Ian's Ultimate Gamble. Brenda Jackson
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once come pretty damn close to asking to be his wife…before her betrayal. The last time he’d seen her had been three years ago in Atlanta at his cousin Dare’s wedding. Since she’d once worked for Sheriff Dare Westmoreland as one of his deputies, she’d been invited, and Ian had deliberately ignored her.
But not this time. She was on his turf and he intended to let her know it.
Ian was watching her.
Brooke wasn’t sure from where but the federal agent in her knew how. Video monitors. The place was full of them, positioned so discreetly she doubted the crowd of people who were eager to play the odds knew they were on camera.
“Excuse me, Ms. Chamberlain?”
Brooke turned to stare into the face of a tall, husky-looking man in his late forties with blond hair and dark blue eyes. “Yes?”
“I’m Vance Parker, head of security for the casino. The owner of this establishment, Ian Westmoreland, would like a few words with you in his office.”
Brooke’s lips curved into a smile. She seriously doubted that Ian had just a “few words” to say to her. “All right, Mr. Parker, lead the way.”
And as Vance Parker escorted her to the nearest elevator she prayed that she would be able to survive the next two weeks.
With his gaze glued to the glass, Ian had watched the exchange; had known the exact moment Vance had mentioned his name. Upon hearing it, Brooke’s reaction hadn’t been one of surprise, which shot to hell the possibility that she hadn’t known he owned the place. She had knowingly entered the lion’s den, and he was determined to find out why.
He stood and moved around his desk, suddenly feeling that knot in his gut tighten even more. And when he heard the ding, a signal that someone was on their way up in his private elevator, the feeling got worse. Although he didn’t want to admit it, he was about to come face-to-face with the one woman he’d never been able to get out of his system. Whether deliberately or otherwise, during the two years they were together, Brooke had raised the bar on his expectations about women. Deputy by day and total woman at night, she had made any female that had followed in her wake seem tremendously lacking. He’d had to finally face the fact that whether he liked it or not, Brooke Chamberlain had been the ultimate woman. The one female who had robbed his appetite for other women. The one woman who’d been able to tame his wild heart.
Not only tame it, but capture it.
The memory brought a bitter smile his lips. But today he was older and wiser, and the heart she once controlled had since turned to stone. Still, that didn’t stop his breath from catching in his throat when he turned at the sound of the elevator door opening.
Their gazes connected, and he acknowledged that the chemistry they’d always shared was still there. Hot. Intense. Soul stirring. He felt it, clear across the room, and when he felt the floor shake, he placed his hand on his desk to keep his balance.
This was the closest they’d been to each other since that morning when he’d found out the truth and had walked out of her apartment after their heated argument. At Dare and Shelly’s wedding, Ian had kept his distance, refusing to come within ten feet of her, but those gut-wrenching vibes had been strong then, nonetheless.
Over the years it had been hard to let go of the memory of the day they’d met in Dare’s office, when she’d been twenty-two. Even in her deputy uniform she had taken his breath away, just as she was doing now at twenty-eight.
Despite their separation and the circumstances that had driven him to end what he’d thought was the perfect love affair, he had to admit that in his opinion she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever set eyes on. She had skin the color of sweet almond; expressive eyes that turned various shades of brown depending on her mood; lips that could curve in a way to make every cell in his body vibrate; and the mass of dreds that came to her shoulders, which he loved holding on to each and every time he entered her body.
His hand balled into a fist at his side. The thought that Brooke could make him dredge up unwanted memories spiked his anger, and he forced his gaze away from her to Vance. “Thanks, Mr. Parker. That will be all.”
Ian watched his good friend lift a curious brow and shrug big wide shoulders before turning to get back on the elevator. As soon as the elevator door closed, Ian’s attention returned to Brooke. She had moved across the room and was standing with her back to him, staring at a framed photo of him and Tiger Woods and another of him and Dennis Rodman.
She surprised him when she broke the silence by saying, “I heard Tiger and Dennis have homes in this area.”
Ian arched a brow. So she wanted to make small talk, did she? He shouldn’t have been surprised. Brooke had a tendency to start babbling whenever she was placed in what she considered a nervous situation. He’d actually found it endearing the night of their first date. But now it was annoying as hell.
He didn’t want her to make small talk. He didn’t want her there, period, which brought him back to the reason she was here in his office. He wanted answers and he wanted them now.
“I didn’t have Vance bring you up here to discuss the residences of Woods and Rodman. I want to know what the hell you’re doing here, Brooke.”
The moment of reckoning had finally arrived. Brooke had grabbed the chance to take her eyes off Ian when he’d all but ordered Vance Parker to leave them alone. Although she had prepared for this moment from the day she’d left Malcolm’s office, she still wasn’t totally ready for the encounter. Yet there was nothing she could do but turn around and hope that one day, if he ever found out the truth, he would forgive the lie she was about to tell.
On a sigh, she slowly turned, and the moment she did so their eyes locked with more intensity than they had earlier when Vance had been present. Her internal temperature suddenly shot sky high, and every cell in her body felt fried from the sweltering heat that suddenly consumed her.
Words momentarily failed her since Ian had literally taken her breath away. He had always been a good-looking man, and today, three years since she’d seen him last, he was doubly so; especially with the neatly trimmed beard he was sporting. He’d always had that drop-dead-gorgeous and let-me-bed-you-before-I-die look. He’d been a man who’d always been able to grab the attention of women. And now this older Ian was a man who exuded raw, masculine sexuality.
When she had returned to Atlanta to take the job as one of Dare Westmoreland’s deputies, she had heard about the two Westmoreland cousins who were the same age and ran together in what women had called a wolf pack. Ian and his cousin Storm had reputations around Atlanta of being ultimate players, the epitome of legendary lovers. Storm had been dubbed the Perfect Storm and Ian, the Perfect End.
It was rumored that any woman who went out with Ian got the perfect ending to their evening, after sharing a bed with him. But all that had changed when he’d begun showing interest in her. He’d called her a hard nut to crack; she’d been one of the few women to rebuff his charm.
Instead of willingly falling under his spell like other women, she’d placed it on him to earn his way into her bed. The result had been two years of being the exclusive recipient of his special brand of sexual expertise.
The rumors hadn’t been wrong, but neither had they been completely right. She had discovered that not only was Ian the Perfect End but he was the Perfect Beginning as well. No one could wake a woman up each morning the way he could. The memories of their lovemaking sessions could still curl her toes and wet her panties. He had been her first lover and, she thought further, her only lover.
“Are you going to stand there and say nothing or are you going to answer my question, Brooke?”
Ian’s question reclaimed Brooke’s attention and reminded her why she was there. And with the angry tone of his voice all the memories they’d ever shared were suddenly crushed. Placing her hands on her hips she answered with the same curt tone he’d used on her. “I’ll gladly answer your question, Ian.”