Dreams of Forever: Seduction, Westmoreland StyleSpencer's Forbidden Passion Page 20

  He looked up into her face. “The winery?”

  She felt a thick lump in her throat as she nodded and brushed moisture off his forehead. “The winery is going to stay with us. We got approved for the loan, remember?”

  He nodded again and a slight smile formed on his lips. “We’re going to keep it.”

  She blinked back more tears. “Yes, we’re going to keep it.”

  “For your kids.”

  A smile touched her lips. Even in his condition, he was again dropping hints about her personal life. “Yes, one day for my kids.”

  “My great-grands.”

  “Yes, Gramps, your great-grands.” She watched as his eyes closed. He was dozing off again, apparently being tired out from talking to her.

  “Miss, I hate to interrupt but your five minutes are up,” a nurse stuck her head in the door and said, smiling apologetically.

  “Thanks, I’m leaving.” Leaning over she placed a kiss on her grandfather’s cheek, then clutched the shoulder strap of her purse as she left the room.

  * * *

  Spencer stared down into the dark red depth of his wine before swirling it around in the glass. Russell Vineyards’ finest. Last night Chardonnay had referred to it as superb and he had to admit she was right. He’d never had a reason to taste the wine before last night but now he was mildly surprised. He hadn’t expected such a fruity, yet tartly smooth taste. He found it incredibly pleasing to his palate.

  Instead of sipping he put the glass to his lips and thought, what the hell. He had ordered it. Room service had delivered it. And at the moment, he needed it. He took a rather large gulp and then licked his lips while the warmth of the liquid flowed straight through his body to settle in a part of him right below the belt.

  Seemingly sensual. Definitely erotic.

  It was then, and only then, that he took the time to fully recall every vivid moment of the scene that had played out at the hospital with Chardonnay. A hard muscle twitched in his cheek. She had wrongly accused him, but instead of defending himself, he had walked away. He had discovered last night that once Chardonnay became upset about something, the woman was downright hard to deal with…even when her facts were wrong.

  But unlike his attorney, Stuart, he had no intentions of letting her test the level of his endurance or get on his last nerve. After all he still intended, whether she liked it or not, to marry her. She just wasn’t making things easy for him, which meant he would continue to make things hard for her.

  He crossed the room to gaze out the window in an attempt to calm his frustrated mind. The abundance of land his eyes touched was incredible, amazing, simply beautiful. The sun was sending golden highlights across the valley in a way that was astounding and peaceful.

  As if to break that peace, his mind went back to Chardonnay. He loathed the very idea that she thought he would intentionally bring her grandfather harm. If she knew how much he had cherished and loved his own grandfather, she would know how totally wrong she was. Scott Westmoreland had made an impact on all of his grandchildren’s lives, making them believe that they could fulfill their dreams, no matter what they were. Like Chardonnay’s grandfather, he had been a master, not at wine but at food. His reputation as a cook and restaurant owner was legendary. And Spencer had loved him as deeply as Chardonnay loved her grandfather.

  He turned away from the window when his cell phone rang. Thinking it was Stuart or one of his brothers, he answered. “Yes?”

  “I owe you an apology.”

  Spencer felt a deep tingling in the pit of his stomach the moment he heard Chardonnay’s voice. There was just something incredibly sexy about it. However, the effect it had on him was too intense for his frame of mind, and resentment set in. For a moment he didn’t know what to say since he never expected her to call to apologize. “Do you?” he finally replied in a clipped tone.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m sure it’s something you don’t do often. Do you really know how it’s done?”

  There was a slight hesitation on her part and then she said in an irritated tone, “Look, I don’t need this.”

  He’d gotten her mad. Good. “And neither do I, Chardonnay. I don’t like being falsely accused of anything.”

  “I told you I was sorry. What else do you want?”

  “Have you decided to indulge me in the things I want?” he retorted coolly, waiting for her response, knowing it would probably be just as biting and sharp as his had been.

  “You have got to be the most—”

  “Be careful what you say, Chardonnay, or you might very well be apologizing for a second time.” He was taunting her and he knew it. She had pushed a number of buttons that no other woman had pushed before and he didn’t like it.

  “I think we need to end this conversation,” she said brusquely.

  “I don’t. The reason I was at your home earlier today was that I felt we needed to talk. I still feel that way,” he said.

  “Maybe some other time.”

  “No. Tonight.”

  For a moment she didn’t say anything and then asked, “And if I refuse?”

  “Then either way, you can kiss the winery goodbye.” He had said the words calmly, but Spencer was fully aware she knew he meant them.

  “One day you’ll regret what you’re doing.”

  She was probably right but as long as that day wasn’t today he was fine. “We’ll do dinner at seven, here at the resort. I’m staying at the Chablis.” He also knew his words probably sounded like an order.

  An incredulous smile touched his lips when he heard the sound of the phone clicking in his ear. That wasn’t a dropped call. She had deliberately hung up on him.

  * * *

  Hours later, Donnay murmured not so nice things about Spencer under her breath when she headed down the stairs. Spending time with him again was not something she wanted to do. The less she saw of the infuriating man the better. However, she had to admit that they did need to talk. She just didn’t want to do it tonight.

  “There you are,” her grandmother said, smiling. “I was just about to come up and get you. The car has arrived.”

  Donnay lifted a brow. “What car?”

  “The one Mr. Westmoreland sent for you. It’s parked outside.”

  As soon as her feet stepped off the bottom stair Donnay walked over to the window and looked out. That same limo from the night before was parked outside. Why had he sent a car for her? Spencer said they would be dining at the Chablis, the luxury resort on two hundred acres of land that overlooked the Mayacamas Mountains and provided a stunning view of Napa Valley.

  She turned to her grandmother wondering if she knew what was going on.

  “Is Spencer outside waiting in the parked car, Grammy?”

  “No, he sent his driver for you. The man came to the door to let us know he was here, and said he’d been instructed to take you to Mr. Westmoreland at the Chablis.”

  Donnay looked outside again at the limo and shook her head. The man really did have a lot of nerve. She turned back to her grandmother. “I’m using my own car.”

  She walked across the room and gave her grandmother a peck on the cheek. “I’ll have my cell phone on if you need me.”

  They had already checked with the hospital and her grandfather was still resting peacefully. Her grandmother had wanted to spend the night with him but they had talked her out of it.

  Donnay glanced around. “Where’s Mom?”

  “She went out.”

  Again? Donnay lifted a brow. Evidently that friend her mother had met for coffee last night was still in town. “Will you be okay here alone, Grammy?” she asked with concern.

  Her grandmother waved off her worries. “Of course. Go on and enjoy the evening with your young man.”

  Donnay frowned, doubt
ing that she would. “Well, if you’re sure you’ll be okay, I’ll go and let the limo driver know I’m taking my own car.”

  “All right, dear.”

  Grabbing her purse off the table Donnay quickly walked out the door. She strolled down the long walkway to the chauffeur and smiled up at him. “Hello, I’m Chardonnay Russell, and I won’t need your services since I’m driving my own car.”

  The man’s face remained expressionless when he said, “Mr. Westmoreland instructed me that if you were to refuse my services, madam, to give you this,” he said, presenting a sealed envelope to her.

  Frowning, she took it from the man, quickly opened it up and pulled out the note.

  I prefer that you do things my way, Chardonnay. For your safety, comfort and convenience, I have sent the car for you and I expect you to use it. Failure to do so means all talks are off, including my backing that loan. Spencer.

  A part of her wanted to say good riddance, but she knew she couldn’t do that, especially after she had assured her grandfather today that all was well with the vineyard.

  Keeping her irritation in check, she glanced at the driver and gave him a small smile. “It seems I’ll be using your services tonight, after all.”

  Chapter 5

  His dinner guest had arrived.

  A semblance of a smile danced across Spencer’s lips as he reached for his jacket on the back of the sofa and put it on. He’d figured that Chardonnay would refuse to ride in the limo so he had taken the necessary steps to deny her a choice. It might have appeared underhanded on his part but he could not entertain thoughts of her driving back home alone late at night.

  The moment the limo came to a stop, he walked out the front door of the two-story cottage he was occupying. Standing in the doorway he watched the driver walk around the front of the impressive shining black automobile to open the rear door. The windows were tinted so Spencer couldn’t see Chardonnay, which he figured was just as well since chances were she wasn’t too happy with him about now. She was a woman who didn’t like being told what to do, especially when he was the one doing the telling.

  He continued to watch as the chauffeur presented her his hand and she stepped out of the car. Tonight she was wearing her hair up and several strands had escaped confinement and were curling around her face. To his disappointment she was wearing a pair of slacks, which meant he wouldn’t be ogling her legs tonight. Too bad, they were such a stunning pair, too gorgeous to be hidden.

  His senses remained locked on her every movement and when she glanced his way, a frown settled on her features. He was tempted to cover the distance separating them and kiss that frown right off her face. Instead he continued to stand there, portraying an expression of nonchalance when he felt anything but.

  Seeing her again was having one hell of an effect on him, an effect he was struggling to control. Lust in itself was a killer, a yearning of the worst kind. But when you mixed it with obsession, especially one that kept you from thinking straight, you were in deep trouble. The bottom line was that he wanted her. At almost any price. However, she would be the last person to know since that kind of information in her hands would be tantamount to lethal.

  “Glad to see you arrive in the car I sent, Chardonnay,” he said when she began walking toward him. He tried deciphering her mood and quickly reached the conclusion that she was definitely not a happy camper.

  “Did I have a choice?” she asked curtly when she stopped in front of him, tilting her head back to look directly into his eyes.

  “No,” he said simply, truthfully, before moving aside to let her enter. It was either that or be done in by the turbulent depths of the stormy gray gaze that narrowed at him. His restraint not to reach out and pull her into his arms to smooth her ruffled feathers was weak.

  “I thought we were having dinner.”

  She was standing in the middle of the living room, glancing around. Evidently she had expected to see a table set for two and had noted there wasn’t one. He moved toward her, deliberately slow, fighting back the urge to let his gaze slide over her from head to toe. She looked good in her black slacks and a turquoise top. The shade, he thought, complemented her coloring. Since the evenings and nights in the valley could get rather chilly, she had brought a tweed jacket, which was slung over her arms.

  “We are having dinner,” he said. “But I didn’t want the food to get cold before you arrived. It won’t take long for room service to set things up, and I hope you enjoy the entrée I ordered for us.”

  She glared at him. “And if I don’t?”

  She was itching for a fight and he sure as hell had no intentions of obliging her. He was getting used to her moods. Besides, he would be calming whatever storm was brewing inside of her soon enough. Therefore, he responded to her question with a dispassionate shrug and said, “Then I suggest you don’t eat it.”

  He saw the way her lips tightened into an even deeper frown. “Do you always manage to have things your way?” she asked coolly.

  “On the contrary,” he replied, thinking if that was true she would be in his bed this very moment.

  “There are some things I find myself doing without,” he added, sliding his hands into his pockets so he wouldn’t be tempted to reach out and pull her into his arms, capture her mouth beneath his, and touch her all over. The thought of doing any of those things had his heartbeat accelerating.

  To counteract the effect, he nodded toward the huge window and said. “So, what do you think of the view?”

  She followed his gaze and an unexpected smile touched her lips, making his guts clench. “It’s beautiful,” she said with something akin to spellbinding awe in her voice. “But then this is home for me and I’ve always thought the valley was the most exquisite place to live.”

  “I’m beginning to believe that, although I love my home in Sausalito.”

  She turned back around, and met his gaze with an arched brow. “You live in Sausalito?”

  “Yes. You sound surprised.”

  “I am. I thought you would prefer the fast pace of San Francisco instead of the quietness of a small town.”

  He chuckled. “I grew up in a fast-paced town—Atlanta. I always wanted to live someplace peaceful and serene.”

  “I’m surprised such a thing doesn’t bore you.”

  “I’m sure there’s a lot about me that would surprise you, Chardonnay.”

  Her expression was one of indifference, and a part of him was determined to change that. “Make yourself comfortable while I call for dinner.”

  She didn’t verbally acknowledge what he said. Instead she moved toward the sofa and sat down. He felt perspiration form on his brow while watching her graceful movement, appreciating the way her hips swayed, the slender curves of her body.

  Deciding he needed to do something with his hands, he picked up the residence phone. “This is Spencer Westmoreland. You can deliver dinner now.”

  “When will we talk, Spencer?”

  She asked the question the moment he’d hung up the phone. He met her gaze, saw the gray glint that was still ready for combat. His pure male persona was fighting an inner war not to put his plan of seduction in place before it was time. “We’ll talk after dinner,” he replied.

  She reluctantly nodded and he knew that he would need as much strength as possible, because in dealing with Chardonnay Russell, only the strongest would survive.

  * * *

  Donnay drew a long, deep breath as she tried to keep her eyes off Spencer. It was hard. He had received a phone call and she’d been glad for the slight reprieve. Now she had time to study him without him being aware that she was doing so. He was rich, powerful and suave, and dressed in a pair of expensive trousers, a white designer shirt and a smooth-cut suede blazer. He definitely looked the part of a millionaire.

  In addition to all t
hat, he was magnificently built: tall, strong and masculine. The perfect male specimen. His very presence was causing emotions to flood her that were better left alone. The man was a predator. He was ruthless and lethal all rolled into one, but at that moment she thought he was the most desirable man she had ever come close to knowing. With a snap of his fingers he could destroy her and her family’s livelihood. And she couldn’t let that happen. What she wanted, what she needed to know was why he wanted to marry her. Why he wanted her to have his children. The man was as rich as he was good-looking, so finding a woman to fulfill his every need shouldn’t be a problem. So why her?

  “I just received good news from home,” he said, hanging up his cell phone and reclaiming her thoughts.

  She mentally shook off seeing the smile on his lips, the one that sent blood rushing through her veins. “And what is the good news?”

  “Thorn and Tara’s son came three weeks early.”

  “Is he okay?”

  Spencer chuckled. “The baby and Tara are doing fine. However, I’m not sure about Thorn. I just finished talking to him and I think he’s still in a daze. He was there with Tara during the delivery and said it was an awesome experience.”

  “I’m sure it was.”

  He didn’t say anything for a moment, but his features held a pensive look. And then, as if he’d made his mind up about something, he crossed the room and halted directly in front of where she sat on the sofa. “That’s what I want, Chardonnay.”

  Donnay met his gaze. As far as she was concerned the man wanted a lot of things and it was hard to keep up. “And what is it that you want?”

  He stared at her for a moment and then said, “I want to be there when my wife gives birth to our child.”

  To her surprise, his voice was gentle. Her senses registered his sincerity. And the look in his eyes was intense. Too intense. It was actually sizzling her insides. She hadn’t expected that and lifted her head, narrowing her eyes. “Then I suggest you let the woman you intend to marry know that.”