Taming Clint Westmoreland - Brenda Jackson [33]
She chuckled. “Thanks to Aunt Claudine, I would have to agree. I helped her out with feeding the homeless at least once a week. I never thought doing so would come in handy one day,” she said heartily. “It felt good doing it. Chester has everything so well organized. This kitchen is a cook’s dream.”
“And you, Alyssa Barkley, are a man’s dream,” he said in a low voice.
He leaned forward and she knew he was going to kiss her. Just then she heard the sound of footsteps on the back porch. She took a step back.
“The guys are coming for the food,” she said softly.
“So I hear,” he said silkily and took a step back, as well. He glanced at his watch. “It’s time for me to go, anyway.”
“You’re not going to stay and eat breakfast?” she asked quickly, before she could stop herself. Alyssa prayed he hadn’t heard the disappointment in her voice.
“I’m going to eat with the men in the bunkhouse before leaving.” And then before she could blink, he had recovered the steps and placed a tender kiss on her lips. “I’ll see you in a couple of days.”
Alyssa nodded, thinking she could definitely use two days without him hovering about. She would have two full days to get her head screwed back on right.
That first day Alyssa was still convinced that distance was just what she needed from Clint. She was glad he would be away from the ranch. Once her boxes had arrived, she’d taken the time to unpack. Her aunt had sent her everything she needed, from an adequate supply of clothes for the chilly days of February yet to come, to a sufficient supply of underwear.
By the second day Alyssa found herself glancing out the window wondering if perhaps Clint would return a day early—even though she tried to convince herself that she really didn’t want him to. She enjoyed her talks with Chester and a few of the ranch hands who had remained behind.
On the third day, Alyssa paced the floor in his office when she couldn’t sit still long enough to work at the computer. And every time she heard a commotion outside the window she found herself racing toward it to see if it was Clint returning. By late evening after sharing dinner with Chester, she found herself standing on the front porch staring out into the distance. She was reminded of a woman standing on the shore waiting for her man to return from the sea. The comparison struck her. For the first time since coming to Austin, she began to realize that her emotions were getting too deep. It was becoming obvious to Alyssa that she was developing feelings for Clint.
She sighed deeply, knowing it didn’t make sense. They had been reunited just days ago. The only excuse she could come up with was that Clint Westmoreland—with his arrogant confidence and untamed sensuality—was more virile than Kevin could ever hope to be. She hadn’t been involved with a man since that fateful day—her wedding day.
Finding out Kevin had been unfaithful had been a blow, but what had been even more of a shocker was the very idea that he felt they should forget what he’d done and move on. She couldn’t move on. Instead she had sought to protect her heart from further damage the only way she knew how—avoid any personal dealings with men. She had responded in just the way Kim had counted on.
Alyssa had long ago accepted that her cousin didn’t want her to be happy and didn’t want Alyssa to have a man in her life. The thought of Alyssa having a man who loved her, who wanted to give her his world and his babies was something Kim was determined to prevent.
She knew Aunt Claudine was right when she would say that she needed to move on and not give Kim the victory. But she hadn’t met a man worthy of such a task…until now.
Clint Westmoreland made her want to take a chance on living again in a way she had denied herself for almost two years. And even if it was only for the time she stayed on his ranch, she knew that she wouldn’t have to worry about Kim being around to sabotage her relationship with Clint. Alyssa was smart enough to know that any relationship that she developed with him wouldn’t last. At the end of the thirty