A smile touched Alyssa's lips. Her aunt was trying to play matchmaker again. "Of course that's what I want. It's what Clint and I both want. We don't know each other and like he said, we are victims of someone's mistake. I really don't think it's fair that we have to suffer because of it," Alyssa explained.

She heard her aunt chuckling. "I can't imagine having to suffer if I was to live under the same roof with a gorgeous man...and you did say he was gorgeous, didn't you?"

Yes, she had said that, and had meant it, as well. Clint's physical features were something she could not lie about. And that in itself was the kicker. Kevin had been a good-looking man but he couldn't hold a candle to Clint. She had never been this aware of a man in her life. "Yes, Auntie, he is a hunk."

"Then I suggest that you stay right there in Austin since your only other option is to bring him here to live. Can you imagine all the commotion that would cause? And it would give Kim another excuse to sharpen her claws and do some damage."

Alyssa had thought of that. She wanted to believe that Clint would not be the weakling that Kevin had been and that he would be able to resist Kim's charms. But usually all it took was for any man to set eyes on Kim and they were done for. Men would actually pause when she walked into a room. Too bad beauty was only skin deep, Alyssa thought.

"I'll ship you some things, Alyssa. Besides, a month away from this circus of a family will do you some good," Claudine said.

Funny, she had thought the same thing. "I have to think things through tonight and give Clint my decision in the morning. If I decide to stay I'll let you know."

"All right, I won't say anything to the others. Eleanor's daughter swears she saw Kim and Kevin together at some nightclub. Can you imagine the two of them seeing each other again after all they did to you? We heard Kevin got a promotion with that company he works for. That's probably why Kim is back in the picture. She's determined to land a rich husband one way or the other."

In a perverse way Alyssa wished her cousin the best. Even with all the low-down and underhanded things that Kim had done, Alyssa couldn't find it in her heart to hate her. She had tried when she'd gotten those photos of Kim and Kevin in bed together, but now all she could do was feel pity for them both. The thought that he and Kim were seeing each other no longer bothered her. Any love she might have had for him ended the day that should have been her wedding day. If Kim was the type of woman he preferred then more power to him.

She wondered just what type of woman Clint would prefer. She could see a beautiful woman in his arms, in his bed, giving birth to his babies. Alyssa was certain she didn't fit the criteria for Clint's dream woman. She was of average design and she didn't fit the "dream-woman" mold. The only reason they were married now was because of someone's screwup. Even when they'd worked together he hadn't given her a second thought, although they had shared a hotel room for a week. Alyssa could not forget sharing such close quarters with him, inhaling his scent, breathing the same air, or sitting across a table and sharing food with Clint Westmoreland.

That made her think of the meal they had shared less than an hour ago. Chester had prepared a delicious meal, but it had been just the two of them. She couldn't help but notice that the older man, although still extremely friendly, hadn't been as chatty as he'd been when she had first arrived. Clint must have said something to him, probably warning him not to put foolish ideas into her head. Not that he could have. She was a realist, almost too much so at times-at least that's what Aunt Claudine claimed. Alyssa would be the first to admit that her dreams of forever after had gotten destroyed the moment she had seen those pictures on her wedding day. It would be hard, nearly impossible for anyone to make a believer out of her again.

She heard a noise outside her bedroom window and crossed the room to see what had caused it. The sun had set and dusk had settled in. One of the floodlights that were shining from the side of the house provided enough brightness for her to see Clint as he leaned against a post talking with two of his men.

It was hard not to take an a.s.sessment of Clint each and every time she saw him. From the window, she couldn't see every single detail, but she had a clear view of his thighs. He was standing with his legs braced apart and the muscles that filled his jeans were taut and firm. Just looking at him standing there in that s.e.xy pose made her pulse race. She was actually feeling breathless. This was her reaction to the man whom she was supposed to live with for thirty days? This was her reaction to the man whom she was supposed to live with for thirty days? She doubted she would be able to get through one day living with him let alone thirty. She was well aware from what he'd said earlier that day about his ability to control his desire if they decided to live together. He had basically given his word that he would abide by any boundaries that she set. She doubted she would be able to get through one day living with him let alone thirty. She was well aware from what he'd said earlier that day about his ability to control his desire if they decided to live together. He had basically given his word that he would abide by any boundaries that she set.

While she was thinking about what boundaries she would establish if she decided to stay, he turned toward the window as if somehow he'd felt her presence there. Their gazes locked. Held. And it seemed at that moment something, a tangible connection she could not define, pa.s.sed between them. It was as if some understanding had been made, but for the life of her she didn't know what it was.

Dazed and more than a little confused, she took a step back on wobbly knees at the same time she dropped the curtain back in place to shield her from his view. She knew she had to rein in her uncontrollable imagination, urges and l.u.s.t. If he could control his then she most certainly should be able to get a handle on hers. But she had to admit what she was experiencing was not something she encountered every day. She simply had never been the type of woman to get goggle-eyed over a man. But ever since she'd arrived in Austin, she had been doing that very thing.

Sighing deeply, she moved toward the bathroom hoping her new state of mind was something she got over real soon.

Clint frowned as he walked down the long hallway toward his bedroom. It was way past midnight. After taking care of the evening ch.o.r.es, he had hung around the bunkhouse and played a game of cards with some of his men.

He had stayed away from the house as long as he could, and now he was back inside. His mind wandered to what had happened earlier. He'd been standing out in the yard talking to a couple of his men until he happened to notice Alyssa staring at him from her bedroom window. He'd done the only thing he could do at the time, which was to stare back.

It seemed that against his will, his gaze had locked on hers. It was plain to see that Alyssa was getting to him and the brazen images of her that had been forming in his mind all day weren't helping. h.e.l.l, he may have bitten off more than he could chew in asking her to stay under his roof. If only there had been another way for them to end their marriage, he mused. Surely there was someone he could talk to about it.

His cousin Jared immediately came to mind. Jared was the attorney in the family. His specialty was the handling of divorce cases. Perhaps his cousin could give him some advice. He checked his watch. Jared was usually up late at night and Clint turned in the direction of his office, deciding to give his cousin a call.

He pushed open his office door and paused. There, sitting at his desk in front of his computer, was Alyssa. She hadn't heard him enter, and so he just stood for a moment and gazed at her. The soft lighting from the lamp, as well as the glow from the computer screen, seemed to beam on her, highlighting her features. Her hair was no longer hanging around her shoulders. She had pulled it up into a knot at the back of her neck.

Her full attention was on the computer screen and he watched her as she sat in front of it. Her head was tilted in such a way that showed off the slimness of her neck and her shoulders. She sat with perfect posture.

She seemed to be wearing an oversize T-shirt. On anyone else there probably would not have been a single provocative thing about her attire, but on Alyssa, just the part he saw was totally alluring. The way she was sitting made the shirt stretch tight across her chest, and he could plainly see the tips of her nipples. She wasn't wearing a bra. His fingers seemed to twitch and he knew he would love the feel of his fingers slowly stroking the budded tips.

His gaze moved to her face at the same time she parted her lips in a smile before she released a satisfied chuckle. Clint shifted his gaze from her lips to the computer screen to see what held her concentration. She was playing one of those games you downloaded off the Internet. Alyssa. Alyssa. She was busy trying to accomplish some goal and from the look of things, she was succeeding. She was busy trying to accomplish some goal and from the look of things, she was succeeding.

Deciding it was time to let her know that he was there, he stepped into the room. "Umm, that looks interesting. Can I play?"

She whirled in her seat and startled dark eyes seemed to clash with his as she stood abruptly. "I'm sorry. I should have asked to use your computer before-"

"You didn't have to ask, Alyssa," he said, interrupting her apology. "You are more than welcome to use it. Please sit back down and continue what you were doing. You seem to be having fun. What is it?"

She hesitated briefly before retaking her seat. Slowly her gaze slid from him to the computer screen. The one thing he had noticed when she stood was that the T-shirt was even more sensually appealing than he'd first thought. It barely covered her thighs and if that wasn't bad enough, it outlined her curves in a way that had blood racing through his veins.

"It's a game called Playing with Fire," she said softly and he had a feeling he was making her nervous. She glanced back over at him. "Have you ever played Atomic Bomberman before?"

He smiled, inwardly fighting the acute desire he felt at that moment. "No, I don't believe that I have," he said.

"Oh. Playing with Fire is sort of a flashy remake of Atomic Bomberman. The object of the game is to blow up your opponent before they blow you up," she explained.

Clint chuckled. "That sounds rather interesting. I take it you like playing games on the computer."

She shrugged. "Yes, it's a way for me to unwind. Whenever I can't sleep I usually get up and play a game or two," she said.

He leaned against the closed door. "I see. Is there a reason you can't sleep?" Already his mind was thinking of his own version of Playing with Fire and the various ways it could be played. "Is the bed not comfortable?" Although he wished it wouldn't go there, his mind quickly thought of her in that huge bed alone.

"No, the bed is fine, really comfortable," she responded with what he denoted as a soft chuckle before adding, "It's just that I'm not used to sleeping in any bed but my own."

"I see."

She cleared her throat before standing again. "Well, I don't want to keep you out of your office," she uttered as she prepared to leave.

"You're not. I had come in to use the phone, but I can make the call from my bedroom just as easily. I'll leave you to your game." He paused a second then asked, "By the way, who's winning?"

He saw the smile that touched her lips, the sparkle that lit her eyes and the proud lifting of her chin. "I am, of course," she answered.

"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. .h.i.tting him all at once, and when she returned the kiss-their tongues partic.i.p.ated in one h.e.l.l of a heated duel-a disturbing acceptance entered his mind. He was not p.r.o.ne to giving in to s.e.xual 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 h.e.l.l was wrong with him? What the h.e.l.l 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 b.r.e.a.s.t.s 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 b.r.e.a.s.t.s 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 s.e.xier 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? 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. 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 h.e.l.l out of him. He was a man known to have a mult.i.tude of control. In the past when l.u.s.t 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-pa.s.sion. When would the attraction she had for him wear off? What if it never did? 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 embarra.s.sing. 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 a.s.sumed 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.

Six.

A lyssa'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. lyssa'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 pa.s.sion 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 mere likeness of 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."

She didn't say anything for a few moments and then met his gaze. "Before I commit to anything, I want you to agree to something," she said.

He lifted a dark brow. "Agree to what?"

"Agree that you won't try to get me into your bed."

He smiled. "My bed?"

"Or any bed in this house." She thought it best to clarify. "And to be more specific, I want your word that you won't try to seduce me into bed with you."