Taming Clint Westmoreland - Brenda Jackson [57]
That thought remained on her mind while she showered and got dressed. When she opened the door to the hall, Clint was standing against the wall waiting for her. He was dressed in a pair of jeans and a chambray shirt. As usual, he looked great.
“Good morning,” he said, smiling at her.
It was a smile that made her insides feel somewhat jittery.
“Good morning, Clint,” she said, searching his expression in an attempt to decipher his mood.
“I know you haven’t eaten breakfast yet, but I was wondering if you would go riding with me this morning. I promise not to keep you out long.”
“Sure,” she said and shrugged.
They walked together through the house. The place seemed rather quiet, especially for a house full of guests. It was after eight in the morning. She had discovered over the past few days that the Westmorelands were early risers.
“Where’s everyone?”
“Sleeping in late, I guess,” Clint said.
“Oh.”
When they walked outside she saw two horses were saddled and ready for them. Clint helped her mount Sunshine, the docile mare he had given her to ride, and then he mounted Royal. She glanced over at him.
“Where are we going?”
“To the south ridge,” he said mysteriously.
She nodded. They hadn’t ridden on that part of his property in a while. Thanks to Clint she felt comfortable riding and appreciated the slow pace he set for them. They rode in silence, enjoying the beautiful morning.
They had been riding for a while when Clint finally brought the horses to a stop. “This is a nice place to stop,” he said, glancing over at her.
For what? she couldn’t help wondering. Was he going to ask her to leave the ranch? Had he figured out that the best way to end their farce of a marriage and quickly was to forget the annulment and file for a quick divorce instead?
She watched as Clint dismounted from Royal and tied him to a tree before coming back to help her off of Sunshine. He tied Sunshine to a tree, as well.
“Come on,” Clint said, reaching for her hand. “Let’s take a walk so we can talk.”
She pulled her hand back. “Talking isn’t necessary. I know what you want.”
His brows drew together. “Do you?”
“Yes, I do,” she said.
“And what do you think I want?” he asked, leaning against an oak tree.
She glanced around instead of looking at him and then she brought her gaze back to his.
“You want to skip the annulment and go straight to a divorce,” Alyssa said.
Clint could only stare at her. What she had said was so far from the truth it was pitiful. What had happened last night at the ball had been an eye-opener for him. When Kim had said those insulting remarks his protective instincts had kicked in. He had immediately wanted to shield her from any kind of hurt, harm or danger.
Something else had also kicked in. His heart. He realized at that moment how much he cared for her. He loved her. And he wanted to always be by her side to protect her from the Kims and Kevins of the world. For him it wasn’t a matter of lust, as he had first assumed. He realized now that his feelings for Alyssa were a matter of love. He couldn’t imagine her leaving him or the ranch next week. He had no intentions of letting her go and the sooner she knew it the better.
“There will be no divorce, Alyssa. And there won’t be an annulment,” he said as he took a step toward her.
“What are you saying?”
A smile touched his lips and he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small box and opened it. There was a beautiful wedding ring in the box.
“I’m saying that what I want is to marry you all over again. Make it truly right this time. Since the laws of Texas declare we’re already man and wife, let’s make it real. Let’s renew our vows,” he said.
He then got down on one knee and glanced up at her.
“Alyssa, will you continue to be my wife, till death us do part?”
Alyssa was shocked speechless. Tears flooded her eyes. She shook her head and tried wiping the tears away with her hand—the one Clint wasn’t slipping the ring onto.
“But—but you can’t want to stay married to me. You don’t love me,” she said.
Satisfied the ring was a perfect fit, Clint