Memories for Eternity - Brenda Jackson Mills & Boon Kimani Arabesque

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control of the situation and he saw her eyes go from sensuous to serious. “I need to know before I make any decision about staying here with you.”

      He frowned. Was she afraid of him? He covered the distance separating them and came to a stop in front of her. Forcing her to look up at him, become the main focus of her attention. “Let me explain one thing about me, Alyssa,” he said in a voice that he knew had her complete attention. “You don’t have anything to fear if you stay here, least of all me. You set the boundaries and I will abide by them. I don’t have a woman in my life right now, nor do I need one. What you see down there is my life. You are my wife in name only. I will remember that. I will respect that. But after the thirty days I expect you to go, just like I’m sure you’ll want to leave. I don’t have time for involvements. The only thing long-term in my life is this ranch and the running of it and the foundation. Those things are all I need. They are all I want.”

      At his blunt words she asked, “Then why did you kiss me?”

      Clint saw her eyes were flashing and knew she was beginning to take what he was saying personally. “The reason we kissed each other,” he said slowly, “is because of a number of things. Curiosity. Need. Desire. It was best that we took care of all three before we got to the ranch. Trust me, you won’t become an itch that I’ll be tempted to scratch.”

      Alyssa frowned, not sure she liked the way he’d said that. Had he found her kiss so lacking that he’d not be tempted to do it again? Kim had always said when it came to men she presented no appeal, or that she wouldn’t recognize pleasure if it came up to her and bit her. Clint had certainly made a liar out of her cousin. Under his lips she had definitely recognized pleasure. She had actually drowned in it.

      “Now,” he said, interrupting her thoughts. “Do you want to go down to the ranch with me or would you prefer that I take you back into town?”

      She glared at him. “I haven’t made up my mind about anything.”

      “I didn’t say you had. I just want you to have peace of mind in doing so.”

      Behind Clinton’s terse words, she suspected he was low on tolerance. But then she’d come to that same conclusion earlier at the diner. She glanced down the valley at the ranch and then she glanced back at Clint. “I’m still staying at the ranch for the night.”

      “Then let’s go. I’ve got plenty to do when I get there.”

      When they got back in the truck and he turned the ignition, she glanced out the window when the truck started moving. She had gotten her real taste of passion from the man who was her husband—at least on paper. And she had surrendered without thought or hesitation.

      For some reason she sensed a wild streak in Clint, one that he probably didn’t even know was there. A wildness she detected, one that had almost come out in their kiss. As far as she was concerned the man had desire bottled and it was fighting to become uncorked. If it ever broke free she didn’t want to think of the consequences, the combustion or the fiery, hot passion.

      And if that happened, was there a woman in this world who would be able to tame Clint Westmoreland? she wondered.

      Chapter 4

      Inviting Alyssa to spend the night at the ranch wasn’t the smartest thing he’d ever done, Clint decided.

      From the cliff the ranch house looked huge. But when you stood directly in front of it and got a close-up view, you got a clear picture of just how spacious it was. He hoped Alyssa would decide that in a house as large as his they could easily avoid each other for four short weeks.

      The front door opened and Chester walked out. The man, who for years had been Clint’s cook, housekeeper, and if there was need, ranch hand, was big. He stood at least six-four and weighed over two hundred and fifty pounds. At sixty-five he looked intimidating and mean as a bear. Once you got to know him, however, it didn’t take long to see he was as soft and easygoing as a teddy bear.

      Clint knew that Chester considered himself a surrogate father to the triplets. The old man was quick to brag that he’d helped Doc Shaw deliver the three. For that reason—in Clint’s opinion—Chester lived under the false assumption that he knew what was best for them. He had been the one to convince Clint and Cole to find the father they hadn’t known they had, and the one to talk Casey into building a relationship with their father.

      And now with Casey happily married and living in Montana, Chester was on a bandwagon to get Clint and Cole to follow suit. He felt marriage should be in their future plans, the not-so-distant future. Chester claimed he wanted them to find the bliss he’d found in his own happy marriage of over thirty years. His beloved wife Ada died a few years ago. Even now everyone still missed the presence of the gentle and kind woman who had been the love of Chester’s life.

      Clint saw the way Chester was sizing Alyssa up. The old man was trying to see if she appeared sturdy enough to handle the roughness of a working ranch, and if she had enough brawn to handle Clint. According to Chester, the Golden Glade Ranch needed a mistress who was strong in both mind and body. Clint knew Chester believed Clint needed a woman who could take him on with fortitude.

      He had told Chester that morning about the agency’s mistake. Now he dreaded telling the old man he and Alyssa were being forced to live as man and wife for thirty days. Chester would somehow see such a thing as a sign that somebody up there was trying to tell Clint something. Clint easily recognized the calculating look in Chester’s eyes and frowned.

      “I know I’ve said it already, Clint, but your home is beautiful,” Alyssa said.

      Alyssa’s words reclaimed Clint’s attention. He moved his gaze from Chester and back to her. The side of her face was highlighted by the sun. The soft glow of her features made him remember their kiss and how good she had tasted. Even now he wouldn’t mind devouring her mouth again, relishing her taste once more. She glanced over at him and he felt a fierce tug in his stomach. He didn’t like the feeling one damn bit.

      Knowing she expected a response from him, he said, “Thanks. Let me introduce you to Chester and then I’ll show you around.”

      As if impatient for an introduction, Chester came down the steps and went directly to Alyssa, offered her his hand and gave a half laugh and said, “Welcome to the Golden Glade. So you’re Clint’s wife. We’re mighty glad to have you.” Before she could respond he added, “And you’re just what Clint needs around here.”

      And at that moment, Clint actually felt like slugging him.

      * * *

      The man’s words drew Alyssa up short. It was true that she and Clint were legally married, but as far as she was concerned it was nothing more than a mistake on paper. A mistake that needed to be rectified. But a comment like that made her aware of the seriousness of their situation and just how quickly they needed to resolve the matter.

      Not sure how to respond to Chester, Alyssa decided not to address his statement of their marital status and to accept his comment on the ranch by saying, “It’s a beautiful ranch.”

      Clint had walked around the truck and appeared at her side. She glanced up at him and saw he was frowning at the older man. Evidently he hadn’t appreciated the reminder of their situation, either.

      “Thanks, and Clint is doing a fine job keeping it that way,” Chester said. “But what I’ve told him numerous times is that what this ranch needs is a—”

      “Alyssa, this is Chester. Cook and housekeeper,” Clint said, smoothly interrupting whatever it was the older man had been about to say.

      Not to be outdone the man merely nodded. “What this ranch needs is a woman’s touch,” he said as if he had not been interrupted.

      Alyssa’s thoughts began to whirl. Why would Chester make such a comment? Didn’t he know that her and Clint’s marriage wasn’t real? She gave a quick glance at Clint but his features were unreadable. Deciding it wasn’t her place to meddle in what was going on between Clint and one of

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