She let out a long, deep sigh. So what if she found him attractive. She was a woman and he was a man. No big deal. But as she continued to hold his angry gaze, she decided it was a big deal when they each considered the other the enemy. He was determined to put himself in the path of what she wanted, what she needed the most—a news-breaking story.
As he slowly skirted around several tables to head her way, she vowed not to be intimidated by him. She lifted her chin, refusing to turn to mush as the strong, well-defined muscles of his chest and shoulders became more defined by the glow of lanterns burning on the walls. His jeans and the way he was wearing them made every woman in the place sensually aware of him as a man. She didn't miss the number of female heads that turned to look at him.
Mercy, she thought. The man was filling her vision. He was also filling something else; a desire to release the suppressed hormones trying to spring to life inside of her. She'd always thought of herself as a good girl but tonight, this very second, the thoughts flooding her mind weren't good. They were racy, torrid … just plain bad.
Jasmine self-consciously cleared her throat when he came nearer, and tried to ignore the way her body was reacting. Her blouse suddenly felt too tight against her breasts. She frowned, not liking the thought that Wesley Brooks could fill her with hot sensations whenever he was within a hundred feet of her. But then from the articles she had read in the paper in the society columns, women drooled over him all the time, which was one of the reasons he had a reputation for being an irresistible ladies' man. Now that Jake Danforth was married off, Wesley Brooks's and Ian Danforth's names headed Savannah's list as the city's most eligible bachelors; bachelors that any woman would want.
When he came to a stop at her table, she leaned back in her chair and exhaled a long, deep breath. He was upset at seeing her here tonight. It then dawned on her that he was upset but not surprised. In fact, he had walked in like he had expected to find her, which meant someone had tipped him off. She glanced over at Ian Danforth and he gave her a mega-watt smile. She frowned. The man had obviously snitched on her.
She shrugged. This was a free country and she had the right to go wherever she wanted. If Wesley thought just because he was holding her locket hostage that he could dictate how she spent her evenings, then he had another thought coming. Thanks to her stepmother and stepsisters, she had learned a long time ago how to stick up for herself and not let anyone run her life. She might have little control over Wesley Brooks dominating her dreams but she refused to let him command the hours while she was awake.
So as calmly as she could, she returned his stare as she gripped the coffee cup tighter in her hand. She twisted her lips in a forced smile. "Wesley, funny seeing you here."
* * *
There was nothing funny about it at all, Wesley thought, meeting her gaze. Whenever he saw her, his hormones shifted into overdrive and visions of naked bodies, silken sheets and thrusting motions danced in his head.
Jasmine Carmody just might be the death of him; but before he died, he wanted to do something outrageous like reach across the table, snatch her up in his arms and mold her smart-ass mouth against his.
Without waiting for an invitation he knew he'd never get, he took the chair across from her. "What are you doing here, Jasmine?"
She smiled at him. Again. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm sitting here minding my own business, drinking a cup of coffee and eating a danish. Is that a crime?"
Wesley shrugged. "Not if you were really minding your own business. But it's my understanding that you've been asking questions."
She sighed. Evidently the waitress had talked. There would be no tip for her tonight. "Asking questions is part of my job."
"Then consider yourself officially off work."
Jasmine's gaze narrowed. "I'm never off work."
Wesley replaced the frown with a slow smile, but it was a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Then I guess I'll have to change that."
He stood and pulled several bills out of the pocket of his jeans and tossed them on the table. "Come on."
She blinked. "Excuse me?"
He leaned forward, bracing his hands on the table. "I said come on. It's time you stop working and have fun and I know just the place to take you."
To the gallows to chop off her head no doubt, Jasmine thought as she eyed him warily. She was curious and intrigued, but not stupid. And although she had no intentions of going anywhere with him, she asked anyway. "Where?"
"To the country fair that's in town."
Jasmine leaned back in her chair. The fair came to town every year and she couldn't recall the last time she had gone. Suddenly her mouth watered at the thought of a candied apple, cotton candy and popcorn, not to mention the rides. She wondered what she had to lose if she decided to indulge in a little fun. It then occurred to her that she could possibly lose out on getting the scoop on Abraham Danforth if he showed up here tonight. But then she doubted Wesley would let her follow through with any plan she'd made concerning Abraham tonight anyway. Besides, after the short conversation she'd had with her stepmother earlier, she needed to do something that would make her scream, and a roller-coaster ride just might do the trick.
However, there was another stumbling block. If she went with Wesley to the fair, some people might construe it as a date.
She crossed her arms over her chest knowing he had an ulterior motive for asking her to the fair. Was something going down tonight that she needed to know about? "Why?"
He lifted a brow. "Why what?"
"Why do you want to take me to the fair?"
He smiled. "I just told you. I think you work too much. You need to have fun, live a little, let your hair down and play," he said, reaching out and pulling on one of her braids.
He may as well have been pulling on the nipples of her breasts from the sensation that suddenly zipped to their sensitive tips. It had sent a jolt right through her. Unfortunately, her body's reaction only proved she had a lot of nervous energy to work off so maybe going to the fair was not a bad idea.
"And there's no reason for you not to go, unless…"
She lifted a brow. "Unless what?"
"Unless you don't think you can handle me."
Jasmine frowned. Truthfully, she doubted she could handle him, but she would never let him know that. She had learned the hard way to never let anyone know her weaknesses. "You're nothing to handle, Wesley," she lied, meeting his gaze.
His smile widened and he leaned closer and whispered, "Prove it."
She blinked wondering how such a thing could be proven. Evidently he was used to women seducing him. To him this was all a game, a game that he knew the rules to and was well versed at playing.
Jasmine sighed, not able to think straight with such a gorgeous set of hazel eyes staring at her. She wondered if she would regret her decision in the morning.
"All right," she said standing. "Just for tonight, we'll call a truce and have some fun. But tomorrow it's back to work as usual."
Wesley chuckled and decided not to tell her that once she began playing with him, work would never be the same again.
Moments later they were walking out of the coffeehouse. "We'll go in my car and I'll bring you back here afterward to get yours," Wesley said, as they stepped into the parking lot.
Jasmine nodded as he led her toward his car. Tonight he was driving the Corvette again.
He unlocked the passenger car door for her and she slipped into the smooth leather seat. She immediately tugged her skirt down when she noted his gaze drifted to her exposed thighs and legs.
"Thanks and you can close the door now," she said, when he continued to stand there.
"All right," he said, meeting her gaze once more before closing the door. He rounded the hood and opened the driver's door to get in. "So how long have you lived in Savannah?"
She glanced over at him. "For eight years, ever since college. I came here to attend Savannah State and my father decided to accept a position at the hospital to be near me."
Wesley nodded. "Dr. James Carmody, head of orthopedics?" When he'd first found out her name, he had wondered if she was related to the doctor. Carmody wasn't a common name in these parts.
She raised a brow. "Yes, you know him?"
"We've met," Wesley said, backing up the car and heading toward the expressway. "We've run into each other at several social functions." He glanced over at her. "I've also met your mother and your sisters before but I never knew the doctor had a third daughter."
Jasmine turned and met his gaze when she again remembered the conversation she'd had with her stepmother earlier. "You met my stepmother and stepsisters. Biologically, I'm my father's only child and although he's never legally adopted my stepsisters, they find it very convenient to use my father's last name."
Wesley nodded and remembered the woman in the locket was not the woman he'd met who'd tried throwing her two daughters at him. Evidently there was no love lost between Jasmine, her stepmother and stepsisters, Wesley thought, as he kept his gaze on the road. He decided to file that information away just in case he needed to use it later.
"So where are you from originally?" he decided to ask her.
"I was born in Louisiana and lived there until my mother died when I was nine. The memories of my mother's death were too much for my father, so he transferred to a hospital in L.A. It was there that he met my stepmother and they married when I turned sixteen."