Brenda Jackson

Tall, Dark...Westmoreland! / The Moretti Seduction


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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 two older brothers, Duan, who was thirty-six, and Terrence, who was thirty-four, had taken after her father in their good looks. And as in the case of their father, the thought of marriage was the last thing on their minds. In a way, she followed in her dad’s footsteps as well. Finding a husband was the last thing on hers.

      So there you had it. They were the swinging single Jeffries, although for the moment, nothing was swinging for her, Olivia thought. There were a few people at this ball who seemed to be having fun, but most, like her, were looking at their watches and wondering when proper etiquette dictated it would be okay to leave.

      Whoever had come up with the idea of everyone wearing masks had really been off their rocker. It made her feel like she was part of the Lone Ranger’s posse. And because all the money raised tonight was for the new wing at the children’s hospital, in addition to the mask, everyone was required to wear a name badge on which was printed the name of a nursery rhyme character, a color of a crayon or a well-known cartoon or comic-book character. How creative.

      At least the food was good. The first words out of her father’s mouth when he’d seen her at the airport the day before had been, “You look too thin.” She figured the least she could do was mosey on over to the buffet table and get herself something to eat. Hopefully, in a little while she could split.

      Reginald Westmoreland watched the woman as she crossed the room, making her way over to the buffet table. He had been watching her for over twenty minutes now, racking his brain as to who she was. Mask or no mask, he recognized most of the women at the ball tonight. He knew almost every one of them because for years he had been immersed in the science of “lip-tology.” In other words, the first thing he noticed about a woman was her lips.

      He could recognize a woman by her lips alone, without even looking at any other facial feature. Most people wouldn’t agree, but no two pairs of lips were the same. His brothers and cousins had denounced his claim and had quickly put him to the test. He had just as quickly proven them wrong. Whether you considered it a blessing or a curse, the bottom line was that he had the gift.

      And there were other things besides her lips that caught his attention, like her height. She had to be almost six feet tall. And then he was struck by the way she fit into her elegantly designed black and silver beaded dress, the way the material clung to her shapely curves. He had noticed several men approach her, but she had yet to dance with any of them. In fact, it seemed that she was brushing them off. Reginald smelled a challenge.

      “So, how is the campaign going, Reggie?”

      Reginald, known to all his family as Reggie, turned to look at his older brother, divorce attorney extraordinaire, Jared Westmoreland. Just last week Jared had made the national news owing to a high-profile settlement he’d won in favor of a well-known Hollywood actor.

      “It officially kicks off Monday. But now that Jeffries has decided to throw his hat into the ring, things should be rather interesting,” he said, referring to the older man who would be his opponent. “With Brent, I have a good campaign manager, but I still feel it might be a tight race. Jeffries is well-known and well-liked.”

      “Well, if you need any help, let me know, although I’m not sure how much time I can spare now that Dana’s expecting and all.”

      Reggie rolled his eyes. Just last month Jared had found out he was going to be a father. “Dana is going to be carrying the baby, Jared, not you.”

      “I know, but I’m the one who’s been getting sick in the morning, and now I’m getting cravings. I never liked pickles until now.”

      Reggie couldn’t help but smile over his wineglass. “Sounds like a personal problem to me.” At the moment, his attention strayed from whatever Jared was saying. Instead, his gaze focused on the other side of the room. He noticed the woman whom he’d been watching sit down at a table. He had yet to see a man by her side, which meant she had come to the party alone.

      “Umm, I wonder who she is?” he asked.

      Jared followed Reggie’s gaze and chuckled. “What’s wrong? Don’t you recognize the lips?”

      Reggie shifted his gaze from the woman to his brother and frowned. “No, she’s someone new. I definitely haven’t met her before. Her lips don’t give her away.”

      “Then I guess the only thing left for you to do is go over there and introduce yourself.”

      Reggie grinned. “I know they don’t call you the sharpest attorney in Atlanta for nothing.”

      “Don’t you know sitting alone at a party isn’t good for you?”

      Olivia swung her head around at the sound of the deep, throaty masculine voice to find a tall, handsome man standing beside her. Like everyone else, he was wearing a mask, but even with it covering half of his face, she knew he had to be extremely good-looking. In the dim lighting, her artist eye was able to capture all his striking features that were exposed.

      First of all, there was his skin, flawlessly smooth and a shade of color that reminded her of rich, dark maple syrup. Then there was the angular plane of a jaw that supported a pair of sexy lips. The same ones that bestowed a slow smile on her. Apparently, he realized she was checking him out.

      “In that case, I guess you need to join me,” she replied, trying to remember the last time she’d been so outrageously forward with a guy and quickly deciding never. But the way the evening was going, she would have to stir up her own excitement. And now was as good a time as any to start. Maybe it was the fact that the party was so unrelentingly boring that made her long for a taste of the wild and reckless. The other men who had approached her hadn’t even piqued her curiosity. She had no desire to get to know them better. But this man was different.

      “I don’t mind if I do,” he said, easily sliding into the chair beside her while his eyes remained locked with hers. Her nose immediately picked up the scent of his cologne. Expensive. She quickly checked out his left hand. Ringless. Her gaze automatically went back to his face. Beautiful. Now he was smiling in earnest and showing beautiful white teeth.

      “You’re amused,” she said, taking a sip of her punch but wishing she had something a little stronger.

      Whoever he was, he was certainly someone worth getting to know, even if she was returning to Paris in a few months. That made it all the more plausible. It had taken her two years to get on full-time at the Louvre, and the hard work was just beginning. Once she returned, she would be working long hours, with little time to get her painting done. That was why she had brought her paints to Atlanta with her. She was determined to capture something worthwhile on canvas while she was here. The man sitting beside her would be the perfect subject.

      “Flattered more than amused,” he said, his voice reaching out and actually touching her, although she barely registered his words in her mind, because she was too busy watching the way his mouth moved. Sensuously slow.

      She couldn’t help wondering who he was. She had been gone from Atlanta a long time. After high school she had attended Pratt Institute in New York before doing her graduate work at the Art Institute of Boston. From there she had made the move to Paris, after landing a job as a tour professional, a glorified name for a tour guide.

      He had to be around her brother Terrence’s age, or maybe a year