A Wife for a Westmoreland Read Online Free PDF Page B

it inside his place was none other than Lucia Conyers.
    He shook his head trying to make heads or tails of what he was seeing. Okay, he had it now. He figured, for whatever reason, Lucia had come by—probably as a favor to Chloe—to check on him and had been kind enough to bring the box inside the house, out of the rain.
    He sat there watching the computer screen, expecting her to come back out at any minute and then get in her truck and pull off. He figured once she left, another vehicle would drive up, and the occupant of that car would be the woman he’d slept with. But as he sat there for another twenty minutes or so viewing the screen, Lucia never came back out.
    Lucia Conyers was his Puddin’ Tame?
    Derringer shook his head, thinking that there was no way. He then decided to fast-forward the tape to five o’clock the next morning. His eyes narrowed suspiciously when a few minutes later he watched his front door open and Lucia ease out of it as if she wassneaking away from the scene of some crime. And she was wearing the same clothes she had on when she’d first arrived the night before. It was obvious she had dressed hurriedly and was moving rather quickly toward her SUV.
    Damn. He couldn’t believe it. He wouldn’t believe it if he wasn’t seeing it for himself. She was the one woman he would never have suspected, not in a million years. But from the evidence he’d gotten off his video camera, Lucia was the woman he had slept with. Lucia, his sister-in-law’s best friend. Lucia was innocent—at least his assumption of that had been right. His mystery lover had been Lucia, the woman who would shy away from him and act skittish whenever he came around her.
    Last month he recalled hearing Chloe and his sisters tease her about this being the last year of her twenties and challenge her to write a list of everything she wanted to do before hitting the big three-oh. He couldn’t help wondering if she had added something outlandish like getting pregnant before her biological clock stopped ticking or ridding herself of her virginity.
    Anger filled him, seeped through every pore in his body. Lucia Conyers had a hell of a lot of explaining to do. She better have a good reason for getting into bed with him that night two weeks ago.
    He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and punched in the number to his sister-in-law’s magazine. “ Simply Irresistible, may I help you?”
    “Yes, I’d like to speak to Lucia Conyers, please,” he said, trying to control his anger.
    “Sorry, but Ms. Conyers just stepped out for lunch.”
    “Did she say where she was going?” he asked.
    The receptionist paused and then asked. “Who may I ask is calling?”
    “This is Mr. Westmoreland.”
    “Oh, Mr. Westmoreland, how are you? Your wife and baby were here a couple of days ago, and your daughter looks just like you.”
    Derringer shook his head. Evidently the woman thought he was Ramsey, which was okay with him if he could get the information he wanted out of her.
    “I take that as a compliment. Did Lucia say where she was going for lunch?”
    “Yes, sir. She’s dining at McKay’s today.”
    “Thanks.”
    “You’re welcome, sir.”
    Derringer hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair as an idea formed in his mind. He wouldn’t let her know he had found out the truth about her visit. He would let her assume that she had gotten away with it and that he didn’t have a clue that she was the woman who’d taken advantage of him that night.
    And then when she least expected it, he would play his hand.

Three
    S omething, Lucia wasn’t sure exactly what, made her glance over her menu and look straight into the eyes of Derringer Westmoreland. She went completely still as he moved in fluid precision toward her, with an unreadable expression on his face.
    Staring at him, taking him all in, all six-three of him, while broad shoulders flexed beneath a blue Western shirt, and a pair of jeans clung to him like a second layer