Wishes for Tomorrow. Brenda Jackson

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СКАЧАТЬ I guess I’d better let you go now. See you tomorrow,” she said, backing up, putting proper distance between them.

      “Good night,” he said.

      Dillon opened the door and got into the car but sat there until Pam had raced up the stairs, let herself inside and closed the door behind her. He saw three pairs of curtains automatically fall back into place in upstairs windows, and couldn’t help but chuckle at the notion that he and Pam had been spied on. To be honest, he wasn’t surprised.

      As he drove off, he could only shake his head when he remembered his siblings’ and cousins’ reaction to Tammi when he’d brought her home, a year before they’d married. Although his parents and aunt and uncle had tried making the Westmoreland clan behave, it had been pretty obvious that Tammi hadn’t been too well received. But that hadn’t stopped him for marrying her the following year and bringing her home as his wife. Now he wished that it had.

      He shifted in his seat to pull his cell phone out of his jeans pocket, hoping tonight he could pick up a signal. He smiled when he did and immediately placed a call home.

      Ramsey answered on the second ring. “The Westmorelands.”

      “Hey, Ram, it’s Dillon. How are things going?”

      “As well as can be expected. Bane’s been behaving, so that’s good.”

      Yes, that was good, Dillon thought.

      “I went up to the big house and got all your mail,” Ramsey was saying.

      “Thanks.”

      “You find out anything on Raphel yet?” Ramsey asked.

      “Yes.” Dillon then spent the next half hour bringing his cousin up to date on what he’d uncovered that day from Jay’s journal.

      “And Jay Novak’s great-granddaughter is actually nice to you? After Raphel ran off with her great-grandfather’s wife?”

      Dillon chuckled. “Yes, she’s operating on the premise of good riddance. If Portia hadn’t left then Jay would never have met and married her great-grandmother. Needless to say, Pam has no problem with Raphel running off with the woman.”

      “Pam?”

      Dillon heard the curiosity in Ramsey’s voice and knew why. Ramsey of all people knew how hard it had been in making the real estate firm he had inherited from his father and uncle into the billion-dollar company it was today, taking care of the Westmoreland stronghold and being responsible for all those Westmorelands who were still dependent while they were away at college.

      “Yes, Pam is her name, and before you ask, the answer again is yes, she is beautiful. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever set eyes on.”

      And before Ramsey could say anything, he quickly added, “And she’s engaged.”

      “Umm, have you met her fiancé?” Ramsey wanted to know.

      “Yes, and he’s an ass.”

      Ramsey chuckled. “How did a beautiful woman get engaged to an ass?”

      “Beats me and it’s none of my business.”

      “That’s the difference between me and you, cuz. I would make it my business, especially if she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. You know what they say about it not being over until the fat lady sings? Well, in this case, she’s not off limits until the wedding is over.”

      “That’s not my style, Ram.”

      “Typically, it’s not mine, either, being the loner that I am, but I’ve learned that with some things you need to know when and how to adjust your thinking, be flexible and restructure your thought process. Especially if it’s a woman you want.”

      Dillon blinked, taken aback by Ramsey’s statement. “What makes you think she’s a woman I want?”

      “I can hear it in your voice. Do you deny it?”

      Dillon opened his mouth to do that very thing and then closed his mouth shut. No, he couldn’t deny it, because his cousin who knew him so well had just spoken the truth. And the question of the hour was whether or not he intended to do anything about it.

      Chapter 5

      Pam was trying, desperately so, to convince herself that the only reason she was sitting at the kitchen table and staring out the window was to study all the Indian paintbrushes that were still blooming this late in the year.

      It wasn’t working.

      Just like it wasn’t working to try and convince herself the only reason she’d gone to bed with thoughts of Dillon on her mind instead of the man she was engaged to marry was because Dillon had been to dinner the last couple of nights. The reason that argument wouldn’t hold up was because, although Fletcher had been dropping in for dinner quite often, she had yet to take visions of him to her bed. She had yet to remember, in vivid detail, what he’d been wearing the last time she’d seen him, and yet to hear the sound of his voice in her head in the wee hours of the morning.

      So why was Dillon Westmoreland causing so much havoc in her life when she should be concentrating on setting the best date to marry Fletcher? The main thing that had been nagging at her since meeting Dillon was the fact that he could arouse feelings and sensations within her that Fletcher didn’t. Was that something she should be concerned about, she wondered.

      She quickly decided that it didn’t really matter if she should be concerned, since Fletcher was the only one capable of getting her out of such a dismal situation. Their marriage would not be one of love and, the way things were looking, it wouldn’t be one of passion either. But she would make do. She really didn’t have a choice.

      The ringing of the phone intruded her thoughts. Getting up from the table she quickly crossed the room to pick it up, but turned to make sure she still had a good view out the window. “Hello.”

      “I called to see if you’ve come to your senses and called off your engagement.”

      Pam couldn’t do anything, but shake her head and smile. She wasn’t sure who was worse, her sisters or her best friend from college, Iris Michaels. From Iris’s initial meeting with Fletcher, he had rubbed her the wrong way and she hadn’t gotten over it yet. “No, sorry, the wedding is still on, so I hope you haven’t forgotten your promise to be my maid of honor.”

      Pam could picture Iris sitting behind the desk of the PR company she owned in Los Angeles with a beautiful view of the Pacific. Iris would be tapping a pen either on her desk or to the side of her face, trying to think of a way to get out of the promise she’d made their second year in college together over a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Their days in college had been hard. Money had been tight, so they had made do, shared practically everything and had become best friends for life.

      Right out of college, Iris had met, fallen in love with and married Garlan Knight. Garlan, a stuntman, had been killed while working on a major film less than a year into their marriage. That was four years ago and, although Iris dated on occasion, she had long ago proclaimed that she would never give her heart to another man because the pain of losing the person she loved wasn’t worth it.

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