Hot Westmoreland Nights / Scandalising the CEO: Hot Westmoreland Nights / Scandalizing the CEO. Brenda JacksonЧитать онлайн книгу.
of his kitchen. “I couldn’t sleep,” she decided to say. “Unfamiliar bed.” There was no reason to tell him what had really kept her awake.
“But you did get enough sleep to function this morning,” he stated. “The men will be hungry,” he added.
She snorted, not caring how it sounded. “Mama Francine said men are always hungry. Even when their stomachs are full.”
He leaned against the counter. “And who is Mama Francine?”
Too late she realized she might have said too much, but quickly decided telling him about Mama Francine wasn’t giving anything away. “She’s the person who taught me how to cook.”
He nodded and she turned back to her eggs. She wasn’t sure how many men would want their eggs scrambled, but she wanted to have the mixture ready just in case. And Mama Francine had taught her how to flip eggs, so those who didn’t want their egg scrambled could tell her just how they liked it.
She heard him move, but refused to look up again. Besides, she knew he was moving toward her with a slow walk and glancing around inspecting everything while doing so. And with every step he took closer to her she felt his heat. It was even more powerful than what the stove was generating.
“I’m impressed.”
She couldn’t help but smile as she glanced over her shoulder. “Again?”
“Yep. You’re serving both bacon and sausage.”
She lifted a brow. Curious. “Something’s wrong with that?”
He shrugged. “No. It’s just that usually Nellie did one or the other.”
She gazed him a pointed look. “Well, I’m not Nellie.”
His heavy-lidded eyes raked over her. Slowly. Thoroughly. Then he said in a voice drenched with masculine awareness. “I can see that.”
She didn’t know what to say to that, so she said nothing at all before turning back around, placing the egg mixture aside to give attention to the pan of biscuits.
She knew he was staring at her legs and was tempted to pull her skirt down. However, doing so would give him the impression she was uncomfortable with what she was wearing. She wasn’t nor should she be. It was a decent length and, therefore, it was appropriate. It hit just a little above the knee, but she was wearing leggings underneath. If he were to see her in some of the other outfits she owned, the ones that barely covered her thighs, he would probably be shocked.
“And we’re getting homemade biscuits, too?”
She couldn’t help the grin that touched her lips when she moved to open the oven door and slide the pan of biscuits inside. “Another abnormality?”
“Around here, yes.”
That made Chloe wonder why this Nellie didn’t prepare more of a variety of foods for breakfast. After closing the oven door she turned around, trying to ignore how responsive certain parts of her body were to Ramsey’s nearness. He looked like he needed another five hours of sleep to do him justice, yet at the same time he looked sexy as sin. “May I ask you a question, Ramsey?”
He shrugged those massive shoulders again. “Depends on what you want to know.”
She crossed her arms under her breasts and wondered if that had been a good thing when his eyes, half-asleep or not, followed the movement and seemed to be staring right through the material of her blouse to her nipples. At least the nipples thought so and were tingling at the attention they were getting. They were tingling and getting hard all at the same time.
“I want to know why this Nellie didn’t offer more of a variety to the men at breakfast time.”
She watched as a grin quirked his lips. “If you knew Nellie you wouldn’t have to ask that question.”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know Nellie, so I’m asking it.”
He tilted his head to the side, focusing those ever-so-intense eyes on her. And weakling that she was, immediately felt her body’s response to his gaze. She wondered if he could detect it. It seemed so unreal that she would react to him this way when Daren couldn’t get a spark of response out of her no matter how much he tried. But then, he hadn’t tried too often. He’d been more interested in building his political future by parading Senator Burton’s daughter out in front of those he felt he needed to impress. And when they were alone he was more into surfing the Internet for political blogs than getting into her. And those times when he had given her his attention, he might as well not have bothered. To say Daren hadn’t had a romantic bone in his body was an understatement. However, the final straw came when he’d actually suggested they participate in a threesome. He claimed that kind of sexual kinkiness was a total turn on for him. For a man who couldn’t even handle a twosome to fix his mouth to propose such a thing was too much. She’d sent him packing with the few items he had kept at her place and with a clear understanding not to come back.
Since then she had to focus all her energy—sexual and otherwise—into making her magazine a success and refused to think about having any type of a relationship with a man, and now, here she was, behaving like some supercharged, highly-sexed woman, ready to unzip his pants and jump his bones.
“Nellie figured that for breakfast she would give them just the basic, enough to get by so they could really be hungry by lunchtime,” he interrupted her thoughts by stating.
She raised a brow. In her opinion that didn’t make much sense. “Wouldn’t they be hungry at lunchtime anyway?”
“Yes.”
Chloe opened her mouth to say something, then snapped it shut, deciding to leave it alone. She and Nellie were two different people and the way the woman ran her kitchen was none of Chloe’s business. Chloe’s concern, her aim, was to make sure by the time she confessed who she was, Ramsey would feel he was irrevocably in her debt. And if offering the men who worked for him a variety at breakfast was going to get brownie points with him, then so be it. Besides, after listening to the men yesterday, it was quite obvious that most of them would like a home-cooked meal and she had no problem giving them one. Besides, being back in the kitchen had made her realize just how much she enjoyed cooking.
She heard the sound of a vehicle pulling up. “Sounds like your men are starting to arrive.”
He shook his head. “No, it’s Callum. He always arrives earlier than the others. He and I usually have business to discuss in the mornings.”
She nodded. She had noticed the man yesterday and could tell he and Ramsey had more than just an employer-employee relationship. They seemed to be close friends. “He’s from the Outback, isn’t he?”
Ramsey had moved to where the coffeepot was sitting to pour a cup of coffee. He took a sip and frowned. The woman could even make damn good coffee. “Yes,” he finally said, answering her question.
Few people, including some members of Ramsey’s own family, knew that Callum was a millionaire in his own right and owned a vast amount of land in Australia. He had several sheep ranches in Australia that were run by a very efficient staff. There was no need to tell her that the Aussie donated to charity the salary he earned as Ramsey’s ranch manager.
Callum, at thirty-four, was the product of a wealthy white Australian father and an African American mother. His family had made billions in the sheep ranching business. Another thing she didn’t need to know was that the only reason Callum was still hanging around here instead of moseying it back to Australia was because he didn’t plan to leave without Gemma going with him.
Callum knew Ramsey well enough to know that when it came to his three sisters, Ramsey was a tad overprotective and would stop any advances on Megan, Gemma or Bailey cold. It had taken the Aussie a full year to convince Ramsey that his intentions toward Gemma were honorable and that he loved her and wanted to marry her. Both Ramsey and Dillon had given Callum their blessings for a marriage; however, they’d made it clear the final decision would be Gemma’s. His sister