Wind River Wrangler (Wind River Valley #1)(46)
The man went straight to the heart of everything! No messing around. No diplomacy. Just straight to her heart. Swallowing hard, Shiloh held his gaze. “Yes.” Her heart squeezed in pain, as if she had already lost Roan before she ever got to know him. To be loved by this man. Grief spread through her chest and she pulled one hand free of his, pressing it against her heart. Her voice held unshed tears in it. “You don’t deserve that, Roan. You’re a good, hardworking man. You’re honest. I’ve never met anyone like you before. I-I don’t want to hurt you because of myself.” Shiloh shut her eyes, feeling the heat of tears fill them. She didn’t want to cry in front of Roan. He would probably think her weak.
She felt Roan gently pry her hand away from her chest and she opened her eyes. He was watching her with those dark gray eyes of his, and she felt an invisible embrace from him. He seemed stoic and unmoved by her emotional words. His mouth was relaxed. There was no tension in his face. Just calm. Like a starving thief, she absorbed the warmth of his hands around hers. He had such strength, yet his touch was gentle. Shiloh somehow knew he’d be a tender lover if that was what she needed. Roan read people just as well as she did. And he knew that she was presently emotionally fragile. She trusted him with her life, no question.
“Then,” he said in a deep tone, “let’s just take it a day at a time?”
Compressing her lips, Shiloh forced the tears away and opened her eyes. Roan looked like an unruffled Buddha, as if her admission wasn’t really that terrible. And if it was, he’d weighed and evaluated her fear and was not scared of it or of her fleeing from him. She wondered if anything ever frightened Roan. Just looking at his hard, elemental features, she knew he’d suffered greatly. And yet, he sat quietly, holding her hands, fully accepting her just as she was. Unafraid. Wanting her. Wanting to share something of value to both of them with each other. “Okay,” she said in a strained voice, “one day at a time . . .”
Chapter Eleven
Roan rummaged around in the kitchen. Shiloh was taking a shower while he prepared dinner. She’d grown very quiet on the trip back to the employee house from his cabin. There was a sense she desired him coupled with a deeply ingrained fear. He panfried some fresh trout that Maud had placed in his fridge earlier. Roan tried to sense his way through Shiloh’s present state. Maybe he’d said too much too soon to her? Maybe he shouldn’t have kissed her at all? His mouth still burned hotly in memory of her soft, opening lips blossoming sweetly beneath his mouth. He could still taste her on his lips. Never mind he’d gotten an instant erection over her fearless, bold kiss with him. The woman was a complete turn-on. His body reacted long before his mind became engaged in the process.
He’d taken his shower first at Shiloh’s insistence. Maybe she needed some alone time in her bedroom to collect herself from that world-tilting kiss they’d shared. He’d never look at the porch again without remembering that torrid, slow, deep kiss with Shiloh. Damn, but the woman was certifiably a turn-on. Roan wasn’t sure she was fully aware of her impact on him. Her head was in the clouds, literally, because she was a writer. And she seemed somewhat detached from the effect her face, body, and the way those sweet hips of hers moved had on men. From his perspective, she really was the total package. Even more, Roan liked her fearlessness. She’d made the move to kiss him first. She’d wanted him as much as he wanted her. That had surprised him, but it didn’t take a nanosecond to celebrate the discovery and then kiss her senseless in return.
Roan heard the bathroom door open and Shiloh pad down the hall to her bedroom. He forced himself to focus on cooking. He was the one who told her they’d take it slow. His body was more than ready and so was he. But right now, their kiss had brought up a huge red-flag warning. Giving Shiloh credit for being honest with him about her pattern in relationships, Roan knew she cared enough for him to admit it. And he’d seen the shame in her eyes when she’d divulged the truth.
Roan ruthlessly looked at himself, his part in all of this. He needed alone time to sift through the deeper meaning and his reaction toward Shiloh.
The door to her bedroom opened and he cast a glance over his shoulder as he placed the fried trout onto a platter. She came into the kitchen, and he saw that she’d dried her hair and it was captured into a loose knot on top of her head. The clean pale-green tee made his lower body clench. And even though she wore a pair of white capris, her slender legs made him want to run his hand down them. In the capris Shiloh looked like a young girl with bare feet. Smiling to himself, Roan focused on the food. One moment, a woman. The next, a young girl. He liked discovering Shiloh’s quicksilver facets.
“How can I help?” she asked.
“Set the table?” Roan glanced over to see the dark green of her eyes, understanding she was still processing what had happened between them too. “Maud left us some fresh trout in the fridge. Thought we’d have that, some peas, and a salad?”
“Sounds great. I’m starved.”
So was he. For her. Roan didn’t say anything. He wanted to kiss her again. Take her all the way. Placing his considerable patience online, he told himself their relationship, or whatever he wanted to call it, was complicated. Shiloh was complex.
The pleasant clink of plates and flatware made Roan realize just how lonely he’d become before Shiloh had stepped unexpectedly into his life. She moved quietly, saying nothing, but he could feel her warm, feminine presence just the same. This made Roan realize what he was missing in life: a relationship.