Memories for Eternity: Taming Clint Westmoreland

“Now why doesn’t that surprise me? Good night, Alyssa,” he said, returning her smile.

“Good night, Clint.”

Clint turned and moved toward the door. When he felt the sudden rush of blood to his loins he muttered a curse under his breath and turned back around. Before Alyssa could blink he crossed the room and pulled her from the chair. The moment her body was pressed against his and her lips parted in a startled gasp, his mouth swept down on hers at an angle that called for deep penetration. He took hold of her tongue, wanting the taste of her again with a need that was hitting him all at once, and when she returned the kiss—their tongues participated in one hell of a heated duel—a disturbing acceptance entered his mind. He was not prone to giving in to sexual desires like this, he thought. He could get turned on just like the next guy, but never to this magnitude. His response to any woman had never been this strong, this intense, this mind-bogglingly obsessive. The more he tasted her, the more he wanted, and it wasn’t helping matters that she felt perfectly right in his arms. Her softness felt so good against his hardness. What the hell was wrong with him?

He quickly decided he would have to figure out this change in him later, but not right now. Not when she’d wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body closer to his, and not when he could feel the tips of her breasts through the cotton of his shirt. His mind began imagining all sorts of things. He imagined how it would feel to have the tips of those breasts in his mouth, to toy with them using his tongue, or how he would love to spread her on his desk and take her there. Then there was the idea of him sitting in the chair and tugging her down in his lap and...

She suddenly broke the kiss and he watched as she backed away while forcing air into her lungs. He was doing likewise. He was breathing like he had just run a marathon, but each time he inhaled, her scent filled his nostrils. It was a scent that was getting him aroused all over again.

She lifted her head to look at him and that’s when he noticed the knot in her hair had come undone and it was flowing wildly around her shoulders, making her look even sexier than before.

“Was that supposed to be a good-night kiss?” Her voice was soft and breathy.

That hadn’t been what he’d expected her to say. Actually, he had expected her to dress him down in the worse possible way. Was it possible that she was admitting that she had wanted the kiss as much as he had? She didn’t seem to be placing the blame entirely on him, although he had been the one to make the first move.

He leaned back against the door as his gaze went to her mouth. “Yes, it was a good-night kiss,” he said. “Want another one?”

“No. I doubt if I could handle it,” she responded, shaking her head.

A smile touched his lips. Again her comment had surprised him. “Sure you can. Do you want me to prove it to you?”

“No, thank you.”

He chuckled softly. “In that case, I’ll let you get back to your game.” Without giving her a chance to say anything else, he opened the door and quickly walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

He paused for a second thinking it was obvious that they had the hots for each other. If she remained under his roof there was no way he would be able to keep his hands off her. He wondered if the kisses they’d shared would be a determining factor in whether she stayed or went back to Waco. Would living together be too much of a temptation? Thirty days was a long time.

She’d said she wasn’t used to sleeping in any bed other than her own. In a way he had been glad to hear that. On the other hand, he figured she had to know that if she remained at the Golden Glade, at the rate they were going, she would eventually share his.

As he made his way toward his bedroom, thinking about the explosive chemistry between them began to annoy the hell out of him. He was a man known to have a multitude of control. In the past when lust consumed his body he had a way of dealing with it. Any available and willing woman would do. But he had a feeling that his usual solution would not work this time. His body wanted only one woman and that wasn’t good.

* * *

Alyssa released a deep breath the moment Clint closed the door behind him. It was simply amazing that one man could have that kind of effect on her. Every single time she saw him, every time he kissed her the result was the same—passion. When would the attraction she had for him wear off? What if it never did?

Maybe she needed to rethink her decision to remain at Clint’s ranch for the thirty days. It was a decision she hadn’t yet told him she’d made, only because she had mentioned that she would need to sleep on it. And she had, which was the main reason she was up now. Once the decision had been made she couldn’t get her body to go back to sleep. It had become restless and for the first time ever, fiercely aroused.

And for him to find her in his office wearing only a large T-shirt was embarrassing. But the house had been quiet for a long while and she figured everyone had gone to bed for the night. His bedroom was in a different wing and so she had assumed the coast was clear. She thought that she could sneak into his office for a while and not be noticed. But he had noticed. And so she made a new promise—no more late-night game-playing on the computer for her.

She inhaled deeply. In the morning she would tell him of her decision to stay. She would also tell him that her decision came with stipulations. He’d said earlier that day, after their first kiss, that he was able to control his desire for her. If kissing her the way he did was his desire under control, she didn’t want to think how the kiss would be with those same desires unleashed.

Chapter 6

Alyssa’s heart immediately began beating harder when she walked into the kitchen the next morning to find Clint seated at the table. Although it appeared he was just starting in on breakfast, she knew he was there waiting on her. His expression indicated that he wanted to know her decision.

She glanced around the large kitchen, trying to ignore the pulse that was erratically thumping in her throat. It was a sin and shame that Clint looked so good this early in the morning. He was staring at her with those dark, piercing eyes of his, and the way the sunlight captured the well-defined planes of his face made him appear hauntingly handsome. Alyssa found his good looks quite disturbing, given the fact she was trying to resist her attraction to him.

Seeing him only reminded her of her behavior with him last night in his office. He had once again kissed her mindless, engulfing her with a degree of passion she thought was possible only in those romance novels Aunt Claudine read. Alyssa had gone to bed dreaming about him, their kiss and the things she wanted to do with him beyond a kiss. She had awakened mortified that such thoughts had entered her mind. She would need to take steps to make sure her dreams never became a reality.

For her own sake and well-being, she had reached the conclusion that setting ground rules with Clint would be the only way they would survive living under the same roof. Otherwise, she was setting herself up for many tiring days and disturbing nights, Alyssa realized.

“Where’s Chester?” she asked.

Clint leaned back in his chair. “He’s off on Wednesdays. At least, he takes off after breakfast and then returns at dinnertime. It’s the day he’s at the children’s hospital being Snuggles the Clown.”

Alyssa lifted a brow. “Snuggles the Clown?”

“He spends his day in the children’s ward making the kids laugh. He’s been doing it for over twenty years now and he’s a big hit. That’s how he and Uncle Sid met. Chester used to be a rodeo clown,” Clint said.

At first Alyssa couldn’t picture Chester as a clown, but then as she thought about it, she changed her mind. He had a friendly air about him and would probably be someone who loved kids. She didn’t know any clowns and found the thought of him being one fascinating. “You have to love kids to do something like that,” she said.

“He does. It was unfortunate that he and Ada never had any of their own.”

“Was Ada his wife?”

“Yes. They were married over thirty years. She died six years ago from an acute case of pneumonia,” Clint explained.

“That’s sad,” she said quietly.

“It was. He took her death pretty hard. They had a very strong marriage.”

A very strong marriage. Alyssa wondered if that meant the same thing as the two of them were deeply in love. “So he’s been working at the ranch a long time?”

“Yes, Chester’s been working here since before I was born,” Clint said.

Alyssa could hear something in Clint’s voice that went beyond a mere liking for Chester. It was easy to tell that Clint considered Chester more than just a housekeeper and a cook. He considered the man an intricate part of his family. While giving her a tour of the outside of the house, he had introduced her to several of the men who worked for him. Some of them were older and full of experience in the taming of the horses. The younger ones were learning the ropes, but everyone, as Clint had been quick to point out, played an important part in the running of his operation. The men had been friendly and respectful and when he had introduced her as nothing more than a good friend, it was apparent they had accepted his word.

“You’d better dig in while the food is warm,” Clint said.

Taking his statement to mean he was tired of answering her questions, she walked over to the stove to fix her plate and pour a cup of coffee, feeling Clint’s gaze on her with every move she made.

“I’m glad you know to do that,” he said.

She turned and looked at him, bewildered. “Do what?”

“Fix your own food.”

At her confused look he said, “A lot of women wouldn’t. They would expect to be waited on hand and foot.”

Alyssa turned back around to scoop eggs onto her plate wondering if he’d ever met Kim. Her cousin would definitely be one of those type of women. Uncle Jessie still called Kim his princess and she took it literally. “Well, I’m not one of them,” she said when she came to the table to sit down. “I’m used to fending for myself.”

She had barely taken her seat when Clinton folded his arms across his chest and asked, “Okay, what have you decided?”

Instead of answering him, she stared down into the dark liquid of her coffee for a moment before glancing up at him. “Do you have to know this minute?”

“Any reason you can’t tell me this minute?” he countered, with a little irritation in his voice.

She set her cup down knowing the last thing they needed was to get agitated with each other. Besides, he was right. There wasn’t a reason she couldn’t tell him now. “No, I guess not.”