Westmoreland Desires: Riding the Storm / Jared's Counterfeit Fiancée / The Chase Is On
Brenda Jackson
Three sizzling Westmoreland stories from New York Times bestselling author Brenda Jackson Riding the Storm Because he could sweet-talk any woman into his bed, and regularly did so, fireman Storm Westmoreland used lovemaking the way other men used a long, hot shower – to blow off steam. Until a torrid weekend with a too-hot-to-handle virgin left him craving something more than mere physical satisfaction… Jared’s Counterfeit Fiancée Pretending to be Jared Westmoreland’s fiancée wasn’t Dana Rollins’s idea. But she owed him a favour, and Jared’s persuasive charm and sinful masculinity – not to mention his sizzling kisses – were impossible to refuse. With the passion quickly rising between them, Dana wondered if their romantic charade might be the real thing after all. The Chase Is On ChaseWestmoreland’s restaurant’s new neighbour was as delicious and tempting as the chocolates she made. In fact, Jessica Claiborne was so enticing that Chase was finding it difficult to concentrate on anything else!
Westmoreland Desires
BRENDA JACKSON
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
About the Author
BRENDA JACKSON is a die “heart” romantic who married her childhood sweetheart and still proudly wears the “going steady” ring he gave her when she was fifteen. Because she’s always believed in the power of love, Brenda’s stories always have happy endings. In her reallife love story, Brenda and her husband of thirty-three years live in Jacksonville, Florida, and have two sons. A USA TODAY bestselling author, Brenda divides her time between family, writing and working in management at a major insurance company. You may write Brenda at PO Box 28267, Jacksonville, Florida 32226, USA, by e-mail at WriterBJackson@aol.com, or visit her website at www.brendajackson.net.
RIDING THE STORM
To my family and friends.
And to Jayla Ti’ona Hall. This one is for you
when you are old enough to read it.
****
Through wisdom a house is builded,
And by understanding it is established.
—Proverbs 24:3
One
“Jayla? What are you doing in New Orleans?”
A gasp of surprise and recognition slipped from Jayla Cole’s lips when she quickly turned around. Her gaze immediately connected with that of the tall, dark and dangerously handsome man towering over her as they stood in the lobby of the Sheraton Hotel in the beautiful French Quarter.
There stood Storm Westmoreland. The man had the reputation of being able to talk the panties off any woman who caught his interest. According to what she’d heard, even though Storm sported a clean-cut, all-American-kind-of-a-guy image, he was a master at providing pleasure without promises of forever. The word was that he had the uncanny ability to turn any female’s fantasy into reality and had created many memories that were too incredible to forget. Many women considered him the “Perfect Storm.”
He was also a man who, for ten years, had avoided her like the plague.
“I arrived in town a couple of days ago to attend the International Organization for Business Communicators convention,” she heard herself saying, while trying not to be captivated by the deep darkness of his eyes, the sensual fullness of his lips or the diamond stud he wore in his left ear. And if all that weren’t bad enough, there was his skin tone that was the color of semi-sweet chocolate, hair that was cut low and neatly trimmed on his head and the sexiest pair of dimples.
He was dressed in a pair of khakis and a pullover shirt that accentuated his solid frame. His chest was broad and his butt was as tight as she remembered. He always looked good in anything he wore. Her heart accelerated at the memory of her mischievous teenage years when she’d once caught him off guard by boldly brushing up against him. She had thought she’d died and gone to heaven that day. And just like then, Storm was still more than just handsome—he was drop-dead, make-you-want-to-scream, gorgeous.
“What about you?” she decided to ask. “What are you doing in New Orleans?”
“I was here for the International Association of Fire Captains meeting.”
She nodded, doing a remarkable job of switching her attention from his strong male features to his words. “I read about your promotion in the newspapers. Dad would have been proud of you, Storm.”
“Thanks.”
She saw the sadness that immediately appeared in his eyes and understood why. He hadn’t gotten over her father’s death, either. In fact, the last time she had seen Storm had been at her father’s funeral six months ago. He did, however, on occasion call to see how she was doing. Adam Cole had been Storm’s first fire captain when he had joined the squad at twenty, over twelve years ago. Her father always thought of Storm as the son he’d never had.
She would never forget the first time her dad had brought him to dinner when she was sixteen. Storm had made quite an impression on her. Not caring that there was a six-year difference in their ages, she’d had a big-time crush on him and would never forget how she had gone out of her way to make him notice her. But no matter how much she’d tried, he never did. And now as she thought back, some of her tactics had been rather outrageous as well as embarrassing. Thank goodness Storm had taken all of her antics in stride and had rebuffed her advances in a genteel way. Now, at twenty-six, she was ten years older and wiser, and she could admit something she had refused to admit then. The man was not her type and was totally out of her league.
“So, how long will you be in The Big Easy?” he asked, breaking once again into her thoughts.
“I’ll be here for the rest of the week. The conference ended today, but I’ve made plans to stick around until Sunday to take in the sights. I haven’t been to New Orleans in over five years.”
He smiled and it was a smile that made her insides feel jittery. “I was here a couple of years ago and totally enjoyed myself,” he said.
She couldn’t help wondering if he’d come with a woman or if he’d made the trip with his brothers. Everyone who’d lived in the Atlanta area for an extended period of time was familiar with the Westmoreland brothers—Dare, Thorn, Stone, Chase and Storm. Their only sister, Delaney, who was the youngest of the siblings, had made news a couple years ago when she married a desert sheikh from the Middle East.
Dare Westmoreland was a sheriff in a suburb of Atlanta called College Park; Thorn was well-known nationally for the motorcycles he raced and built; Stone, who wrote under the pen name of Rock Mason, was a national bestselling author of action-thriller novels and Chase, Storm’s fraternal twin, owned a soul-food restaurant in downtown Atlanta.
“So how long do you plan on staying?” she asked.
“My meeting ended today. Like you, I plan on staying until Sunday to take in the sights and to eat my fill of Cajun food.”
His words had sounded so husky and sexy she could actually feel her throat tighten.
“How would you like to join me for dinner?”
Jayla blinked, not sure she had heard him correctly. “Excuse me?”
He gave her what had to be his Perfect Storm sexy smile. “I said how would you like to join me for dinner? I haven’t seen you since Adam’s funeral, and although we’ve talked briefly on the phone a couple of times since then, I’d love to sit and chat with you to see how you’ve been doing.”
A part of her flinched inside. His words reminded her of the promise he had made to her father before he’d died—that if she ever needed anything, he would be there for her. She didn’t relish the thought of another domineering man in her life, especially one who reminded her so much of her father. The reason Storm and Adam Cole had gotten along so well was because they’d thought a lot alike.
“Thanks for the offer, but I’ve already made plans for later,” she said, lying through her teeth.
It seemed that turning down his offer didn’t faze him one bit. He merely shrugged his shoulders before checking his watch. “All right, but if you change your mind give me a call. I’m in Room 536.”
“Thanks, I’ll do that.”
He looked at her and smiled. “It was good seeing you again, Jayla, and if you ever need anything don’t hesitate to call me.”
If he really believed she would call him, then he didn’t know her at all, Jayla quickly thought. Her father may have thought of Storm as a son, but she’d never considered him a brother. In her mind, he had been the guy who could make her all hot and bothered; the guy who was the perfect figment of a teenage girl’s imagination. He had been real, bigger than life and for two solid years before leaving Atlanta to attend college, he had been the one person who had consumed all of her thoughts.
When she returned home four years ago, she had still found him totally irresistible, but it didn’t take long to realize that he still wouldn’t give her the time of day.
“And it was good seeing you again, too, Storm. Just in case we don’t run into each other again while we’re here, I hope you have a safe trip back to Atlanta,” she said, hoping she sounded a lot more excited than she actually felt.
“And I ditto that for you,” he said. He surprised her when he grasped her fingers and held them firmly. She’d shivered for a second before she could stop herself. His touch had been like a shock. She couldn’t help noticing how strong his hand was, and his gaze was deep and intent.
She remembered another time their gazes had connected in such a way. It had been last year, when the men at the fire station had given her father a surprise birthday party. She distinctively remembered Storm standing across the room talking to someone and then suddenly turning, locking his gaze with hers as if he were actually seeing her for the first time. The episode had been brief, but earth-tilting for her nonetheless.
“Your father was a very special man, Jayla, and he meant a lot to me,” he said softly before releasing his grip and taking a step back.