Ian's Ultimate Gamble - Brenda Jackson [39]
"What! You mean there's someone who doesn't remember you? That's not possible," he teased. "You're so unforgettable," he said, and grinned as he pulled the cap over her eyes, just seconds before maneuvering the cart around several trees in their paths.
Brooke shifted toward him. "Hey, let's not be a smart-ass," she said chuckling. She couldn't help wondering if he really thought that. Had he had as hard a time forgetting her as she had forgetting him over the years? But then, she'd never tried to forget him. He had remained an integral part of her nightly dreams.
When Ian continued driving for a while. Brooke asked, "Where are you taking me'?"
He smiled over at her as he drove around yet another tree. "To my private golfing spot. If I'm going to teach you the game. I don't want any distractions. Golf is like blackjack. You have to be focused."
"Oh." Just hearing him say the word blackjack was eliciting memories of the night before. And with those memories came heated lust. She wondered if it would always be that way with them and quickly remembered there wouldn't be any reason for things to be that way because in a week they would part ways and there was no telling when they would see each other again.
Not wanting to think about that, she turned her attention to her surroundings and the cart path they were taking, keeping clear of the greens and teeing grounds.
Finally Ian eased the cart to a stop and she followed his gaze as he took in the area that sat on a bluff overlooking the lake. Brooke glanced at him. "And what am I supposed to do if I hit a ball over into the water?"
He chuckled. "If you're worried that I'd send you to get it, don't be. This is going to be a practice session, and if we lose a ball we play a new one. I brought plenty of them along."
When he climbed out of the cart, Brooke did likewise and waited by his side while he got the golf bag out of the back. She couldn't help noticing how good he looked in his golf shirt and shorts.
He turned to her after placing the straps of the golf bags on his shoulders and said, "Let's go. Oh, by the way, did I mention that goIf involves a lot of walking?"
Over the next half hour he explained about golf etiquette, as well as how to score on a scorecard. "Ready to learn how to swing?" he asked, and handed her a club. He then came to stand behind her.
She was about to tell him no, that she wasn't ready and that the nearness of his body pressed against her back would make it impossible to concentrate. But evidently she was the only one with the problem. The close body contact didn't seem to bother him one bit.
Wrapping his arms around her and placing his hands on top of hers, he showed her the proper way to hold the club and swing it. "Just remember," he whispered right close to her ear, "when you're doing a backswing, make sure your body doesn't move more slowly than the club. And for a downswing," he said, demonstrating, "you don't want your body to move more quickly than your swing. Your club shouldn't play catch-up with your body."
For the next hour they went through a series of swings, some she decided would work for her and some she knew wouldn't. But her golf swings weren't the only thing she was thinking about with Ian almost glued to her back.
"Okay, when do I get to play with the balls?" she asked him, glancing up at him over her shoulder.
"Oily you would ask me something with a double meaning such as that at a time like this," he whispered huskily in her ear before pulling her body back to his, letting her know of his aroused state.
She laughed quietly, knowing what balls he was alluding to and moved away from him. "Sorry" She glanced around, trying not to look at him below the belt. "So what's next?"
"Kissing you isn't such a bad idea," he said.
They stood so close that his bare legs brushed lightly against hers. The contact