The Westmoreland Legacy. Brenda Jackson

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СКАЧАТЬ on the door sounded again. There was no need to pretend she wasn’t there when Gavin knew she was. Crossing the room, she opened the door to find Gavin with a tray of food in his hand.

      “After you told Gramma Mel you weren’t coming to dinner, she strongly suggested I bring you something. I believe she thinks I’m the reason you didn’t come to breakfast or dinner.”

      Layla moved aside to let him in. Tray and all. Especially the tray. Everything was covered but the food smelled good. “I’ll let her know that’s not the case when I talk to her tomorrow.” No need for him to know he had been a factor in her decision.

      “She might not be here. Not sure when she’s leaving, whether it’s tomorrow or the day after.”

      Layla closed the door and followed him to the kitchen. “Leaving? Ms. Melody is going somewhere?”

      “Yes, to a library convention in Cincinnati for a week. But I’m sure she won’t leave without saying goodbye. And if you expect me to take her place and make sure you don’t miss meals...that won’t be happening.”

      She frowned. “I never asked your grandmother to cook for me, Gavin.”

      He put the tray on the kitchen table and turned to her. “Don’t you think I know that?”

      “Then why did you insinuate otherwise?”

      “Did I?”

      She crossed her arms over her chest. “Yes, you did.”

      “Then I apologize.” She couldn’t help noticing how his gaze roamed over her. “You changed clothes,” he said.

      Was that disappointment she heard in his voice? Seeing his gaze had moved to her chest, she dropped her hands to her sides. “I showered.”

      “I know. You smell good. And you look good in that dress. Nice legs.”

      She would have appreciated the compliment if she wasn’t still so uptight about that marker being moved. “I want to go back out to the dig site tomorrow and look around, Gavin. This time I want to use my own detector.”

      “If you’re still concerned about why the marker was moved, I might have a reason for that.”

      She came into the kitchen, trying to ignore the way he was checking out her legs and the way her nipples responded to his blatant appraisal. “What reason is that?”

      “Clete. He’s an older man we hired years ago to keep the grounds clear of trash and debris as well as repair anything that needs fixing. That way Caldwell and the men can concentrate mainly on the cattle. When I mentioned the marker to Gramma Mel, she reminded me that Clete has a tendency to move stuff when he’s keeping the land cleared.”

      “But why would he remove the marker?”

      Gavin shrugged. “He probably didn’t know what it was and thought it was trash. He and his wife left a few days ago to visit their son who is in the navy and stationed in Hawaii. I’ll talk to him when he gets back.”

      Layla drew in a deep breath, feeling somewhat relieved. The thought of someone tampering with the dig site had definitely bothered her.

      “Sit down and eat. I promised Gramma Mel that I would make sure you did.”

      She raised a suspicious eye. “Why?”

      “Why what?”

      “Why would you care one way or the other if I eat?”

      A slow, sexy smile touched his lips and her womb seemed to contract with the weight of that smile. And his dimples had bone-melting fire spreading through her blood. “The reason I care is because I don’t want you to start losing weight.”

      She crossed her arms over her chest again, and then quickly dropped them by her sides when she saw his gaze shift back to her chest. Could the man think of anything other than sex for a minute? “And what does my weight have to do with you?”

      “When I make love to you, I want to feel meat on your bones.”

      His statement answered her earlier question. No, he obviously couldn’t think of anything other than sex. “We won’t be making love, Gavin.”

      “Your food is getting cold.”

      He was blatantly ignoring what she’d said. “I’ll eat after you leave.”

      He chuckled. “If that was a hint that you want me to go, forget it. I want to make sure you eat.”

      She frowned. “What do you plan to do? Stay here and watch me.”

      “Yes, that was my intent.”

      He was serious. “I don’t need a babysitter, Gavin.”

      “No. What you need is a lover, Layla. And you never did answer my question from last night. When was the last time you made love with a man?”

      “And I don’t intend to answer it because it’s none of your business.”

      If he insisted on staying, she would ignore him. She moved to the table where he’d placed her food. Her mouth began watering the moment she uncovered it. Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, broccoli, candied yams and iced tea. And a slice of chocolate cake for dessert.

      A smile lit her face. “Your grandmother is something else.” Layla walked over to the sink to wash her hands. After grabbing utensils out of a drawer, she returned to the table and found Gavin sitting there. Did he plan to actually watch her eat? Didn’t he have anything better to do?

      Deciding nothing would stand between her and that food, she sat down, bowed her head and said grace, determined to ignore him. When she slid a forkful of mashed potatoes between her lips, she closed her eyes and groaned. Delicious.

      “If you get off eating mashed potatoes, I can only imagine your reaction when we make love.”

      A part of her wanted to claim she wouldn’t enjoy it. She quickly dismissed the idea when she glanced over at him. A woman could climax just from staring at him. Even so, she said, “In your dreams.”

      “My dreams will one day become your reality, Layla.”

      She decided not to argue with him anymore. But if he was intent on watching her, she might as well ask him a few questions. Get him talking, so she wouldn’t think about how good he looked sitting there. How sexy.

      She took a sip of her tea. “You mentioned your teammate named Flipper. Any others you’re close to?”

      “I’m close to all of them. We’re a team.”

      “How many?”

      “Enough.”

      She rolled her eyes. Had she asked about classified information or something? “I’m sure you’re closer to some of the guys more than others.”

      He leaned back in the chair as if getting comfortable. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d shared a private, intimate dinner with a man. And, whether СКАЧАТЬ