Dreams of Forever: Seduction, Westmoreland StyleSpencer's Forbidden Passion Read online

  She drew in a deep breath when he stretched his arms across the back of the seat. “I really wasn’t sure you would go out with me tonight,” he said in a throaty tone.

  Her senses became focused fully on him when she said, “I’m a woman full of surprises, Mr. Westmoreland, and there’s one I intend to share with you later.”

  “Is there?”

  “Yes.”

  She saw his gaze study hers intently before he said, “You have beautiful eyes.”

  She could respond by echoing the compliment, but instead she decided to play it safe. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. You’re also a gorgeous woman.”

  She slanted him a cool glance. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him she was too levelheaded to fall for sweet talk. She wondered why he was wasting his time and couldn’t imagine what he hoped to gain by using such flattery. It might work on other women but not on her.

  “I must thank you for a second time, Mr. Westmoreland.”

  “Let’s dispense with the formality. Call me Spencer.”

  She nodded. “All right, and I’m Donnay.”

  He smiled. “I like Chardonnay better.”

  She mentally shook aside the sexiness in his voice when he said her name. The scent of grapes, she noticed, had been replaced with the scent of man. Whatever cologne he was wearing was manly, robust and sexy. She knew for some woman he would probably be the perfect lover since there was no doubt he would be good at anything he attempted.

  “Chardonnay.”

  She glanced up and saw his gaze was focused exclusively on her. She wondered what he was staring at so intently. Then she realized her lips had captured his attention and were holding it. She drew in a quick breath and felt a stirring begin in her stomach and slowly spread to all parts of her. And then there had been the way he’d said her name. Placing emphasis on certain syllables in a way no other man ever had, giving it an undeniably sensuous sound.

  She parted her lips to draw in a much needed breath, and in a daring move he leaned closer and darted out his tongue to moisten her lips, before capturing her mouth with his. The contact had been so unexpected, so sudden, that instead of pulling away she felt every cell in her body vibrate under the onslaught of a combustible combination of overzealous hormones and much-

  deprived lust.

  It was too late to revamp her senses. Too late to think about resisting. The moment his tongue touched hers she was a goner and she had a feeling that with his arrogant, utterly confident self, he very well knew it. What other reason could there be for him deepening the kiss and pulling her closer to him in such a way that had her moaning sounds she’d never heard before.

  No man had ever kissed her this way. So completely, so totally, so downright absolutely. The kiss aroused her, stimulated her like none before. She responded to his actions on instinct and not experience. Her tongue had never participated in a kiss the way it was doing now, emanating a need within her that she didn’t understand. But evidently he did, because the more she greedily demanded from him, the more he gave.

  Suddenly he pulled back, and disappointment poured through her like cold water on overly heated skin. She noted she was draped over him, practically in his lap. And he was staring at her with an intensity that held both longing and possession. She knew at that moment, as she tried pulling herself back together and away from him, that she was out of her league. And to think she’d actually thought she could handle him.

  “Your taste is one I’ll never forget, Chardonnay.”

  She focused her full attention on him when he added, “And one I intend to indulge in time and time again.”

  His words were filled with confidence, as if barring any opposition or debate. By the same token, her reaction to them was immediate and instinctual. “I disagree.”

  He shook his head and smiled at her. It was a smile that touched his lips, corner to corner. “That’s your prerogative. But the way I see things, your loyalty will be your downfall, but then at the same time it’s what sets you apart from all others. It’s what I admire most about you.”

  She frowned, not understanding what he was saying or what he meant. Before she could ask, he glanced out the car window and said, “We’ve arrived at our destination and I prefer resuming this discussion over dinner.”

  Chapter 3

  Spencer knew he had selected the right restaurant the moment he led Chardonnay through the doors. The ambiance alone deserved the establishment’s five-star rating.

  Situated on a grassy slope in the heart of the Napa Valley, the huge European-style structure boasted elaborate stone and brickwork. The interior glistened with holiday decorations. Even on a Tuesday night the place was packed, and he couldn’t help but note that more than a few males looked his way with envy in their eyes. More on instinct than anything else, he entwined his arm with Chardonnay’s. When she gave him a questioning look, he smiled and said, “I made reservations so we shouldn’t have long to wait.”

  No sooner had he said the words then the maître d’ appeared to escort them through the throng of well-dressed patrons to a private room in the back of the restaurant. Brick walls with dark wooden beams and cast-iron chandeliers that hung overhead created a romantic setting.

  After being seated at the only table in the room they were given a wine list and their menus. They were informed that a waiter would arrive shortly to take their wine selection and dinner order.

  Moments later he was alone with Chardonnay. Spencer glanced up at her face, trying to read her expression as well as guess her thoughts. He knew he had surprised her when he had touched her arm with such possessiveness. Hell, he had surprised himself. Never had he been jealous of another male’s attention to any woman he was with. It wasn’t in his makeup to do such a thing.

  Giving himself a few moments to clear his rattled mind, he followed her gaze around the room. It was quaint and cozy, almost completely surrounded in tinted glass, and it provided a beautiful illuminated view of an outdoor gazebo that was surrounded by thick shrubs, blossoming flowers and running vines.

  “The room is lovely.”

  Chardonnay’s comment caught his attention and he met her gaze. It was on the tip of his tongue to say that the room had nothing on her. “Yes, it is,” he said instead. The taste of her was still on his lips and he doubted even the strongest drink would be able to remove it. He had enjoyed kissing her, sliding his arms around her and holding her close to him while he mated with her mouth at will. And when her arms had wrapped around him, and he’d heard the soft moans from her throat, he had done what had come naturally. Deepened the kiss even more.

  Not that he was complaining, but the intimate exchange had lasted longer than he had intended. All sense of time and place had flown from his mind in the awakening lust that had consumed his body. And when she had stretched up against him, he had effortlessly pulled her into his lap without disengaging their mouths.

  His thoughts came to an abrupt end when the waiter brought in glasses of water and then took the time to take their wine and dinner order. They both agreed on a veal dish and a bottle of Russell Chianti.

  “Have you ever tasted our wine before?” Chardonnay asked after the waiter had left, leaving them alone again.

  He shook his head. “No, but I understand it’s delicious.”

  She frowned. “It’s more than delicious. It’s superb. The best in the land.”

  He chuckled. “You would say that but I’ll see for myself in a minute.” He then leaned back in his chair. “What exactly do you do at the winery?”

  She shrugged. “A little bit of everything, depending on the season. I handle PR during the winter months—spring and summer I work the vineyard, pruning, planting and I even know how to operate the equipment to crush and ferment the grapes. In the fall I take on the role of wine taster. So
I guess you can say I enjoy wearing several different hats.”

  After taking a sip of her water, she asked, “Why are you interested in what I do?”

  He smiled, wondering if she was always so suspicious of people or just him. Then again, she had good reason to be. “Um, just curious.”

  She placed her glass down and met his gaze. “And I’m just as curious, Spencer,” she said, leaning forward and saying his given name for the first time. “What is tonight all about? Why did you invite me to dinner?”

  He leaned forward as well and countered by asking in a low, husky voice, “Why did you accept?”

  She slowly drew back and lifted her chin. “Because there was something I wanted to tell you.”

  “What?”

  She inclined her head toward the closed door. “I prefer we wait for our food, especially the wine, since what I have to say is a cause to celebrate.”

  He lifted a brow. “Is it?”

  “Yes, I think so.”

  “All right, then. In the meantime tell me about yourself.”

  He immediately saw defiance light her gray eyes before she said. “I already have. It’s your turn.”

  Spencer started to say she was wrong. She hadn’t told him everything about herself. Since she would eventually become his wife, he had an urge to know a whole lot more. However, he said, “I’m a Westmoreland.”

  The smile that touched her lips stirred something deep in the pit of his stomach. “And that’s supposed to mean something?” she asked, seemingly amused.

  He shared her smile and felt rather comfortable in doing so. “In Atlanta it does. Just like your family has deep roots here, mine has deep roots in Atlanta. My cousin Dare is sheriff of College Park, a suburb of Atlanta. And my cousin Thorn Westmoreland is—”

  “The man who builds motorcycles and races them, as well,” she finished for him, smiling brightly. “I didn’t make the name connection until now. I used to have a poster of him on my bedroom wall when I was sixteen. Boy was he hot.”

  Spencer chuckled. “I understand there are some women who think he still is. He’s happily married, and he and his wife, Tara, are expecting their first baby later this month. It’s going to be a boy.”

  “That’s wonderful. And what about siblings? Do you have any?”

  “Yes, I have an older brother, Jared, and four younger brothers—Durango, Ian, Quade and Reggie.”

  “They all live in Atlanta?”

  “Jared and Reggie do. Ian lives in Lake Tahoe and Quade works for the government in D.C.”

  “Really, what sort of work does he do?”

  “Quade works in security at the White House. Because of the high level of security entailed, we’re not really sure what he does and he’s never divulged any details.” And so she wouldn’t ask any more questions about Quade’s job, he asked a question of his own. “What about you? Is it just you, your mother and grandparents?” he asked.

  “Yes, and the four of us are very close.”

  “And your father?”

  She shrugged. “I never knew him and he never knew me. End of story.”

  Spencer knew it was the end of the story only because she deemed it to be. At that moment the waiter returned with their wine. After he filled their glasses and left the room, a smiling Chardonnay held hers up for a toast. “To Russell Vineyards, may we last forever, and with the loan we got approved today from the bank, we are well on our way of doing just that.”

  She glanced at him over the rim of the glass as she then took a sip, smiling. Spencer knew she was feeling really good right now, thinking she had just burst his bubble.

  She lifted a brow as she put her glass down, evidently disappointed that she had failed to get a rise out of him. “Well?”

  He lifted his own brow. “Well, what?”

  “Don’t you have anything to say?”

  He smiled and then replied, “Yes, I have quite a lot to say, but I prefer to do so after we enjoy our meal. I wouldn’t want any words we might exchange to ruin our dinner.”

  Apparently thinking she had succeeded in getting him riled after all, she leaned back in her chair and said smugly, “You’ll get over it.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  He watched as she drew her breath, saw how her lips curved in a frown. She leaned forward again. “It will be a waste of your time since there is nothing you can do about it.”

  The waiter entered with their food. Spencer smiled at her and said, “Our dinner has arrived, Chardonnay. Please hold your thoughts until after our meal. Then I will tell you why you’re wrong.”

  * * *

  Donnay declined dessert, thinking she was tired of this cat-and-mouse game she and Spencer were playing. During the drive over, she had felt elated, confident, thrilled at the prospect that he would be experiencing a letdown like he hadn’t felt in a while, given what she had read about him. He should be totally disappointed, frustrated and probably more than a little upset to learn Russell Vineyards was completely out of his reach. Instead it didn’t appear that the news had affected him at all, which made her wonder if perhaps he knew something that she didn’t.

  And then there was the kiss she couldn’t get out of her mind. The one that still had her insides sizzling. His lips had connected to hers in a way that immediately set off a rush of heat within her. And the chemistry that had been stirred between them was as potent as anything she’d ever felt before. His taste had literally zapped her of her senses and it was taking everything she had to get her entire body back on track.

  Not able to handle the tension or curiosity any longer, she tilted her head up and looked into his face. “Tell me why you think I’m wrong, Spencer.”

  She watched him set aside his wineglass. He then eased his wallet out of his jacket pocket and withdrew a business card. He offered it to her.

  Donnay took it, studied the information that was printed on it before looking back at him with a questioning look. “What am I supposed to be looking at?”

  “My profession.”

  She glanced at the card again before raising her head to meet his gaze. “Financial management investor?”

  “Yes. Like you, I enjoy wearing several different hats,” he said, putting his wallet back in his pocket.

  Donnay sat straighter in the chair. Their gazes held for a long time when she finally asked, “Meaning what?”

  Spencer continued to hold Chardonnay’s gaze. There was no doubt in his mind that she wouldn’t like what he was about to say. She would probably like even less the proposal he intended to offer her. For a fleeting instant he thought of undoing all he’d done; let her and her family keep the land and just walk away. He knew that although he could walk away from the land, he could not walk away from her. Spending time with her tonight had only solidified his interest, attraction and desire. He wanted her with a passion unlike anything he’d ever known.

  He met her eyes as intently and said, “Earlier you said your family had managed to secure a loan.”

  “Yes, it’s been approved.”

  “I know it has.”

  “And how would you know that?”

  When he didn’t answer her right away, she repeated the question. “How would you know that, Spencer?”

  He leaned back in his chair. “Banks offer loans to individuals that sometimes have to be underwritten by a third party because of their risky nature.”

  He gave it a few moments and then he saw the light that came on in her eyes, letting him know she was finally getting the picture. That same light suddenly flared with fury when she asked. “Are you saying you’re the one who underwrote the loan?”

  He answered her, deciding to speak slowly and deliberately, making sure she understood completely. “Yes. The bank couldn’t find any other investor to do it. So basically, once
you sign the loan papers I’ll be the one holding the mortgage to the vineyard.”

  His words had the effect he knew they would. Her eyes hardened and began shooting fire at him. “You want our land that much?” she asked in a tone he knew she was trying to control.

  He decided to be completely honest. “Yes, but there’s something else I want, Chardonnay, and it has become even more important to me than Russell Vineyards.”

  “And what is that?”

  He only paused a second before saying, “You.”

  * * *

  It took Chardonnay a few moments to gather her composure. And she couldn’t help inhaling a deep breath several times before asking what may have been a relatively stupid question. “For what purpose?”

  He took his time in answering her. “I want to marry you and give you my child. In fact, several of them.”

  She gasped first in surprise, then in outrage. “Do you honestly think I will go along with a notion as crazy as that?”

  “Yes. You will if you want to keep your family winery,” he said, looking her straight in the eye. “Evidently you don’t fully understand your family’s predicament, Chardonnay. Without the backing of a third party, no bank will agree to loan you the amount of money your family needs. You’ve depleted a lot of the business assets, not to mention you continue to be a mom-and-pop operation that has been operating in the red most of this year. However,” he continued, “I’m willing to guarantee the loan for whatever amount you need. And to show what a generous person I am, I’m giving you two options. You can take out the loan but it will have to be paid back in full within six months.”

  “Six months!”

  “Yes. If you default on the loan, everything will be mine. Or you can consider the second option. Agree to marry me and have my child and I will let you continue to run and operate the winery as you see fit. In fact I will put a lot of my money behind you to expand the winery to an international one.”