Taming Clint Westmoreland - Brenda Jackson [61]
Seven A lyssa glanced around Clint’s office thinking how the one in her home was a lot smaller. She loved her small apartment. It was just the right size for her. All she needed was a kitchen, bedroom, bath and working space. She had considered the living and dining rooms as a bonus. She studied the different pictures on the wall and recognized the one of Sid Roberts. Another showed a woman with three little ones—about the age of five or six—at her side. She knew that it was a picture of Clint, his mother and two siblings. There was another framed photograph of his mother alone. She was beautiful and Alyssa could easily see Clint’s resemblance to her; the likeness seemed very strong. She thought that Clint favored his mother until she saw yet another photograph of a man she immediately decided had to be Clint’s father. Any resemblance she’d attributed to his mother dimmed when she compared the image of Clint she had in her mind to the picture of his father. Clint had his father’s domin
Eight T he next morning Alyssa entered the kitchen to find Clint already sitting at the table drinking coffee. She frowned. She had hoped to get up before him and have breakfast started. “Chester said he usually doesn’t start cooking until around five o’clock. You’re up early,” she said, glancing at him while going straight to the sink to wash her hands. A smile touched the corners of his lips as he shrugged one broad shoulder. “I thought I’d have a cup of coffee while watching you work,” he said. She raised her chin defiantly. “You don’t think I can handle things?” Alyssa asked in an accusing tone. “Oh, trust me. I believe you can handle things. Chester wouldn’t let you in his kitchen if he thought otherwise. I just wanted to watch you do it and offer my help if you need it,” he said. “Thanks.” “Don’t mention it.” A short while later Alyssa wondered if she’d been too quick to give Clint her thanks. Each time she moved around the kitchen she felt his eyes on her and had a feeling his i
Nine I t was late afternoon before Clint and Alyssa returned to the ranch. In addition to shopping, Clint had suggested they see a movie. He could tell that Alyssa had been surprised by his suggestion. There were ten movies showing and they had narrowed their selections down to two. They couldn’t decide which of the two to see, so they ended up viewing both. Clint had enjoyed Alyssa’s company immensely. He’d discovered several new facets of her character. For instance, Alyssa loved Mexican food and she was thrilled about her work as a Web designer. During the course of the day, she’d explained the process of setting up a Web site and how each design was tailored to the individual needs of each client. She’d also gone into detail about search engines and how invaluable they were to anyone who frequented the Internet. They ate lunch at the mall food court and he had enjoyed watching her eat every single bite of her meal. In fact, he had gotten turned on just from watching her eat. Was th
Ten S till holding her hand in his, Clint moved around the desk to gently pull her up from her seat and into his arms. He knew she had to see the desire flaring in his eyes, had to know from his aroused state just how much he wanted her. And he did want her and had from the first, when he’d seen her at the airport. Leaning slightly, he took the liberty to place his open hands over her bottom, bringing her closer to him, and groaned through clenched teeth when he felt her softness come to rest against his hardness. Desire ripped into him, adding to the heat that was already there. “Alyssa.” He moaned her name just moments before covering her mouth with his, devouring with an intensity that shook him to the core. He’d become familiar with her taste, the very essence of her flavor, and each time his mouth was reacquainted with it, one part of him wanted to savor it slowly, while the other part wanted to devour her whole. He was too far gone to savor yet he refused to be rushed. He wanted
Eleven A lyssa went stiff. From Clint’s expression