then sighed deeply. “All right. Thanks for letting me know.” She slipped her mobile phone back into her purse and looked at him. “I just heard something that might interest you, Mr. Brooks.”
He lifted a brow. “What?”
“That was my boss. A definite identification has been made on the body that was found in the attic at Crofthaven.”
Wesley straightened. “Who was it?” he inquired quietly.
Jasmine cleared her throat. She knew how much this information meant to him. “The body was identified as Martha Jones.”
Wesley inhaled deeply. Martha Jones had been the troubled and sickly daughter of Joyce Jones, the Danforths’ long-time housekeeper. His heart went out to Joyce.
He met Jasmine’s gaze. “And I bet you’re determined to find Joyce Jones to get the scoop.”
She frowned. “Yes, I’d definitely like to talk to her.”
Wesley narrowed his gaze at her. “Don’t you ever let up? The last thing Joyce needs right now is a nosey newspaper reporter asking her questions. She probably needs this time alone.”
Jasmine scowled. “I’m not an insensitive person.”
He glared. “Really? You had me fooled. Only an insensitive person would have hassled Larissa about the identify of her baby’s father.”
She placed her hands on her hips. “It’s my job to report any news-breaking stories. And I considered that news breaking. Anything that goes on in the Danforths’ household is newsworthy. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a job to do.”
Wesley sighed. The woman was wearing on his last nerve and he forced himself to stay calm in the wake of his rising anger. He moved aside when she got into her car. He had meant what he said, he intended to be her shadow and somehow he would get through it. She would be a challenge but he’d overcome challenges before. Jasmine Carmody was nothing compared to others he’d faced. As a kid, being carted from one foster home to another had been a challenge, as well as a pain…literally.
He had to keep his head on straight and remember that she was just a woman and he’d known plenty. But then there was something that made her stand out, something distinctively different. As he got into his car to follow her to her next destination—which he knew would be Crofthaven—the only thing he could think about was that a woman like Jasmine could mess with a man’s mind.
His mind he could control. He hoped and prayed he could control the rest of his body.
Although she wanted to appear cool on the outside, Jasmine was in turmoil on the inside. The more she thought about Wesley Brooks, the angrier she became. And she didn’t understand how she could be attracted to a man like him. It was disgusting.
By the time she arrived at Crofthaven, several television news crews were there to set up for a press conference. The huge estate on the outskirts of Savannah housed a large Georgian-style mansion. The house was considered a historical landmark as it was built over one hundred years ago. The grounds surrounding Crofthaven were lush and lovely, and no doubt tended by a whole army of gardeners, Jasmine thought. Magnificent moss-covered oak trees lined the drive to the main house. The land stretched all the way to the Atlantic and Jasmine picked up the potent scent of the ocean.
She quickly parked her car and got out, determined to find out as much information as she could. She glanced around and saw another reporter from the Savannah Morning News and waved. Brad Cabot answered her greeting with a full-fledge boyish grin. Fresh out of college, he had only been working for the paper a year and she had found him to be good company during the times they had gone out on assignments together.
“What’s going on?” she asked the minute he walked up.
“Not much. The family plans to make a statement in a few minutes so you got here just in time.”
Jasmine nodded at the same time she glanced around and saw Wesley’s car pull up. Her eyes narrowed and a frown touched her lips as she watched him get out of his car. Reporters rushed over to him, wanting a statement, a comment, just about any information he could provide. Without responding to the vast number of questions being thrown at him, he steadily moved up the steps of the huge mansion toward the front door.
Jasmine watched him, and as if he felt the heat of her gaze, he turned and looked at her. Her eyes immediately went to the strong lines of his face, especially the darkness of his eyes, the fullness of his lips and the firmness of his chin. She drew in a quick, shaky breath and her heart thumped crazily in her chest as their gazes met and held. He frowned and she felt his disapproval all the way to her toes.
She also felt something else. Cutting through all of his anger she felt an intense attraction. She swallowed when his gaze continued to stay welded to hers, unable to move. Then moments later he turned before opening the door and entering Crofthaven.
“I take it that the two of you know each other,” Brad said grinning, glancing over his shoulder at her. It had been clearly obvious that Wesley’s gaze had singled her out.
She shrugged and replied in a carefully neutral tone. “Yes, we’ve run into each other a few times.”
“And what do you think of him?”
Jasmine didn’t want to think of him at all. She met Brad’s gaze. “I think he’s…interesting.”
A few hours later and Jasmine was pretty sure Wesley Brooks was more than interesting. He was beginning to become a nuisance. Even now while she did her grocery shopping, she knew that he was somewhere watching her.
At the press conference at Crofthaven, Abraham Danforth had spoken on behalf of the Danforth family and acknowledged that the body found in the attic had been that of his long-time housekeeper’s daughter. He’d further stated that the hearts of the Danforths went out to the Jones’s family.
In Jasmine’s opinion, Abraham Danforth had handled the media like a true politician and had only perfected his squeaky clean image. He assured everyone that he was one hundred percent behind the investigation to determine the cause of Martha’s death and he wanted to find out the truth as much as anyone. While he had been talking she was aware that Wesley, standing united with the members of the Danforth family, had been watching her.
Like he was still doing.
She glanced around the supermarket. Although she didn’t see him anywhere, she felt his presence.
“Did you find everything you needed?” the woman asked her at checkout.
“Yes, thanks,” she replied. She then glanced over her shoulder to see Wesley Brooks coming up to stand directly behind her with a ton of microwave spaghetti dinners in his hand.
“Stocking up on dinner, Mr. Brooks?” she asked after accepting her change back from the cashier.
“No more than you’re stocking up on junk food,” he countered, looking at her purchases that consisted of a pair of panty hose, a celebrity magazine, several bars of Snickers and a pint-size carton of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream.
“This is energy food,” she said, deciding she didn’t like him seeing what she had bought.
“And
