The Danforths: Wesley, Ian & Imogene: Scandal Between the Sheets / The Boss Man's Fortune / Challenged by the Sheikh

Wesley narrowed his gaze at her. “Don’t you ever let up? The last thing Joyce needs right now is a nosey newspaper reporter asking her questions. She probably needs this time alone.”

Jasmine scowled. “I’m not an insensitive person.”

He glared. “Really? You had me fooled. Only an insensitive person would have hassled Larissa about the identify of her baby’s father.”

She placed her hands on her hips. “It’s my job to report any news-breaking stories. And I considered that news breaking. Anything that goes on in the Danforths’ household is newsworthy. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a job to do.”

Wesley sighed. The woman was wearing on his last nerve and he forced himself to stay calm in the wake of his rising anger. He moved aside when she got into her car. He had meant what he said, he intended to be her shadow and somehow he would get through it. She would be a challenge but he’d overcome challenges before. Jasmine Carmody was nothing compared to others he’d faced. As a kid, being carted from one foster home to another had been a challenge, as well as a pain…literally.

He had to keep his head on straight and remember that she was just a woman and he’d known plenty. But then there was something that made her stand out, something distinctively different. As he got into his car to follow her to her next destination—which he knew would be Crofthaven—the only thing he could think about was that a woman like Jasmine could mess with a man’s mind.

His mind he could control. He hoped and prayed he could control the rest of his body.

Although she wanted to appear cool on the outside, Jasmine was in turmoil on the inside. The more she thought about Wesley Brooks, the angrier she became. And she didn’t understand how she could be attracted to a man like him. It was disgusting.

By the time she arrived at Crofthaven, several television news crews were there to set up for a press conference. The huge estate on the outskirts of Savannah housed a large Georgian-style mansion. The house was considered a historical landmark as it was built over one hundred years ago. The grounds surrounding Crofthaven were lush and lovely, and no doubt tended by a whole army of gardeners, Jasmine thought. Magnificent moss-covered oak trees lined the drive to the main house. The land stretched all the way to the Atlantic and Jasmine picked up the potent scent of the ocean.

She quickly parked her car and got out, determined to find out as much information as she could. She glanced around and saw another reporter from the Savannah Morning News and waved. Brad Cabot answered her greeting with a full-fledge boyish grin. Fresh out of college, he had only been working for the paper a year and she had found him to be good company during the times they had gone out on assignments together.

“What’s going on?” she asked the minute he walked up.

“Not much. The family plans to make a statement in a few minutes so you got here just in time.”

Jasmine nodded at the same time she glanced around and saw Wesley’s car pull up. Her eyes narrowed and a frown touched her lips as she watched him get out of his car. Reporters rushed over to him, wanting a statement, a comment, just about any information he could provide. Without responding to the vast number of questions being thrown at him, he steadily moved up the steps of the huge mansion toward the front door.

Jasmine watched him, and as if he felt the heat of her gaze, he turned and looked at her. Her eyes immediately went to the strong lines of his face, especially the darkness of his eyes, the fullness of his lips and the firmness of his chin. She drew in a quick, shaky breath and her heart thumped crazily in her chest as their gazes met and held. He frowned and she felt his disapproval all the way to her toes.

She also felt something else. Cutting through all of his anger she felt an intense attraction. She swallowed when his gaze continued to stay welded to hers, unable to move. Then moments later he turned before opening the door and entering Crofthaven.

“I take it that the two of you know each other,” Brad said grinning, glancing over his shoulder at her. It had been clearly obvious that Wesley’s gaze had singled her out.

She shrugged and replied in a carefully neutral tone. “Yes, we’ve run into each other a few times.”

“And what do you think of him?”

Jasmine didn’t want to think of him at all. She met Brad’s gaze. “I think he’s…interesting.”

A few hours later and Jasmine was pretty sure Wesley Brooks was more than interesting. He was beginning to become a nuisance. Even now while she did her grocery shopping, she knew that he was somewhere watching her.

At the press conference at Crofthaven, Abraham Danforth had spoken on behalf of the Danforth family and acknowledged that the body found in the attic had been that of his long-time housekeeper’s daughter. He’d further stated that the hearts of the Danforths went out to the Jones’s family.

In Jasmine’s opinion, Abraham Danforth had handled the media like a true politician and had only perfected his squeaky clean image. He assured everyone that he was one hundred percent behind the investigation to determine the cause of Martha’s death and he wanted to find out the truth as much as anyone. While he had been talking she was aware that Wesley, standing united with the members of the Danforth family, had been watching her.

Like he was still doing.

She glanced around the supermarket. Although she didn’t see him anywhere, she felt his presence.

“Did you find everything you needed?” the woman asked her at checkout.

“Yes, thanks,” she replied. She then glanced over her shoulder to see Wesley Brooks coming up to stand directly behind her with a ton of microwave spaghetti dinners in his hand.

“Stocking up on dinner, Mr. Brooks?” she asked after accepting her change back from the cashier.

“No more than you’re stocking up on junk food,” he countered, looking at her purchases that consisted of a pair of panty hose, a celebrity magazine, several bars of Snickers and a pint-size carton of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream.

“This is energy food,” she said, deciding she didn’t like him seeing what she had bought.

“And this is energy food, as well.” He then glanced at his watch. “I hope you’re calling it a day and are on your way home.”

She lifted a brow. “And if I’m not?”

“Then I’ll have to follow you around some more.”

She wanted to tell him to stop following her and get a life. But the last thing she needed to do was make him angry; she’d never get her locket back that way.

Jasmine had decided last night while in bed that the best way to deal with Wesley Brooks was to ignore him—which wasn’t an easy thing to do.

“Don’t try keeping up with me,” she said, tossing the words over her shoulder as she accepted the grocery bag the cashier handed her.

“Oh, but I will keep up with you and I must say I found your activities today rather interesting.”

“Don’t you have a company to run?” she asked angrily.

“Yes, and being my own boss gives me the flexibility to make my own hours and I’ve decided to work them around your schedule.”

“How accommodating,” she snapped.

He smiled. “Yes, I think so.”

Jasmine frowned. This was the first time she had seen him since she’d left the press conference at Crofthaven. Martha Jones and Victoria Danforth had become missing within two years of each other, and Jasmine had left the press conference feeling rather suspicious of that fact. She couldn’t help wondering if Wesley was letting her know that he’d been hot on her tail when she’d left the press conference for the library to research old newspaper articles regarding the disappearances of both women. While she was at the library she had also decided to check into information on Abraham Danforth’s social life and the women involved in it.

Deciding not to engage in conversation with Wesley Brooks any longer, she gripped the bag firmly in her hand and walked out the door into the well-lit parking lot. When she got to her car she noted he was parked next to her. She pretended not to pay any attention when he went to his own car. He glanced over at her.

“You didn’t ask as many questions as I expected at today’s press conference,” he said putting his grocery bag in the back seat of his car. “I was impressed.”

She glared at him. “Don’t be. There will be other days, trust me.”

Wesley held her glare, emitting one of his own. “But I don’t trust you. Ms. Carmody, and doubt that I ever will.” He opened his car door to get in. “I suggest you go on home before your ice cream melts.”

Without waiting for her to respond he slipped inside his car and started the engine. But he didn’t move his vehicle until she had angrily gotten into hers and pulled out.

Glancing into her rearview mirror Jasmine saw that he was determined to follow her to her door. She inhaled deeply, thinking it would be a waste of energy to lose her temper. If the man had nothing else to do then that was his business and she refused to let him get to her.

But a part of her knew it was too late. He had already gotten to her and it would be a sheer act of will on her part to ignore him.

Wesley smiled when he pulled into his driveway to find Imogene Danforth sitting in her car and waiting on him. He was pleased, as well as surprised, to see her since they hadn’t got the chance to talk much at the press conference earlier that day. Everyone knew that Imogene was one very busy woman, almost working obsessively as an investment banker to move up the corporate ladder. She was known to eat on the run while conducting business over the phone.

He also knew that Imogene put a lot of stock in her appearance. She always chose just the right clothes, the right haircut and the right possessions. She saw all those things as essential in succeeding in the cutthroat business world of finance.