Tall, Dark…Westmoreland! by Brenda Jackson
“I need to leave,” she said softly.
Reggie turned his head towards her on the pillow. He doubted he could move. He could barely breathe. It was close to morning. As soon as they had ended one session they’d been quick and eager to start another. Where in the hell did all that energy come from?
He knew she had to leave. So did he. But he didn’t want their one and only night together to end. “You do know there is no reason why we can’t –”
She quickly turned towards him and placed a finger on his lips. “Yes, there is. I can’t tell you my true identity. It could hurt someone.”
He frowned. As if reading his mind, she said, “I don’t have a husband. I don’t even have a boyfriend.”
“Then who?” he asked. He probably had more to lose than her since his campaign for Senate officially began that day.
“I can’t say. This has to be goodbye.”
The Moretti Seduction by Katherine Garbera
It was the only way to keep her mind off Antonio.
Work twenty-four hours a day.
When she was at home, she imagined him there with her. When she slept, he haunted her dreams, making love to her and speaking to her in that beautiful Italian voice of his. When she worked out in the gym, she heard his footfalls on the treadmill next to hers.
He was haunting her. Damn him.
As if she conjured him, he called her. “Nathalie, why haven’t you returned my calls?” he asked.
“I’m not sure. I’ve been busy.” Excuses. She knew better than that. “I guess I wanted a chance to get you out of my head.”
“Did it work?”
No, she had to admit. Not at all.
Available in May 2010 from
Mills & Boon® Desire™
Millionaire in Command by Catherine Mann & The Bride Hunter by Ann Major
Mini-series – Irresistible
Tall, Dark…Westmoreland! by Brenda Jackson & The Moretti Seduction by Katherine Garbera
The Prodigal Prince’s Seduction by Olivia Gates & The Heir’s Scandalous Affair by Jennifer Lewis
Tall, Dark…Westmoreland!
by
Brenda Jackson
The Moretti Seduction
by
Katherine Garbera
Tall, Dark…Westmoreland!
by
Dear Reader,
I am pleased to present to you Reginald Westmoreland’s story. At long last!
Reggie was introduced in my very first Westmoreland book, Delaney’s Desert Sheikh, as Delaney’s partner in crime. By the end of the story, he had earned a special place in readers’ hearts because he helped Delaney outsmart her overprotective brothers. Now, fifteen books later, it is time for his story to be told. I knew he would be the one to wrap up my books on the Atlanta-based Westmorelands.
I also knew he would be the one who would eventually become the Westmoreland to enter politics. And considering everything, doing so would not be an easy task. Especially if the woman your heart desires the most is the daughter of the man you’re running against.
Neither Reggie nor Olivia Jeffries expect the explosive desire their initial meeting brings, and together they face many challenges. But they discover that no matter what, true love conquers all.
I’ve received a lot of letters and e-mails asking if Reggie’s book is the end of the Westmorelands. My response is a resounding “No.” There are more Westmorelands to come, and I look forward to introducing you to all the Denver-based Westmorelands. They are men you will continue to fall in love with.
Thank you for making the Westmorelands a very special family. I look forward to bringing you more books of searing desire and endless love and passion.
Happy reading!
Brenda Jackson
Brenda Jackson is a die “heart” romantic who married her childhood sweetheart and still proudly wears the “going steady” ring he gave her when she was fifteen years old. Because she’s always believed in the power of love, Brenda’s stories all have happy endings. In her real-life love story, Brenda and her husband of thirty-six years live in Jacksonville, Florida, and have two sons.
A New York Times bestselling author of more than fifty romance titles, Brenda is a recent retiree who worked thirty-seven years in management at a major insurance company. She divides her time between family, writing and travelling with Gerald. You may write to Brenda at PO Box 28267, Jacksonville, Florida 32226, USA, by e-mail at [email protected] or visit her website at www.brendajackson.net.
To the love of my life, Gerald Jackson, Sr, and to everyone who has ever sent me a letter or e-mail to let me know how much you’ve enjoyed the Westmorelands. This book is for you!
Withhold not good from them to whom it is due, when it is in the power of thine hand to do it.
—Proverbs 3:27
One
There has to be another way for a woman to have fun, Olivia Jeffries thought as she glanced around at everyone attending the Firemen’s Masquerade Ball, an annual charity event held in downtown Atlanta. Already she was gearing up for a boring evening.
It wouldn’t have been so bad if she hadn’t arrived from Paris just yesterday, after being summoned home by her father. That meant she had to drop everything, including plans to drive through the countryside of the Seine Valley to complete the painting she had started months ago.
Returning to Atlanta had required her to take a leave of absence from her job as an art curator at the Louvre. But when Orin Jeffries called, she hadn’t hesitated to drop everything. After all, he was only the greatest dad in the entire world.
He had wanted her home after making the decision to run for public office, saying it was important that she was there not only for his first fund-raiser but also for the duration of his campaign. There would be a number of functions he would need to attend, and he preferred not to go with any particular woman on a regular basis. He didn’t want any of his female friends to get the wrong idea.
Olivia could only shake her head and smile. Her divorced father had taken himself off the marriage block years ago. In fact, she doubted he’d ever allowed himself to be there in the first place. He dated on occasion, but he’d never gotten serious about any woman, which was a pity. At fifty-six, Orin Jeffries was without a doubt a very good-looking man. His ex-wife, who was Olivia’s mom in genes only, had left a bad taste in Orin’s mouth. A taste that the past twenty-four years hadn’t erased.
Her