Brenda Jackson - The Danforths - Wesley, Ian & Imogene

“How do you know it’s her when you’ve never seen her before?” he asked Ian.

“Because Jake was here when she came in and he pointed her out to me. He said she’s the one who’d been sniffing around trying to dig up something on the family. Then I remembered what you told us, so I’ve been keeping my eye on her and she’s here tonight sniffing. One of the waitresses said she’s been asking questions about Dad.”

Damn . Wesley squeezed his eyes shut and silently counted to ten. He reopened them as he stood and said. “I’m on my way.”

Four

Jasmine sat forward and rested her forearms on the table as she glanced around the coffeehouse. She was getting bored.

She’d already been here for an hour and so far she hadn’t found out anything about Abraham Danforth that she hadn’t already known. The waitress who had waited on her hadn’t been too chatty and when she had spoken, it was to sing Abraham Danforth’s praises. It seemed that everyone wanted to share the good stuff about him but no one was willing to divulge the bad.

She glanced across the room and knew the man looking at her so intently was Ian Danforth, Abraham’s oldest son and CEO of Danforth and Company. She heard he frequented the coffee shop since he, along with his brother Adam and cousin Jacob were the owners. She’d also heard that he was a playboy which wouldn’t surprise her, given what she’d been able to dig up on the very handsome man with wavy brown hair and hazel eyes.

A Duke University graduate, he had married at twenty-two because his girlfriend had gotten pregnant. A few months into the marriage, the woman had lost the baby. Somehow it had been revealed that she’d never wanted Ian or the baby, just Ian’s money. Subsequently the marriage ended in a divorce. Over the years, his sister and cousins had tried playing matchmaker but from what Jasmine gathered, Ian Danforth only dated women that he was in no danger of falling in love with.

Jasmine had even gone so far as to do research to locate his ex-wife, Lara, to see if there was any scoop the woman had wanted to share but hadn’t been able to find her. After leaving Savannah, Lara Danforth appeared to have fallen off the face of the earth.

Jasmine decided to shift her thoughts to something else—something pleasant. She thought about the interview she had done last week. The article had appeared in today’s paper and her editor had been very generous with his praise. The interview had been with a female teacher who had recently returned from Iraq and had shared her year-long experience. It was too bad that stories like those couldn’t advance a reporter’s career to the next level. The majority of the reading public wanted to know about a famous person’s sordid past and juicy present, especially if that person was a “wanna be” politician like Abraham Danforth. Those were the type of stories that could boost a reporter’s career.

Jasmine took a sip of her coffee thinking how good it tasted. There were several D&D coffeehouses around the city and she usually dropped into one from time to time to drink coffee and eat a danish or two.

She glanced around, wondering whom she could possibly make conversation with that might have the information she needed. She’d heard that of all the coffeehouses, this was the one Abraham Danforth frequented the most. It was also rumored that he usually made an appearance with his PR person, Nicola Granville, every Wednesday night to discuss strategy over coffee. Jasmine hoped that if that meeting took place tonight, she would be within listening range. There was no telling the information she could pick up from that discussion.

Suddenly, Jasmine felt a warmth slide up her spine and she shifted her gaze to the entrance of the coffeehouse.

Wesley Brooks.

Their gazes connected and she inhaled slowly. The man was frowning. Her hand tightened around the cup of coffee she held in her hand, bracing herself for the anger she felt radiating from him all the way across the room. She had never known a man who could look so good when he was mad. And, boy, did he look good. Marvelous was a better word. She would even go so far to use the word striking .

Wearing a pair of jeans that looked like they were custom-made for his body, and a pullover shirt, he looked delicious, good enough to eat or to lick all over. She blinked, not believing the direction of her thoughts but lately she’d found that Wesley Brooks had featured prominently in her sexual fantasies; fantasies she’d never had until meeting him.

She let out a long, deep sigh. So what if she found him attractive. She was a woman and he was a man. No big deal. But as she continued to hold his angry gaze, she decided it was a big deal when they each considered the other the enemy. He was determined to put himself in the path of what she wanted, what she needed the most—a news-breaking story.

As he slowly skirted around several tables to head her way, she vowed not to be intimidated by him. She lifted her chin, refusing to turn to mush as the strong, well-defined muscles of his chest and shoulders became more defined by the glow of lanterns burning on the walls. His jeans and the way he was wearing them made every woman in the place sensually aware of him as a man. She didn’t miss the number of female heads that turned to look at him.

Mercy , she thought. The man was filling her vision. He was also filling something else; a desire to release the suppressed hormones trying to spring to life inside of her. She’d always thought of herself as a good girl but tonight, this very second, the thoughts flooding her mind weren’t good. They were racy, torrid…just plain bad.

Jasmine self-consciously cleared her throat when he came nearer, and tried to ignore the way her body was reacting. Her blouse suddenly felt too tight against her breasts. She frowned, not liking the thought that Wesley Brooks could fill her with hot sensations whenever he was within a hundred feet of her. But then from the articles she had read in the paper in the society columns, women drooled over him all the time, which was one of the reasons he had a reputation for being an irresistible ladies’ man. Now that Jake Danforth was married off, Wesley Brooks’s and Ian Danforth’s names headed Savannah’s list as the city’s most eligible bachelors; bachelors that any woman would want.

When he came to a stop at her table, she leaned back in her chair and exhaled a long, deep breath. He was upset at seeing her here tonight. It then dawned on her that he was upset but not surprised. In fact, he had walked in like he had expected to find her, which meant someone had tipped him off. She glanced over at Ian Danforth and he gave her a mega-watt smile. She frowned. The man had obviously snitched on her.

She shrugged. This was a free country and she had the right to go wherever she wanted. If Wesley thought just because he was holding her locket hostage that he could dictate how she spent her evenings, then he had another thought coming. Thanks to her stepmother and stepsisters, she had learned a long time ago how to stick up for herself and not let anyone run her life. She might have little control over Wesley Brooks dominating her dreams but she refused to let him command the hours while she was awake.

So as calmly as she could, she returned his stare as she gripped the coffee cup tighter in her hand. She twisted her lips in a forced smile. “Wesley, funny seeing you here.”

* * *

There was nothing funny about it at all, Wesley thought, meeting her gaze. Whenever he saw her, his hormones shifted into overdrive and visions of naked bodies, silken sheets and thrusting motions danced in his head.

Jasmine Carmody just might be the death of him; but before he died, he wanted to do something outrageous like reach across the table, snatch her up in his arms and mold her smart-ass mouth against his.