Wed to the Texan / Taming Clint Westmoreland: Wed to the Texan. Brenda Jackson
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me to work for him and really took me under his wing,” Jake said, a faraway look in his eyes. “He gave me financial backing and advice when I went on my own. No, I couldn’t have done all this by myself, much less this quickly. I became a billionaire before I was thirty. That’s due to his money, influence and the business he tossed my way.”
She recalled the frail elderly man who had round-the-clock nursing at his chalet in Switzerland. After their honeymoon, Jake had taken her to meet Hubert Braden. He could barely talk and looked as if he didn’t weigh more than eighty pounds. But his eyes lit up at the sight of Jake and she thought Jake’s visit with his new bride made him happy.
“You may be right. But as strong-willed and shrewd as you are, I suspect you would have become a billionaire without help. I don’t know why you pursue money to the extent you do. You could live easily on what you have. Why do you want more?”
“I thrive on work. Poverty was hell and I want to be as far away from it as possible. I like making money. Someday I might like to go into politics, and that takes financial backing.”
Horrified, she stared at him. “If you say, ‘I might like to go into politics,’ it translates to ‘I might like to run for president.’ You don’t do anything in a small way.”
He laughed. Creases framed his mouth as he revealed his dazzling white teeth. “I’m building a dynasty,” he answered, and she heard the steel in his voice. “I hope to have sons to leave it to.”
One more reminder that she couldn’t give him a baby. She looked away and wondered whether Jake ever thought about the world except on his terms. “That brings us back to what I want to discuss with you,” she said stiffly.
“We’ll talk soon enough when we won’t be interrupted. I see you’re all buttoned up again,” he added with amusement in his eyes.
“We’re in public,” she replied. “I’m revealing enough bare flesh. You’ll see all you want of me later, I’m sure.”
He inhaled deeply. “That thought tempts me to turn around and leave. Of course, we can get a suite here at the hotel. This is one of Ryan’s hotels.”
“The rich get richer,” she replied, wrinkling her nose at him and knowing that he and his close friends still did all sorts of favors for each other as much as they would have if they had been blood brothers.
“Let’s dance and see if we can get rid of that solemn look in your big blue eyes.” Without waiting for an answer from her, he stood and reached for her hand, giving her one of those looks that could melt her.
Reminding herself to stay firm, she followed him to the dance floor and stepped into his arms as an old ballad played.
He spun her around and dipped low, holding her easily in his strong arms. For a moment she forgot everything as he whirled and leaned over so she had to cling to him. When she gazed up into his eyes, his desire was obvious, making her heart race faster. Breathlessly, she held him as he swung her around, pulling her close.
“That’s better,” he said, smiling, a warmth in his expression that was like sunshine pouring out when clouds drifted away. She had to smile in return, briefly succumbing to Jake’s charisma and letting her worries go.
The ballad ended and a fast number began. Still holding her hand, Jake continued dancing to the faster beat. His muscled body moved with a fit male athlete’s grace. Her breasts tingled and with every brush of their bodies—hip against hip, shoulder grazing shoulder—she wanted more of him.
She followed his lead, watching him. Jake’s body was long and lean and strong, sexy in his dark suit. She wondered if they would make love when they flew home, or if they would end 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.”