Wed to the Texan / Taming Clint Westmoreland. Brenda Jackson

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Wed to the Texan / Taming Clint Westmoreland - Brenda Jackson Mills & Boon Desire

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the evening not even speaking.

      While their lovemaking was sensational, there was no intimacy, no real emotion. Tonight, if they made love, would be no different.

      When the dance ended, she was hot, breathless. Jake took her arm lightly and they returned to their seats to find their tossed salads waiting.

      She took a long drink of ice water, trying to collect herself and stop thinking about Jake’s kisses, his hands moving over her. “Tell me about your week,” she suggested, setting down the water.

      He placed his wineglass on the table. “You’re beginning to distract me when I’m away from home. Instead of keeping my mind on business the way I always have, I find myself thinking about you.”

      “C’mon, Jake. There’s no way that I interfere with your thoughts when your mind is on business.” She didn’t believe him for a minute. Jake could focus on his job with an intensity that amazed her. “I worked for you too long to accept that.”

      He shrugged, sipped his water and set down the goblet. “Think what you will, but I’m telling the truth. I thought it might flatter you to know. I haven’t had this problem with any woman before.”

      In spite of her certainty that he was exaggerating tremendously, she felt a thrill. She was aware that he knew how to make a woman feel special, and took his compliments lightly. She often wondered if his mind was on business when he said them.

      She looked at her successful handsome husband and remembered her decisions earlier in the day. She knew she had to get him back on track and make him listen to her.

      “That’s very flattering, Jake, but it doesn’t change my feelings on our marriage. We’ve given ourselves time. I’m just not getting pregnant and I know you want a family. You talk about it every time we’re together.”

      “If I’m pressuring you, I’ll stop,” he said, placing his fork on his plate and looking at her with a direct gaze she met unwaveringly, relieved to finally get his attention.

      “No, that’s not it. I know having a son is important to you. If I get out of your life, you can find a woman who will give you one.” Tears threatened, and she clamped her lips closed and fought to control her emotions.

      She didn’t want her salad, suddenly, and set down her fork.

      He tilted up her chin to study her. “Don’t cry,” he said gently. “I’m not complaining. I’m not unhappy with you. I don’t want to get rid of you or trade you in for a different model. Will you forget all that?”

      “I find it difficult to,” she replied stiffly, hating that she couldn’t control her tears. She wished that he wasn’t being so kind.

      “Do it, anyway,” he ordered, running his index finger lightly over her cheeks to brush away her tears. “Don’t cry over something that a year from now may not be an issue between us. The minute you get pregnant, you’ll forget all about leaving.”

      “It isn’t just the pregnancy,” she said and then bit her lip as their salad plates were removed. She noticed Jake didn’t eat all of his salad, either, and she wondered whether he was as calm and self-assured as he acted.

      Lobster with melted butter and thick juicy steaks were placed in front of them, and soon they were alone again. Her appetite didn’t return as she stared at him. Raven glints in his black hair glowed in the candlelight and his thick eyelashes were dark shadows. Piano music played in the background and Emily knew this moment would be etched in her memory forever.

      “You’ve been great to me,” she replied patiently. “You’re used to the world on your terms, but this time it isn’t conforming.”

      He reached across the table to touch her cheek, his fingers brushing lightly, yet stirring sparks with the contact. “I promise you that you haven’t failed me. I don’t want another woman. I don’t want to give up on our marriage. It is working.”

      “It’s not!” she protested, more strongly than she meant to as she tried to get a grip on her emotions. “I don’t care for your materialistic life. You know I’m interested in helping people. You waste so much money. It could be used to make a better life for others. I’m a preacher’s daughter and that’s the way I’ve been raised. This isn’t my world.”

      His tolerant smile made her frustration grow. He might as well reach over and pat her on the head, she thought.

      “I’ve given you a generous bank account that I put an abundant amount into each month,” he said. “You can spend it however you see fit. I hoped you’d get more clothing, but that’s up to you. Even so, you’ve been doing charity work. You tutor, you’ve donated your time and money to lots of worthy organizations. But I’m not giving away my fortune. I grew up poor as dirt. I don’t want to go back there. We have plenty of places where we’re compatible, Em.” His voice dropped a notch. “Concentrate on the good things—magic nights, swims in the moonlight, dancing, kissing, making love for hours…”

      She drew a deep breath, trying to keep her thoughts on track and knowing how easily he could make her forget her arguments.

      “Jake, you’re not listening,” she said, trying to keep from succumbing to sexy bedroom eyes and a throaty voice. “You’re light-years from your former life,” she argued. “You’ve been generous, but you’re ambitious and materialistic. I’d prefer a simpler life. You have houses all over the world, a collection of luxury cars, tailor-made suits that cost thousands. Yet you work like you’re on your last dollar. If I did get pregnant, I’d want a husband who’s home for his child, who coaches Little League, who reads bedtime stories. You’ll never have time,” she said, her words spilling out, afraid if she didn’t say them quickly, she might never get them said.

      Smiling, he took her hand. “Dinner will keep. Let’s dance again,” he said as if he’d already dismissed everything she’d said.

      She stared at him. “Are you hearing a word I’m saying?”

      He chuckled. “Of course I am,” he said, giving a light tug on her hand. “C’mon. We’ll dance and talk.”

      Exasperated, she went with him. On the small dance floor he folded her in his arms. “Will you stop worrying about our future!” he said, laughing softly and brushing her temple with feathery kisses. “You’re stewing about Little League, which is years away at best. When I need to, I’ll rearrange my schedule.” He leaned back to look at her.

      She ran her fingers across her brow and placed her hand on his shoulder again. They were barely moving, holding each other and rocking slightly in time to the slow music. “I knew this wouldn’t be easy,” she said. “Marriage wasn’t really meant to be just a convenience for people. Love should be there. Our marriage is sterile in more ways than one.”

      “You’re complaining about my lovemaking?” he asked, his eyebrows arching.

      “Of course not!” she replied, feeling her cheeks flush with heat. “No woman could ever complain about your lovemaking,” she replied emphatically. “You know what you do to me.” Her face grew hotter. “You’re one of the sexiest men in the world.”

      “Ahh! Better! Thank goodness for that,” he remarked lightly. “I’ll increase the monthly amount I put into your bank account and you can help more people in more ways. How’s that?”

      “That

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