Hot Westmoreland Nights / Scandalising the CEO: Hot Westmoreland Nights / Scandalizing the CEO. Brenda Jackson
come from? Chloe wondered.
“Now that I know how you feel about Derringer Westmoreland, I will tell Ramsey the truth as soon as reasonably possible. I still want to make him feel indebted to me first for a while and then I’ll level with him and come clean.”
Lucia nodded. “I know how much having Ramsey on the cover of your magazine as well as doing that article on him means to you.”
Chloe met Lucia’s gaze and smiled. “Yes, I don’t want you to worry about it because I believe in the end we’ll both get what we want.”
Ramsey looked up from the breeding charts he had spread over his desk and considered going into the kitchen to eat that last bit of peach cobbler that had been left from lunch. It had been so delicious his mouth was beginning to water just thinking about it.
And his mouth was beginning to water just thinking about something else as well. More specifically, someone else. Chloe Burton. Talk about looking yummy. He threw his pencil down and leaned back in his chair. At that moment he couldn’t help but think about snug-fitting jeans that covered a curvaceous backside and a blouse that fit perfectly over a tempting pair of breasts. He was getting aroused at the memory.
Damn.
Deciding he needed a beer more so than any peach cobbler, he got up to make his way to the kitchen. Moments later he was leaning against the counter and tipping the bottle to his lips and taking a much-needed drink. Lowering the bottle he then glanced around the room and for the first time noticed just how large and quiet his home was. Usually he welcomed the silence, but for some reason it bothered him tonight.
He studied the ceramic floor as he thought about his greatgrandfather, Raphael Westmoreland, who had owned over eighteen hundred acres of land on the outskirts of Denver’s city limits. When each Westmoreland reached the age of twenty-five they were given a one-hundred-acre tract of land. It was why he, his siblings and cousins all lived in close proximity to each other. As the oldest cousin, in addition to receiving his one hundred acres, Dillon had also inherited Shady Tree Ranch, the Westmoreland family home. The huge two-story dwelling sat on three hundred acres and hosted the majority of the family functions. Since Dillon had married Pamela it seemed the Westmorelands had reason to celebrate a lot. Everyone adored Dillon’s wife, found her totally different from his first wife, and had welcomed Pamela and her three sisters into the family with open arms.
He lifted his head when he heard a knock at his door and glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was close to eleven, but that didn’t mean a damn thing to any of his siblings or cousins. They felt they had a right to come calling at any time. He shook his head as he made it to the door, thinking it was probably his sister Megan. She was twenty-four years old and an anesthesiologist at the hospital in town.
Without bothering to ask who it was, he slung his front door open to find Chloe Burton standing on his porch and tightly gripping a piece of luggage. He was so surprised to see her that he could only stand and stare.
He could tell by the way she was nibbling on her lower lip that she was nervous, but that wasn’t what held his attention, although the action caused a tightening in his gut. What had him transfixed was her outfit. She had almost ruined a saucy minidress by wearing leggings. He would have loved to see her bare legs and almost sighed in disappointment. But then he had to admit she still looked gorgeous and sexy as hell. Good enough to eat after first lapping her all over. He swallowed knowing at that moment that he was in trouble.
“I know I said I’d come back in the morning, but I figured not to take any chances getting here late. Besides, I need to get things set up, if the men eat at five. I’ll need to be in the kitchen at least by four. So … here I am.”
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