Ian's Ultimate Gamble. Brenda Jackson
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Ian wasn’t sure how long he stood at the window looking out, idly sipping his wine while seeing various yachts, sailboats and schooners cruising the lake, resembling fireflies below as they went by. Tomorrow was another busy day. He had meetings with Nolen McIntosh, his casino manager, Vance on security matters and Danielle on PR. Then of course there was that discussion with his event planner regarding the final details for Delaney’s surprise birthday party.
It took Ian only a minute to notice something was different. There was no sound coming from the pool. He set his wineglass on a nearby table, moved away from the window and headed toward the room where he’d left Brooke almost an hour earlier.
The pool was empty, so he glanced around the room and then saw her. She lay flat on her stomach on the padded leather bench, asleep. The intensity of the emotions he felt at that moment hit him from every angle. When was the last time Brooke had slept at his place? It had been years. Their angry parting words—mostly from him—still burned fervently in his veins. She had tried to explain; tried presenting her side of things. But he hadn’t wanted to listen. He hadn’t wanted to ever see or talk to her again.
So what was happening here? Why was he talking to her, seeing her again? Why had he allowed her to invade his space, the only place free of his memories of her?
She moaned in her sleep, and hearing the sound he stepped closer, allowing his gaze to rake over her shapely body, feeling a rush of adrenaline. A deep swallow made its way down his throat as his gaze moved to the tie that held the top part of her bikini in place, the smooth curve of her back, the flare of her hips beneath the thin scrap of material that was supposed to be a bikini bottom. Her skin looked soft, inviting and warm to the touch. He wanted his hands all over her thighs, and he would do anything to cup her delicious bottom. And he didn’t want to think about how he wanted to use his mouth on her breasts.
He sighed deeply. Considering their history, it was only natural that he would feel this heated lust, this mind-searing desire. There was a time when, if he’d found her like this, he could have awakened her by making love to her, gently flipping her on her back and using his hands and his mouth to show her what real moans were all about. His stomach begin trembling at the memories, and hot liquid fire filled his body at the very thought. But he knew things were different. They no longer had that kind of relationship, and he doubted they ever would again. She was no longer his to touch at will.
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