Ian's Ultimate Gamble. Brenda Jackson

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      Ian’s heart slammed against his chest. He had been prepared for a lot of things, but he hadn’t been prepared for Brooke to open the door in a two-piece bathing suit with a crocheted shawl wrapped around her waist that didn’t hide much of anything.

      There were her full, firm breasts that almost poured out of her bikini top and a tiny waist that flared to shapely hips attached to the most gorgeous pair of legs any woman could possess. And her feet—how could he possibly forget her sexy feet? They were bare, with brightly painted toenails, encased in a pair of cute flat leather sandals.

      Her unique scent was feminine and provocative and the same one he had followed out of the lounge. It was the same scent that was filling her doorway, saturating the air surrounding him, getting into his skin. She was and had always been a woman of whom fantasies were made. And seeing her standing there was overwhelming his sense of self-control.

      He sighed deeply, inwardly wishing he could focus on something other than her body and her scent. He wanted to concentrate on something like the rose he had given her, but instead his gaze lowered to her navel, which used to be one of his favorite spots on her body. He could recall all the attention he used to give it before moving lower to…

      “Ian?”

      He snatched his attention back to her face and cleared his throat. Damn, he had come to make peace, not make love. They would never share that type of relationship again. “Yes?”

      “Thanks for the rose, and I’m glad we can move forward in our lives, and I hope that one day we can be friends again,” she said.

      Brooke was watching his eyes, probably noting the caution within their dark depths when he said, “I hope so, too.”

      She nodded. “Good.”

      He leaned in the doorway. “You’re going out?”

      “Yes, I thought I’d go for a swim at one of the pools. The one with the huge waterfall looks inviting.”

      Ian nodded. It was. He had passed the area on his way here, and another thing he noted was that it was crowded with more men than women. He then remembered that the Rolling Cascade was hosting a convention of the International Association of Electricians. There were over eight hundred attendees, eighty percent of them men who probably thought they were capable of finding a woman’s hot spot and wiring her up in a minute flat. He drew his dark brows together sharply. Not with this woman.

      “That pool is nice, but I know of one that’s a hundred times better,” he said, when an idea suddenly popped into his head.

      “Really, where?”

      “My penthouse.”

      She met his eyes then, and he could imagine what thoughts were going through her mind. Hell, he was wondering about it himself. He had no right to feel possessive, as if she was still his. But just because she wasn’t didn’t mean he shouldn’t have a protective instinct where she was concerned, did it?

      Feeling better about the reason he was inviting her to his suite, he reached out and took her hand in his. “Look, it was just an invitation for you to use my private pool. Besides, I’d like to catch up on how things have been going for you. But if you prefer we don’t go any further than the rose, that’s fine.”

      Brooke took a second to absorb Ian’s words. He wanted them to become friends again and nothing more. He had given her a peace offering and now he wanted them to catch up on what had been going on in their lives. She doubted that he knew she asked about him often, whenever she and Dare spoke on the phone. She knew Ian was back at the top of his game, had reinstated his role of the Perfect End and now claimed he would never, ever settle down and marry. With his cousin Storm happily married, Ian much preferred being the remaining lone wolf of the Westmoreland clan.

      “I’d love to go swimming in your private pool and visit,” she said, and hoped and prayed she could get through an evening alone with him in his private quarters.

      The smile that touched his lips sent heat spreading through her. “Good. Are you ready to leave now?”

      “Yes. I just need to grab a towel.”

      “Don’t bother. I have plenty.”

      “Okay, let me get my door key.”

      Moments later she stepped out and closed the door behind her. As they walked together, side by side, toward a bank of elevators, she was fully aware that Ian was looking at her, but she refused to look back. If for one instant she saw heated desire in his eyes, she would probably do something really stupid like give in to the urgency of the sexual chemistry that always surrounded them and ask him to kiss her. But knowing what ironclad control Ian could have, he would probably turn her down.