Dreams of Forever: Seduction, Westmoreland StyleSpencer's Forbidden Passion
Page 17
He couldn’t help but smile when he thought of all the babies born in the Westmoreland family just this year. His cousin Delaney and her husband, Sheikh Jamal Ari Yasir, had given birth to their second child, a girl, whom they had named Arielle. His cousin Dare and his wife Shelley also had a daughter born in August. Durango and his wife Savannah had been blessed with a daughter in September; and his cousins Thorn and Stone and their wives were expecting new additions to the family, as well. Thorn and Tara’s baby was to be born at the end of the month, and Stone and Madison were expecting their firstborn in February.
Spencer restarted the car’s engine. As he continued the journey to the Chablis, the resort where he was staying, he knew the next time he and Chardonnay’s paths crossed, he would be making her an offer. And this would not be one that she would refuse. He would make damn sure of it. He was now a man on a mission. He was also a man who was known to go after whatever he wanted and didn’t let up until he succeeded in getting it.
And what he wanted with Chardonnay was a merger of the most intimate kind.
Chapter 2
“You have a phone call, Donnay.”
Busy in the winery doing inventory, Donnay quickly turned and glanced at her mother. “The bank?”
Ruth shook her head, an anxious look on her face, “No, it’s not the bank. I believe it’s Mr. Westmoreland,” she said handing her daughter the phone.
Donnay sighed deeply. Why hadn’t her mother told the man she wasn’t available? She was well aware that Spencer Westmoreland had gotten on her daughter’s last nerve yesterday. “Thanks a lot, Mom,” she said sarcastically, taking the phone. “Why didn’t you tell him I wasn’t here?” she whispered, placing a hand over the mouthpiece.
“But, his call might be important.”
She rolled her eyes and gave a little huff under her breath. “I doubt it. The man just wants to harass me some more.” She placed the phone to her ear when her mother left the room.
The last thing Donnay wanted to do was talk to the man whose image was still blatantly clear in her mind. Although she hadn’t wanted to, she had thought about him after he had left yesterday, and even worse, she had thought about him last night. She had made the mistake of noticing how much of a man he was instead of concentrating on what a forceful, imposing individual he represented. That was one mistake she wouldn’t make twice.
“This is Ms. Russell,” she said rather gruffly.
“Ms. Russell, this is Spencer Westmoreland. I’m calling to ask if you would have dinner with me tonight.”
Arousing sensations automatically flowed through Donnay’s body at the seductive tone in his voice. She fought the feelings, not quite sure what to make of the man. She pursed her lips, trying to decide whether to hang up or continue the conversation.
She inwardly sighed before saying, “Mr. Westmoreland, why would I want to have dinner with you?”
“To save your family’s winery.”
Donnay’s arched brow rose a fraction. “I hate to shatter your illusions but Russell Vineyards doesn’t need saving.”
“Are you absolutely sure about that?”
Donnay leaned back against a wine rack. No, she wasn’t absolutely sure; especially since she hadn’t heard back from the bank. Mr. Gordon had indicated he would let her know something by noon today. Although she felt fairly confident they would get the loan, she also felt it would be in her best interest to see what Spencer Westmoreland might have up his sleeve.
“I’m willing to listen to what you have to say. However, it doesn’t have to be over dinner.”
“For me it does. That’s the way I conduct most of my business meetings.”
Her words were edged with anger when she asked, “And what if I prefer not having dinner with you?”
“Then you don’t get to hear what I have to offer.”
Donnay tipped her head back. The man had offered a lot of money for the vineyard yesterday, more money than she or her family could have ever expected. “Do you not recall me telling you yesterday that we aren’t interested in any offer you make?” she asked bluntly.
She could hear his soft chuckle and liked the sound of it. “I do, but I’m hoping that I can change your mind,” he said.
“That’s not possible, Mr. Westmoreland. Like I told you, the vineyard is no longer for sale.”
“And you’re willing to turn your back on my offer on the chance that some banker is going to come through for you?”
An intense degree of uneasiness prickled Donnay’s skin. “What do you know about my dealings with any banker?” Her stomach churned as suspicion raised its ugly head.
“I merely assumed as much since a few weeks ago your family was desperate to sell the winery and now you’re not. Besides, I make it my business to know the financial position of any potential business partners.”
She didn’t like the sound of that. “We aren’t partners, potential or otherwise.”
“If you want to believe that, go ahead. Now back to dinner. We’ll go to Sedrick’s. I’ll be there to pick you up around six. Is that acceptable?”
She wished she could tell him that it was not acceptable, but as she stared out the window at the lush vineyard in the distance, she knew doing so might not be a smart move. She had no intentions of ever parting with the vineyard she was looking at, no matter how confident Spencer Westmoreland seemed to be. She had a feeling he was up to something and there was only one way to find out what. “Yes, six will be fine.”
“Wonderful. I’ll see you then.”
As soon as he clicked off the line Donnay wasted no time contacting Wayne Gordon at the bank. Her stomach settled when he told her he had good news for her. The loan her family had applied for had been approved. Donnay felt happiness all the way to her toes. Spencer Westmoreland hadn’t bested them after all. That remark he’d made earlier about her business with the bank had been meant to throw her off, emitting smoke when there really wasn’t any fire. Their money worries were now over. She would pull out a bottle of their finest wine and her family would celebrate.
A smile touched her lips. She would take great joy in letting Mr. Westmoreland know she expected him to get out of their lives forever. And she couldn’t think of a better opportunity to tell him than that night over dinner.
* * *
Spencer smiled as he settled comfortably in the back seat of the limousine he had hired for the night.
The call he had received earlier from Stuart had him in high spirits. Things were definitely going as he had planned. Thinking about the offer he would make to Chardonnay later tonight sent heat all through him. The thought that he would be the one who made love to her with the full purpose of giving her his child practically had his loins on fire. Of course, not for one minute did he assume she would go along with his proposal.
His lips curved into another smile. There was no doubt in his mind that she would turn him down flat, fight him with every breath she took, which was why he intended to give her no choice in the matter. Not if she really wanted to retain possession of her family’s winery.
He glanced out the tinted window, seeing the beauty of the countryside of the Napa Valley. He had fallen in love with California the first time he had visited over twenty years ago after accepting a scholarship to attend Southern California University. As much as he loved Atlanta, California had eventually become his permanent home. After obtaining a bachelor’s degree in finance and then a M.B.A., he began a career in banking at one of the most prestigious financial institutions in San Francisco.
He loved going back home to Atlanta for family gatherings, but always looked forward to returning to Sausalito, the charming waterfront community that was located just across the Golden Gate Bridge. The town was often compared to the French Riviera because of its Mediterranean flair and breathtaking views.
 
; His house, a distinguished looking two-story structure, sat on four acres of land with beautiful San Francisco and Bay views. But he had to admit there was something peaceful and charming about Napa Valley. Away from the hustle and bustle of traffic, it was an idyllic setting. The perfect place to settle down and raise a family.
His mind was set, his agenda clear. It was not in his nature to tolerate resistance when it came to meeting any of his goals. And this time would not be an exception.
* * *
Chardonnay stared at her reflection in the huge mirror, wondering why she was putting so much effort in looking good tonight, granted Sedrick’s was a very elegant and sophisticated restaurant.
She turned slightly and smiled. The strapless, backless black dress made of a sheer material clung to her hips, showing curves she had a tendency to forget she had until she dressed up in a manner such as this. She couldn’t remember the last time she had gone out on a real date with a man. After that fiasco with Robert Joseph, her former college professor whom she had fancied herself in love with a few years back, she had a tendency to watch herself around men, especially those who thought they had it all together and expected women to fall in place and cater to their every whim.
She had been twenty-four and in her last year at UCLA, earning a degree in horticulture, when she had met Robert, a divorcé fifteen years her senior. The older man had dazzled her, swept her off her feet and into an affair that had lasted almost a year. A month before she was to graduate, he broke the news to her that he and his ex-wife had worked things out and were getting back together. She had realized then that she had been nothing more to him than a fun pasttime. The pain had taught her a valuable yet hard lesson when it came to men.
She tossed her head, sending her shoulder-length hair forward, framing her face. She grinned at the seductive effect and laughed. The rich sound vibrated in the room and made her realize it had been weeks since she’d had a reason to laugh. Almost losing the only home she’d ever known had taken its toll, but now she had a reason to rejoice.
“You look pretty.”
She turned at the sound of her mother’s voice and smiled. “Thanks, Mom, and I feel pretty tonight. I can’t wait to tell Spencer Westmoreland that we have no reason to sell the vineyard, no matter how much he offers for it.”
A worried look touched her mother’s features. “Be careful, Donnay. It’s my impression that Mr. Westmoreland isn’t a man who likes losing.”
She chuckled. “That’s my impression of him as well, but I can’t worry about that. How he handles bad news is no concern of mine.”
“I know, but still, Donnay, he’s—”
“Mom,” she said, reaching out and grabbing her mother’s hand. “Don’t worry, I can handle Mr. Westmoreland.” A smile curved her lips as she glanced at herself in the mirror again, thinking of the sheer arrogance of the man. “The big question of the night is can he handle me?”
* * *
Spencer slid out of the backseat of the limo when the chauffeur opened the door. He nodded, thanking the driver before walking briskly toward the huge house. When a cool breeze slid through his leather coat, he slipped his hands into the pockets in defiance of the crisp December air.
Although the sun had set and there was very little light, he could recall vividly the Russells’ sprawling country home that seemed to loom out of the hills and sat on over a hundred acres of vintage land. Yesterday he had trekked this same path to the front door. The stone walkway, which seemed a mile long, was bordered with numerous flowering plants that seemed to welcome him.
Anticipation ran through his body with every step he took, and his heart began pounding furiously in his chest when he finally reached the door and pressed the bell. He tried ignoring the rush of excitement, thinking no woman had ever affected him this way, but then he conceded there was a first time for everything. And as long as he didn’t let it dull his common sense, he could handle a little bit of craziness on a nippy December night.
The door opened and Chardonnay stood there, a vision of loveliness that practically took his breath away. His mouth pressed in a thin, hard line when he felt his common sense deserting him, and immediately he fought back the feeling. He liked being in control, but at that moment he feared that he was losing it.
She stepped back to let him enter. “It will take me only a minute to grab my wrap,” she said, walking off.
His gaze sharpened when he saw her bare back. Her dress seemed perfect for her body and emphasized the svelte lines of her curves and the gracefulness of her long, gorgeous legs. The effect was stunning and he felt it all the way to his groin. He shifted, deciding it best to stay in place by the door, grateful for the full-length leather coat he was wearing.
He watched her grab her wrap off the table, place it around her shoulders and turn. Their gazes locked and at that precise moment, something passed between them. He felt it and was convinced she had felt it, as well. Like him, she stood perfectly still, their gazes leveled, connected.
Then suddenly the sound of a door closing somewhere upstairs in this monstrosity of a house broke the spell, and she tilted her head and frowned at him. A deliberate smile curved his lips.
“Are you ready to leave?” he asked, deciding the sooner he got her out of this house, off this land and into the cozy confines of the limo, the better.
She nodded and he had a feeling that the smile she proceeded to plaster on her lips was just as deliberate as his had been. She crossed the room and, as graceful as a swan, came to a stop in front of him. “Yes, I’m ready.”
* * *
As Donnay settled into the soft leather cushions of the limo, she inhaled the familiar scent of ripened grapes that drenched the night air. This was wine country. The hills, valleys, fields and meadows bowed to that very proclamation and had done so for years. She had been born here and they had buried a host of other Russells here on this land. This was her legacy. But even more importantly, this was her home.
Through the tinted windows and in the darkness her gaze still scanned the land the car passed. She was grateful she and her family no longer had to worry about losing what was theirs to someone who wouldn’t appreciate the valley for what it was. Someone who wanted to destroy the land instead of wanting to cultivate it. Someone intent on turning what would always be a vineyard into a playground for the rich and famous. A vacation spot.
That very someone was sitting a decent distance from her on the seat and hadn’t spoken since the limo had left her family’s home. She had to admit to surprise once she had walked outside and had seen the limo parked in the driveway. She should not have been. Spencer Westmoreland was a man who evidently enjoyed basking in his wealth.
In the dark interior of the car she allowed her gaze to scan his silhouette, bathed in the moonlight. He wasn’t looking at her. In fact his gaze seemed fixed on the objects they passed; although she doubted he was actually seeing anything. That meant he was deep in thought, or just plain ignoring her.
The thought of him doing the latter should not have bothered her but it did. After all, he was the one who had invited her to dinner. She wondered if he’d already detected that this was one deal he’d thought he had wrapped up that he could now kiss goodbye. Not bloody likely. He was probably sitting there thinking of a new strategy to get what he wanted.
Hopefully after tonight she would make it clear as glass that her family would not entertain notions of selling the vineyard. She smiled thinking her mother and grandparents would certainly rest a lot better tonight. But when it came to how well she would sleep, she wasn’t as certain. Not with the man sitting beside her on the seat causing all sorts of turbulent emotions to rise within her.
While he was looking elsewhere, she scanned his face. His features were sharp, as sharp as his arrogant tongue, a tongue he was holding tonight, thank goodness. But everything else about him was ou
t there, in the open. He was handsome. That fact was a given. Every single detail about his features—the rounded chin, the short dark hair, the full lips—contributed to a face that would make any woman take a second look. Then there was the way he fit his clothes. Yesterday she hadn’t failed to notice he was a sharp dresser. No doubt beneath his leather coat was a designer suit.
“Have you been to Sedrick’s before?”
She blinked, realizing he had spoken. He had shifted positions in the seat and was staring at her. When had he done that? While she had been admiring his clothes? If that was the case, he hadn’t missed her studying him.
Deciding she needed to answer his question, she said, “Yes, several times. Have you?”
“Once. I was impressed with both the service and the food.”
“The food is wonderful,” she said, suddenly wondering if they needed more space between them. For some reason it seemed the distance separating them had decreased.
“And that will give us a chance to talk.”
She lifted a brow. “About what?” she asked, wanting him to get specific.
“A number of things.” With a move that was so premeditated that it caught her unawares, he eased closer to her on the seat. Her heart rate escalating at an alarming rate, she glanced up at his face and fought back the panic she felt rising in her throat. She had made light of her mother’s warning, however, when it came to experience, she was no match for Spencer. He had a sensuality about him that made the pulse in her throat twitch. Robert had been an older, handsome man who had impressed her with his intellect. But when it came to style, sophistication and fashion, he’d been slightly unkempt. He was a professor, and in his social circles and profession, one wasn’t supposed to look like he belonged on the cover of GQ.
But it was a whole different story for Spencer Westmoreland. He was a businessman, suave, debonair, handsome…arrogant. Even now his presence was dominating the interior of the car. There was no doubt in her mind that in his world, his word ruled supreme. She doubted very few opposed him. And those who did probably paid the price. One didn’t make it to where he was in life, and at such a young age, without being ruthless to some degree. Donnay shuddered at the thought. He wanted Russell Vineyards. She wondered how he would handle knowing it was no longer within his grasp?