Wed to the Texan / Taming Clint Westmoreland: Wed to the Texan. Brenda Jackson

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Wed to the Texan / Taming Clint Westmoreland: Wed to the Texan - Brenda Jackson

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for Emily to do, and he realized he was keeping her overtime, but she’d said it didn’t matter.

      At six, Jake grabbed his gray suit coat and headed for the door. He was surprised to spot Emily still busy at her computer. He strode over to her desk. “We’re through, Emily. Go home.”

      She smiled. “I’m getting something ready for morning.”

      He reached down and pulled the plug on her computer. “Get your things. I’ll take you to dinner with me.”

      Emily’s wide blue eyes looked startled. “You don’t need to—”

      “I know I don’t. Are you free this evening?”

      “Yes,” she replied, “but really, dinner isn’t necessary.”

      “I want to.” To his amusement, she appeared to be debating with herself. He couldn’t recall a woman doing that since he was thirteen years old and wanted a neighbor girl to go to a school dance. “It’s just dinner, Emily,” he added.

      She blushed, getting her purse out of her desk and coming to join him, while gazing at him with a perplexed look as if he had sprouted another head.

      “There isn’t a man in your life who’ll mind if we have dinner together, is there?” he asked.

      “Not at all,” she snapped. He wondered if she was as soured on dating as he was.

      While he held the door, she strolled through ahead of him and he caught a faint whiff of a pleasant perfume. His gaze slid down her back. Covered by her black jacket and long dark-green skirt, he could tell little about her body. But with the urgent need to find a wife on his mind, he stared more intently at Emily.

      Proposing to her was a preposterous idea. They were worlds apart in lifestyles. But as he walked her to his car, he reconsidered. In his elegant, black, four-door Maserati he shed his suit coat and tie and unfastened the top buttons of his shirt. Most women gushed over his expensive luxury cars. Emily’s cool expression indicated mild disapproval. How intriguing! What kind of woman could ignore his money?

      At the steakhouse they sat and Jake ordered a bottle of wine. When they were alone, he reached across the table to take off her fake glasses and hand them to her. “I know you don’t need these,” he said. Her blue eyes, with their thick lashes were beautiful. She had shed her jacket, and while her beige cotton blouse was loose-fitting, it was shapely enough for him to realize she had some curves.

      Smiling at him, she put away the glasses. “I forget I’m wearing them. You’re right, I don’t need them.”

      “So tell me about yourself. How do you spend your free time? I gather there’s no man in your life right now.”

      “No, and there won’t be one for a while. Things didn’t work out well the last time,” she said with a note of bitterness. “Maybe I expect too much.”

      “Like what?”

      She shrugged. “Someone compatible. A person I enjoy being with. A man who likes my family.”

      “Ah, so family is important to you. You hope to marry and have your own family someday. Right?”

      “It’s the most important thing in life,” she said, and then bit her lip. “I suppose it’s not to you. I know professional success means a lot to you. You work almost around the clock and through the weekends.”

      “Money and career are important, but I want marriage and children, too,” he said, speculating. “I don’t always keep my nose to the grindstone,” he added with amusement, thinking about his yacht and mountain home. “Tell me about your family.”

      Her father was a minister, both her parents lived in Dallas, and she had three married brothers and one married sister. She drank only a sip of her wine and continued to talk through tossed salads. She was making no particular effort to charm him and definitely none to come on to him. There was no flirting, no fire, just friendly conversation—the same as at the office. She didn’t seem interested in his fortune. He found out she was thirty, only a bit younger than he was, but that didn’t matter. She had already proved herself reliable, trustworthy and intelligent. Not the qualities he usually sought in the women he took out, but perhaps that was part of his problem in finding one he could tolerate long enough to propose to.

      To Jake’s amusement, Emily asked for a box to take home her leftovers, something he hadn’t done since he’d received his first six-figured check. He’d stopped being thrifty and never intended to be again.

      As they left the restaurant, he took her arm. “The night’s still young. Let me show you my house. We can have a brandy and continue our conversation.”

      “Thank you, but I have to go home,” she said, glancing up at him. “I have a long day tomorrow. I’m a math tutor at my church.”

      When had a woman turned down an offer to see his house? His pulse quickened. Had he found the solution to his dilemma? Love would have no part in the equation. He hadn’t found love in thirty-two years and he didn’t think he would in time to get what he wanted. He needed a wife to start a family with as quickly as possible.

      “I live on Oak Avenue in an apartment complex,” she said.

      “You live close to the office.”

      “Within walking or cycling distance,” she answered, smiling at him.

      He knew he would never get invited inside her apartment, so when he turned into the wide driveway, he parked, switched off the ignition and shifted to face her. “Emily, you sound as burned out on relationships as I am.”

      “I suppose so,” she replied.

      “Yet we both want marriage and a family. Right?”

      “Yes,” she answered with a faint smile, unbuckling her seat belt and facing him. Her hand reached for the door handle.

      “I’ve been thinking about my future, Emily. And getting to know you better tonight, I’ve come to a decision. We should think about a marriage of convenience. I think we could make a marriage work. It would give us both what we want.”

      “Marriage!” she gasped, staring at him with huge eyes. Her mouth hung open, and he noticed her lips were curved, full and inviting.

      “That’s right. A marriage entered into with calm heads and logical planning. A marriage that will satisfy our needs, yet remain practical and easy. Convenient. We’ve worked together for several years now, so we’re definitely not strangers. It’s ideal.”

      “It’s preposterous!” she exclaimed.

      “No, it’s perfect,” Jake announced, taking her hand in his. It was soft, her skin smooth as satin. Feeling more certain by the minute about his decision, he gazed into her blue eyes. “Emily, will you marry me?”

      One

       Seventeen months later

      Palm fronds swayed in the gentle breeze as sunlight splashed over Jake’s sprawling white stucco villa. Standing on the veranda, Emily gazed at the sparkling jewel of a blue swimming pool with its waterfalls and fountains. Lavish landscaping with a velvet

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