he could hide it and he wasn’t trying to. Her gaze shifted back to his face and what she saw in the depths of his eyes almost took her breath away. There were promises of hot, lusty nights, more pleasure than she could probably stand, kisses that would start at her mouth and end between her thighs and an explosion that would shatter every single thing within her. She paused for breath at the thought that those were real promises she saw in his gaze and not a figment of her imagination.

  Then she also saw something else in the depths of his eyes beside those promises. She saw a warning. If she couldn’t stand the heat, then she needed to stay out of the kitchen. At that moment she pulled in a wary breath. Was Ramsey Westmoreland the one man she could not handle?

  “I’ll leave you alone to unpack,” he finally said, breaking the intense sexual tension that surrounded them. “You have your own bathroom, which I believe you’ll find more than sufficient.”

  She nodded. Her ability to speak had escaped her.

  “Good night, Chloe. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  She could only stand and stare after him as he left the room.

  * * *

  There was no doubt about it. He had to get her out of his house, Ramsey thought, as he paced his bedroom hours later. What had happened in the guest room tonight was uncalled for, but still pretty much unclear. He had come within seconds of crossing that room, bending his head and taking her mouth with his to satisfy the hunger he felt. The hunger he was still feeling. The thought of his tongue mingling with hers while he held her tight against the heat of his chest caused the hot stab of arousal to nearly knock him to his knees.

  And where on earth had such passion come from? It had nearly taken over him, transformed his brains into mush and had filled his mind with naughty thoughts of all the things he wanted to do to her. He pulled in a deep breath deciding he needed to analyze the situation. He needed to determine just how they had come to this point.

  He would be the first to admit there had been a strong sexual attraction from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her. A rush of hot blood had shot through his veins, had hammered away at his insides, and an awareness as profound as anything he’d ever encountered before had zinged through him with the force of a volcano erupting. Every nerve, every bone and every muscle in his body had been affected.

  And things hadn’t gotten any better during the lunch hour when he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off her just as Callum had claimed. And he had a feeling that the reason Eric and Thel had probably backed off hadn’t been because of any feeling of defeat where she was concerned. They had retreated because they’d picked up on his interest. If Callum had noticed his staring at her, then there was a strong possibility others had as well. And because doing such a thing was so unlike him, they probably figured he was being territorial. Had he been?

  He rubbed his hands down his face as he uttered a frustrated curse. She was probably in her bed, sleeping peacefully between the sheets, while he was the one walking the floor with an erection that was keeping him awake. He seriously considered going into her room, getting her up and asking her to leave. How crazy was that? To even contemplate doing such a thing showed just how close to the edge he was.

  Of his four brothers he was the one who could generally take a woman or leave her just where she stood. His love ’em and leave ’em attitude unnerved his siblings who thought he spent more time sleeping with hi
s sheep than with women. Considering the time he’d done duty as a sheepherder over the past year, that accusation was not a lie. But it really wasn’t any of their business. And he had been quick to point out—especially to his brothers and male cousins—that they were spending enough time chasing women without him, boosting profits for the condom industries and making it quite obvious they were men on the prowl the majority of the time. He cringed at the reputations some of them had.

  And he had been quick to assure them that his decision to not bed women as often as they did had nothing to do with Danielle McKay, the woman who had walked off, leaving him standing at the altar ten years ago at a church filled with over two hundred guests. The really sad thing was that his family had liked her, until they’d discovered the truth as to why she had walked out on him in front of everyone with an “I’m sorry,” instead of an “I do.”

  She had later confessed to having an affair that had resulted in a pregnancy. To her credit, at least she’d had the decency to not go through with the wedding instead of passing the kid off as his. But what his family hadn’t known and what he’d kept hidden was that it had been a sense of obligation and not love that had driven him to ask Danielle to marry him in the first place. So in reality, her calling off the wedding had been a blessing in disguise.

  He pulled in a deep breath. If anything, thoughts of Danielle should have reduced the size of his erection but they hadn’t. That meant thoughts of Chloe outweighed thoughts of Danielle by a large margin. He doubted Danielle ever got him this aroused without even touching her. As far as he was concerned, this sort of physical reaction to a woman had to be cruel and unusual punishment.

  Ramsey moved toward the bed, swearing with every step. He had to get up just as early as Chloe did. There were early morning chores that had to be done. Already a few of his nosy family members had called asking questions after a number of his men had bragged about his new cook and how pretty she was. News carried in Westmoreland Country and no doubt some were anticipating his next move and taking bets as to how quick he would be getting her from under his roof.

  As far as he was concerned that was a no-brainer. She was definitely on her way out of there. He was determined that no matter what, he would be contacting the employment agency about finding him a replacement.

  Four

  When Chloe heard a sound behind her she didn’t stop beating the huge bowl full of eggs because she knew who it was. She was determined that nothing about Ramsey Westmoreland was going to unnerve her today. After all, he wasn’t the only man alive with a lot of sexual appeal, although he happened to be the only one who seemed to hold her interest.

  She considered turning around to greet him and then decided because he was the one who’d entered the kitchen, he should be the one to make the gesture. If he didn’t, it wouldn’t be any sweat off her back, namely because she didn’t have any sweat left after those naughty dreams last night where he’d had a starring role.

  “Morning.”

  Okay, he’d done the proper thing and spoke first, but did he have to do so with such a deep huskiness in his voice? Such raw sexuality in his tone? It had only been one word for crying out loud. Yet the sound that had emitted from his lips was sending shudders through her body and had the potential to do other things she just didn’t want to think about this early in the morning. It wasn’t even four yet. And it was going to be a busy morning and an even busier noon.

  Reluctantly, she turned around, deciding she would at least return his greeting. “Good—”

  She swallowed the other word. And was that a moan she’d heard that had just passed her lips? Ramsey Westmoreland had the nerve, the sheer audacity to be standing in the middle of the kitchen putting on a shirt. At least now he was buttoning it up. But not before she’d caught a glimpse of his naked chest, ultra-fine biceps, sculpted shoulders and muscular arms. And it didn’t help matters that his jeans were riding low on his hips and he was barefoot. It was quite obvious he had just taken a shower and had shaved. But still, he had that early-morning take-me-as-I-am look and she was tempted to do just that.

  She wished she had the strength not to let her gaze hone in on such a powerful muscled body, but you could call her weak and she would answer. She was seeing firsthand why she wanted him as her Simply Irresistible man.

  His gaze met hers when he’d noticed her looking and held on to her eyes until the last button was done. What a pity, she thought. She had enjoyed the show.

  “I can’t believe you beat me up,” he said, now slipping a belt through the loops of his jeans.

  Chloe wondered if it was the norm for him to get dressed in the middle of his kitchen. “I couldn’t sleep,” she decided to say. “Unfamiliar bed.” There was no reason to tell him what had really kept her awake.

  “But you did get enough sleep to function this morning,” he stated. “The men will be hungry,” he added.

  She snorted, not caring how it sounded. “Mama Francine said men are always hungry. Even when their stomachs are full.”

  He leaned against the counter. “And who is Mama Francine?”

  Too late she realized she might have said too much, but quickly decided telling him about Mama Francine wasn’t giving anything away. “She’s the person who taught me how to cook.”

  He nodded and she turned back to her eggs. She wasn’t sure how many men would want their eggs scrambled, but she wanted to have the mixture ready just in case. And Mama Francine had taught her how to flip eggs, so those who didn’t want their egg scrambled could tell her just how they liked it.

  She heard him move, but refused to look up again. Besides, she knew he was moving toward her with a slow walk and glancing around inspecting everything while doing so. And with every step he took closer to her she felt his heat. It was even more powerful than what the stove was generating.

  “I’m impressed.”

  She couldn’t help but smile as she glanced over her shoulder. “Again?”

  “Yep. You’re serving both bacon and sausage.”

  She lifted a brow. Curious. “Something’s wrong with that?”

  He shrugged. “No. It’s just that usually Nellie did one or the other.”

  She gazed him a pointed look. “Well, I’m not Nellie.”

  His heavy-lidded eyes raked over her. Slowly. Thoroughly. Then he said in a voice drenched with masculine awareness. “I can see that.”

  She didn’t know what to say to that, so she said nothing at all before turning back around, placing the egg mixture aside to give attention to the pan of biscuits.

  She knew he was staring at her legs and was tempted to pull her skirt down. However, doing so would give him the impression she was uncomfortable with what she was wearing. She wasn’t nor should she be. It was a decent length and, therefore, it was appropriate. It hit just a little above the knee, but she was wearing leggings underneath. If he were to see her in some of the other outfits she owned, the ones that barely covered her thighs, he would probably be shocked.

  “And we’re getting homemade biscuits, too?”

  She couldn’t help the grin that touched her lips when she moved to open the oven door and slide the pan of biscuits inside. “Another abnormality?”

  “Around here, yes.”

  That made Chloe wonder why this Nellie didn’t prepare more of a variety of foods for breakfast. After closing the oven door she turned around, trying to ignore how responsive certain parts of her body were to Ramsey’s nearness. He looked like he needed another five hours of sleep to do him justice, yet at the same time he looked sexy as sin. “May I ask you a question, Ramsey?”

  He shrugged those massive shoulders again. “Depends on what you want to know.”

  She crossed her arms under her breasts and wondered if that had been a good thing when his eyes, half-asleep or not, followed the movement and seemed to be staring right through the material of her blouse to her nipples. At least the nipples thought so and were tingling at the attention they were getting. They w
ere tingling and getting hard all at the same time.

  “I want to know why this Nellie didn’t offer more of a variety to the men at breakfast time.”

  She watched as a grin quirked his lips. “If you knew Nellie you wouldn’t have to ask that question.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know Nellie, so I’m asking it.”

  He tilted his head to the side, focusing those ever-so-intense eyes on her. And weakling that she was, immediately felt her body’s response to his gaze. She wondered if he could detect it. It seemed so unreal that she would react to him this way when Daren couldn’t get a spark of response out of her no matter how much he tried. But then, he hadn’t tried too often. He’d been more interested in building his political future by parading Senator Burton’s daughter out in front of those he felt he needed to impress. And when they were alone he was more into surfing the Internet for political blogs than getting into her. And those times when he had given her his attention, he might as well not have bothered. To say Daren hadn’t had a romantic bone in his body was an understatement. However, the final straw came when he’d actually suggested they participate in a threesome. He claimed that kind of sexual kinkiness was a total turn on for him. For a man who couldn’t even handle a twosome to fix his mouth to propose such a thing was too much. She’d sent him packing with the few items he had kept at her place and with a clear understanding not to come back.

  Since then she had to focus all her energy—sexual and otherwise—into making her magazine a success and refused to think about having any type of a relationship with a man, and now, here she was, behaving like some supercharged, highly-sexed woman, ready to unzip his pants and jump his bones.

  “Nellie figured that for breakfast she would give them just the basic, enough to get by so they could really be hungry by lunchtime,” he interrupted her thoughts by stating.

  She raised a brow. In her opinion that didn’t make much sense. “Wouldn’t they be hungry at lunchtime anyway?”

 

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