Taming Clint Westmoreland - Brenda Jackson [12]
“Bottle your desire for thirty days.” He watched as she inhaled deeply, drew herself up as if she was trying to take back control of the situation and he saw her eyes go from sensuous to serious. “I need to know before I make any decision about staying here with you.”
He frowned. Was she afraid of him? He covered the distance separating them and came to a stop in front of her. Forcing her to look up at him, become the main focus of her attention. “Let me explain one thing about me, Alyssa,” he said in a voice that he knew had her complete attention. “You don’t have anything to fear if you stay here, least of all me. You set the boundaries and I will abide by them. I don’t have a woman in my life right now, nor do I need one. What you see down there is my life. You are my wife in name only. I will remember that. I will respect that. But after the thirty days I expect you to go, just like I’m sure you’ll want to leave. I don’t have time for involvements. The only thing long-term in my life is this ranch and the running of it and the foundation. Those things are all I need. They are all I want.”
At his blunt words she asked, “Then why did you kiss me?”
Clint saw her eyes were flashing and knew she was beginning to take what he was saying personally. “The reason we kissed each other,” he said slowly, “is because of a number of things. Curiosity. Need. Desire. It was best that we took care of all three before we got to the ranch. Trust me, you won’t become an itch that I’ll be tempted to scratch.”
Alyssa frowned, not sure she liked the way he’d said that. Had he found her kiss so lacking that he’d not be tempted to do it again? Kim had always said when it came to men she presented no appeal, or that she wouldn’t recognize pleasure if it came up to her and bit her. Clint had certainly made a liar out of her cousin. Under his lips she had definitely recognized pleasure. She had actually drowned in it.
“Now,” he said, interrupting her thoughts. “Do you want to go down to the ranch with me or would you prefer that I take you back into town?”
She glared at him. “I haven’t made up my mind about anything.”
“I didn’t say you had. I just want you to have peace of mind in doing so.”
Behind Clinton’s terse words, she suspected he was low on tolerance. But then she’d come to that same conclusion earlier at the diner. She glanced down the valley at the ranch and then she glanced back at Clint. “I’m still staying at the ranch for the night.”
“Then let’s go. I’ve got plenty to do when I get there.”
When they got back in the truck and he turned the ignition, she glanced out the window when the truck started moving. She had gotten her real taste of passion from the man who was her husband—at least on paper. And she had surrendered without thought or hesitation.
For some reason she sensed a wild streak in Clint, one that he probably didn’t even know was there. A wildness she detected, one that had almost come out in their kiss. As far as she was concerned the man had desire bottled and it was fighting to become uncorked. If it ever broke free she didn’t want to think of the consequences, the combustion or the fiery, hot passion.
And if that happened, was there a woman in this world who would be able to tame Clint Westmoreland? she wondered.
Four
I nviting Alyssa to spend the night at the ranch wasn’t the smartest thing he’d ever done, Clint decided.
From the cliff the ranch house looked huge. But when you stood directly in front of it and got a close-up view, you got a clear picture of just how spacious it was. He hoped Alyssa would decide that in a house as large as his they could easily avoid each other for four short weeks.
The front door opened and Chester walked out. The man, who for years had been Clint’s cook, housekeeper, and if there was need, ranch hand, was big. He stood at least six-four and weighed over two hundred and fifty pounds. At sixty-five he looked intimidating and mean as a bear. Once you got to know him, however, it didn’t take long to see he was as soft and easygoing