“Okay.”
As he escorted her toward the exit, she glanced up at him. “What about your hot water heater?”
“I haven’t picked it out yet but that’s fine since I know the brand I want.”
“All right.”
Together they walked out of the store toward his truck. It was a beautiful day in May but when he felt her shiver beside him, he figured a beautiful day in Savannah would be a day in the eighties. Here in Denver if they got sixty-something degree weather in June they would be ecstatic.
He took his jacket off and placed it around her shoulders. She glanced up at him. “You didn’t have to do that.”
He smiled. “Yes, I did. I don’t want you to get cold on me.” She was wearing a pair of black slacks and a light blue cardigan sweater. As always she looked ultrafeminine.
And now she was wearing his jacket. They continued walking and when they reached his truck she glanced up and her gaze connected with his and he could feel electricity sparking to life between them. She looked away quickly, as if she’d been embarrassed that their attraction to each other was so obvious.
“Do you want your jacket back now?” she asked softly.
“No, keep it on. I like seeing you in it.”
She blushed again and at that moment he got the most ridiculous notion that perhaps this sort of intense attraction between two people was sort of new to Bella. He wouldn’t be surprised to discover that she had several innocent bones in her body; enough to shove him in another direction rather quickly. But for some reason he was staying put.
She nibbled on her bottom lip. “Why do you like seeing me in it?”
“Because I do. And because it’s mine and you’re in it.”
He wasn’t sure if what he’d said made much sense or if she was confused even more. But what he was sure about was that he was determined to find out just how much Bella Bostwick knew about men. And what she didn’t know he was going to make it his business to teach her.
* * *
Bella was convinced there was nothing more compelling than the feel of wearing the jacket belonging to a man whose very existence represented true masculinity. It permeated her with his warmth, his scent and his aura in every way. She was filled with an urge to get more, to know more and to feel more of Jason Westmoreland. And as she stared at him through the car’s window as he pulled out his cell phone to make arrangements for their lunch, she couldn’t help but feel the hot rush of blood in her veins while heat churned deep down inside of her.
And there lay the crux of her problem. As beguiling as the feelings taking over her senses, making ingrained curiosity get the best of her, she knew better than to step beyond the range of her experience. That range didn’t extend beyond what the nuns at the private Catholic schools she’d attended most of her life had warned her about. It was a range good girls just didn’t go beyond.
Jason was the type of man women dreamed about. He was what fantasies were made of. She watched him ease his phone back into the pocket of his jeans, walk around the front of his truck to get in. He was the type of man a woman would love to snuggle up with on a cold Colorado winter night…especially the kind her parents and uncle had said she would have to endure. Just the thought of being with him in front of a roaring fire that blazed in a fireplace would be an unadulterated fantasy come true for any woman…. And her greatest fear.
“You’re comfortable?” he asked, placing a wide-brimmed Stetson on his head.
She glanced over at him and she held his gaze for a moment and then nodded. “Yes, I’m fine. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
He backed up the truck and then they headed out of the parking lot in silence but she was fully aware of his hands that gripped the steering wheel. They were large and strong hands and she could imagine those same hands gripping her. That thought made heat seep into every cell and pore of her body, percolating her bones and making her surrender to something she’d never had before.
Her virginal state had never bothered her before and it didn’t really bother her now except the unknown was making the naughtiness in her come out. It was making her anticipate things she was better off not getting.
“You’ve gotten quiet on me, Bella,” Jason said.
She glanced over at him and again met his gaze thinking, yes she had. But she figured he didn’t want to hear her thoughts out loud and certain things she needed to keep to herself.
“Sorry,” she said. “I was thinking about Friday,” she decided to say.
“Friday?”
“Yes. Pamela invited me to dinner.”
“She did?”
Bella heard the surprise in his voice. “Yes. She said it would be the perfect opportunity to meet everyone. It seems all of my neighbors are Westmorelands. You’re just the one living the closest to me.”
“And what makes you so preoccupied about Friday?”
“Meeting so many of your family members.”
He chuckled. “You’ll survive.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Then she said, “Tell me about them.” He had already told her some but she wanted to hear more. And the ladies who came to visit had also shared some of their family history with her. But she wanted to hear his version just to hear the husky sound of his voice, to feel how it would stir across her skin and tantalize several parts of her body.
“You already met the ones who think they run things, namely the women.”
She laughed. “They don’t?”
“We let them think that way because we’re slowly getting outnumbered. Although Gemma is in Australia she still has a lot to say and whenever we take a vote about anything, of course she sides with the women.”
She grinned. “You all actually take votes on stuff?”
“Yes, we believe in democracy. The last time we voted we had to decide where Christmas dinner would be held. Usually we hold everything at Dillon’s because he has the main family house, but his kitchen was being renovated so we voted to go to Ramsey’s.”
“All of you have homes?”
“Yes. When we each turned twenty-five we in herited one hundred acres. It was fun naming my own spread.”
“Yours is Jason’s Place, right?”
He smiled over at her. “That’s right.”
While he’d been talking her body had responded to the sound of his voice as if it was on a mission to capture each and every nuance. She inhaled deeply and they began chatting again but this time about her family. He’d been honest about his family so she decided to be honest about hers.
“My parents and I aren’t all that close and I can’t remember a time that we were. They didn’t support my move out here,” she said and wondered why she’d wanted to share that little detail.
“Is it true that Kenneth is upset you didn’t sell the land to Myers Smith?” he asked.
She nodded slowly. “Yes, he told me himself that he thinks I made a mistake in deciding to move here and is looking forward to the day I fail so he can say, ‘I told you so.’”
Jason shook his head, finding it hard to believe this was a family member who was hoping for her failure. “Are he and your father close?”
Bella chuckled softly. “They barely know each other. According to Dad he was already in high school when Kenneth was born, although technically Kenneth is my father’s half uncle. My father’s grandfather married Kenneth’s mother who was twenty-five years his junior.”
“Do you have any other family, like cousins?”
She shook her head. “Both my parents were the only children. Of course Uncle Kenneth has a son and daughter but they hadn’t spoken to me since the reading of the will. Uncle Kenneth only spoke to me when he thought I’d be selling the ranch and livestock to his friend.”
By the time he had brought the truck to a stop in front of a huge building, she had to wipe tears of laughter from her eyes when he’d told her about all the trouble the younger Westmorelands had gotten into.
“I just
can’t imagine your cousin Bailey—who has such an innocent look about her—being such a hell-raiser while growing up.”
Jason laughed. “Hey, don’t let the innocent act fool you. The cousins Aiden and Adrian are at Harvard and Bane joined the navy. We talked Bailey into hanging around here to attend college so we could keep an eye on her.”
He chuckled and then added, “It turned out to be a mistake when she began keeping an eye on us instead.”
When he turned off the truck’s engine she glanced through the windshield at the building looming in front of them and raised a brow. “This isn’t a restaurant?”
He glanced over at her. “No, it’s not. It’s the Blue Ridge Management, a company my father and uncle founded over forty years ago. After they were killed Dillon and Ramsey took over. Ramsey eventually left Dillon in charge to become a sheep rancher and Dillon is currently CEO.”
He glanced out the windshield to look up at the forty-story building with a pensive look on his face and moments later added, “My brother Riley holds an upper management position here. My cousins Zane and Derringer, as well as myself, worked for the company after college until last year when we decided to join the Montana Westmorelands in the horse training and breeding business.”
He smiled. “I guess you can say that nine-to-five gig was never our forte. Like Ramsey we prefer being out doors.”
She nodded and followed his gaze to the building. “And we’re eating lunch here?”
He glanced over at her. “Yes, I have my office that I still use from time to time to conduct business. I called ahead and Dillon’s secretary took care of everything for me.”
A few moments later they were walking into the massive lobby of Blue Ridge Land Management and the first thing Bella noticed was the huge, beautifully decorated atrium with a waterfall amidst a replica of mountains complete with blooming flowers and other types of foliage. After stopping at the security guard station they caught an elevator up to the executive floor.
“I remember coming up here a lot with my dad,” Jason said softly, reflecting on that time. “Whenever he would work on the weekends, he would gather us all together to get us out of Mom’s hair for a while. Once we got up to the fortieth floor we knew he would probably find something for us to do.”
He chuckled and then added, “But just in case he didn’t. I would always travel with a pack of crayons in my back pocket.”
Bella smiled. She could just imagine Jason and his six brothers crowded on the elevator with their father. Although he would be working they would have gotten to spend the day with him nonetheless. She couldn’t ever recall a time her father had taken her to work with him. In fact she hadn’t known where the Bostwick Firm had been located until she was well into her teens. Her mother never worked outside the home but was mainly the hostess for the numerous parties her parents would give.
It seemed the ride to the top floor took forever. A few times the elevator stopped to let people either on or off. Some of them recognized Jason and he took the time to inquire about the family members he knew, especially their children or grandchildren.
The moment they stepped off the elevator onto the fortieth floor Bella could tell immediately that this was where all the executive offices were located. The furniture was plush and the carpeting thick and luxurious looking. She was quickly drawn to huge paintings of couples adorning the walls in the center of the lobby. Intrigued she moved toward them.
“These are my parents,” Jason said, coming to stand by her side. “And the couple in the picture over there is my aunt and uncle. My father and Uncle Thomas were close, barely fourteen months apart in age. And my mother and Aunt Susan got along beautifully and were just as close as sisters.”
“And they died together,” she whispered softly. It was a statement not a question since he had already told her what had happened when they’d all died in a plane crash. Bella studied the portrait of his parents in detail. Jason favored his father a lot but he definitely had his mother’s mouth.
“She was beautiful,” she said. “So was your aunt Susan. I take it Ramsey and Chloe’s daughter was named after her?”
Jason nodded. “Yes, and she’s going to grow up to be a beauty just like her grandmother.”
She glanced over at him. “And what was your mother’s name?”
“Clarisse. And my father was Adam.” Jason then looked down at his watch. “Come on. Our lunch should have arrived by now.”
He surprised her when he took her arm and led her toward a bank of offices and stopped at one in particular with his name on it. She felt her heart racing. Although he hadn’t called it as such, she considered this lunch a date.
That thought was reinforced when he opened the door to his office and she saw the table set for lunch. The room was spacious and had a downtown view of Denver. The table, completely set with everything, including a bottle of wine, had been placed by the window so they could enjoy the view while they ate.
“Jason, the table and the view are beautiful. Thanks for inviting me to lunch.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, pulling a chair out for her. “There’s a huge restaurant downstairs for the employees but I thought we’d eat in here for privacy.”
“That’s considerate of you.”
And done for purely selfish reasons, Jason thought as he took the chair across from her. He liked having her all to himself. Although he wasn’t a tea drinker, he had become one and looked forward to visiting her each week to sit down and converse while drinking tea. He enjoyed her company. He glanced over at her and their gazes connected. Their response to each other always amazed him because it seemed so natural and out of control. He couldn’t stop the heat flowing all through his body at that precise moment even if he wanted to.
He doubted she knew she had a dazed look in the depths of her dark eyes or that today everything about her looked soft, feminine but not overly so. Just to the right degree to make a man appreciate being a man.
She slowly broke eye contact with him to lift the lid off the platter and when she glanced back up she was smiling brightly. “Spaghetti.”
He couldn’t help but return her smile. “Yes. I recall you saying the other day how much you enjoyed Italian food.” In fact they had talked about a number of things in the hour he had been there.
“I do love Italian food,” she said excitedly, taking a hold of her fork.
He poured wine into their glasses and glanced over and caught her slurping up a single strand of spaghetti through a pair of luscious lips. His gut clenched and when she licked her lips he couldn’t help but envy the noodle.
When she caught him staring she blushed, embarrassed at being caught doing something so inelegant. “Sorry. I know that showed bad manners but I couldn’t resist.” She smiled. “It was the one thing I always wanted to do around my parents whenever we ate spaghetti that I couldn’t do.”
He chuckled. “No harm done. In fact you can slurp the rest of it if you’d like. It’s just you and me.”
She grinned. “Thanks, but I better not.” He then watched as she took her fork in her hand, preparing to eat the rest of her spaghetti in the classical and cultured way.
“I take it your parents were strong disciplinarians,” he said, taking a sip of his wine.
Her smile slowly faded. “They still are or at least they try to be. Even now they will stop at nothing to get me back to Savannah so they can keep an eye on me. I got a call from my attorney this morning warning me they’ve possibly found a loophole in the trust fund my grandparents established for me before they died.”
He lifted a brow. “What kind of a loophole?”
“One that says I’m supposed to be married after the first year. If that’s true I have less than three months,” she said in disgust. “I’m sure they’re counting on me returning to Savannah to marry Hugh.”
He sipped his wine. “Hugh?”
She met his gaze and he could see the troubled look in hers. “Yes, Hugh Pierce. His family
comes from Savannah’s old money and my parents have made up their minds that Hugh and I are a perfect match.”
He watched her shoulders rise and fall after releasing several sighs. Evidently the thought of becoming Mrs. Hugh Pierce bothered her. Hell, the thought bothered him, as well.
In a way he should be overjoyed, elated, that there was a possibility she was moving back to Savannah. That meant her ranch and Hercules would probably be up for sale. And when they were, he would be ready to make her an offer he hoped she wouldn’t refuse. He knew he wasn’t the only one wanting the land and no telling how many others wanted Hercules, but he was determined that the prized stallion wouldn’t fall into anyone’s hands but his.
And yet, he wasn’t overjoyed or elated at the thought that she would return to Savannah.
He got the impression her parents were controlling people or at least they tried to be. He began eating, wondering why her parents wanted to shove this Hugh Pierce down her throat when she evidently wasn’t feeling the guy. Would they coerce her to marry someone just because the man came from “old money”?
He forced the thought to the back of his mind, thinking who she ended up marrying was no concern of his. But making sure his name headed the list as a potential buyer for her ranch and livestock was. He glanced over at her. “When will you know what you’ll have to do?”
She looked up after taking a sip of her wine. “I’m not sure. I have a good attorney but I have to admit my parents’ attorney is more experienced in such matters. In other words, he’s crafty as sin. I’m sure when my grandparents drew up my trust they thought they were looking out for my future because in their social circles, ideally, a young woman married by her twenty-sixth birthday. For her to attend college was just a formality since she was expected to marry a man who had the means to take care of her.”
“And your parents have no qualms in forcing you to marry?”
“No, not one iota,” she said without pause. “They don’t truly care about my happiness. All they care about is that they would be proving once again they control my life and always will.”
He heard the trembling in her voice and when she looked down as to study her silverware, he knew her composure was being threatened. At that moment, something inside of him wanted to get up, pull her into his arms and tell her things would be all right. But he couldn’t rightly say that. He had no way of knowing they would be for her, given the situation she was in. Actually it was her problem not his. Still another part of him couldn’t help regretting that her misfortune could end up being his golden opportunity.
Brenda Jackson The Westmoreland Series Books 16-20 Page 59
