Taming Clint Westmoreland - Brenda Jackson [31]
“Is something wrong?”
She blinked. “No. Why?”
“You’re staring. You have a tendency to do that a lot when we eat together. Is there a reason why?”
Alyssa shifted in her seat. There was no way she could tell him that she found watching him eat fascinating…and a total turn on. He seemed to appreciate every piece he put into his mouth. And the way he would take his time to chew it, methodically getting all he could from each bite, let her know he would make love to her the same way. Given the chance, Clint would savor her in the same way that he ate. Goose bumps formed on her arms at the thought of it.
“No reason,” she said after pausing for a moment to gather her thoughts. “It’s just that I’m totally in awe of how much you eat.”
He lifted a brow. “And I’m in awe as to how little you eat. You remind me of Casey. She eats like a bird, as well,” he said.
She heard the fondness in his voice for his sibling. “I appreciate your sharing her clothes with me. I hope she won’t mind,” she said.
“She won’t,” he said, effectively closing discussion on the subject. “Will you be using the computer later?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m through for the day. I thought I might look through that folder you were telling me about on your uncle’s foundation. Why?”
“Because I need to use it to log in the information on the horses we got in today,” he said. He glanced at his watch as he pushed his plate aside. It was clean. “I play cards with the men on Wednesday night so I’ll be leaving the house again after logging in that information. And I won’t be back until way after midnight,” he said with a smile. “I’m telling you this just in case you want to play another game on the computer later. I promise not to interrupt you this time.”
“This is your house, Clint. You have free rein of any place in it.”
He cocked his head and looked at her. “Even your bedroom?”
The glint in his eyes indicated that he was teasing her. At least she hoped he was.
“No. According to our agreement bedrooms are off-limits,” she said.
“Um, that really doesn’t bother me. The bedroom is one of the places I least like for making love,” he said slyly.
She suddenly felt like she was under the influence of some sort of drug. Sensations were surging through her, touching all parts of her body, but especially the area between her thighs.
“What is your favorite place?” she couldn’t help asking.
Alyssa stared as he put his glass of lemonade down. His gaze was intent on holding hers. She tried fighting it but she was being pulled into his sensuous web.
He smiled and that smile, like his words, touched her all over. It added kerosene to her already blazing fire. “Before the thirty days are up,” he said in a deep, throaty voice, as his gaze held hers, “I intend to show you.”
An hour or so later Alyssa stood at her bedroom window and watched as Clint walked across the yard to the bunkhouse, which meant his office was empty again. She needed to think and wanted a quiet place to do so. His office was the perfect place.
The man was getting to her in a big way and he was doing so with a degree of confident arrogance that astounded her. He wasn’t pushy or demanding. He wasn’t even using manipulating tactics. He was merely being his own sexy self.
Before the thirty days are up, I intend to show you.
Those words were still ringing in her ears, still causing an ache in parts of her body that aches had never invaded before. The area between her thighs was actually throbbing. Clint had basically assured her that he would make love to her at some point before she left his ranch. Such a statement was bold, bigheaded…and heaven help her, probably true.
She inhaled sharply. How could she of all people, someone who rebuffed men’s sexual advances with mediocre kindness, even contemplate