Wind River Wrangler (Wind River Valley #1)(54)
“I thought you might have some dancing genes in you.”
“How could you know that?” Shiloh asked, amazed at his perception.
“Just watching you,” Roan murmured. “You do everything with gracefulness whether it’s pulling a plate out of the cupboard or laying Trex on my cabin porch. I thought you might have taken ballet lessons when you were younger.”
Heat flashed up her neck and into her face. “I did.” Staring at Roan, she whispered, “Do you read minds, too? Is this some special gift you created because you were in black ops?” She saw him grin and ruefully shake his head. It wasn’t lost on Shiloh that Roan missed nothing. The man was more than just a casual observer of the human condition. He watched her and intuitively knew her without any background information about her younger life. That made her breathless and stunned, but not afraid of him. There was a quiet steadiness to Roan, a man of honor. A man of his word. And she felt so incredibly safe and protected when she was around him.
“I don’t know where it came from,” Roan admitted. “The male line of our family were all born with a caul over them. I was too.”
“Ohhhh,” Shiloh said, eyes widening. “If you’re born with a caul over you at birth, it means you’re a seer. A visionary. Very psychic.”
Holding up his hands, Roan chuckled. “Darlin’, don’t look at me like I’m some kind of fortune-teller because I’m not.”
“But,” Shiloh said excitedly, setting her cup aside, “you see.”
“I think a better word would be ‘perceive,’ Shiloh. I’m good at assessing people. It’s easy for me to read a face, a voice, and interpret a person’s body language. It did come in damn handy when my team and I were in areas that were always dangerous and bad things could happen in a heartbeat. I’d like to think my gut hunches, my ability to observe, saved us more than a few times out on patrols.”
“Did your team know you have this skill?”
“I didn’t tell them I was born with a caul,” Roan told her drily. “It wouldn’t have gone over well with the guys. It’s tough for military people to believe or trust something like I had. But over time, I proved my hunches so often they just accepted it and, later, were all very glad I had that skill in place.”
“They just didn’t call it what it was: You’re psychic.”
“No,” Roan said wryly, “they’d have called it ‘woo-woo.’”
She laughed. And so did he. “And so,” she went on, her mind racing with connections, “I’ll bet you’re really good with wild horses that need to be tamed?”
“I’ve gentled a few,” Roan admitted. “You have to work with animals from your heart, not your hand. I don’t think it takes any special psychic abilities, just love.”
“That’s a wonderful way to look at training animals.” Shiloh swore she felt his hand on her, stroking her, gentling her. The sensation was so physical that she felt dampness between her thighs. The man’s voice was a low, vibrating growl. Roan’s eyes were almost soft with feelings as he talked about the horses. Would he ever look at her like that, with that male tenderness? If she hadn’t been here to see it, she would have never said that Roan Taggart possessed an ounce of tenderness. But now, she knew he did. Her longing to have Roan open up to her fully, to trust her, made her feel deep ache in her heart.
Roan rose and said, “I need to finish up the kitchen and then I’m hitting the sack. Dawn comes early tomorrow.”
Lamenting their time was up, Shiloh slowly rose and brushed out the wrinkles in her white capri pants. “I’ll take the cups over,” she volunteered. “I’ll help you clean up the kitchen.”
Nodding, Roan walked with his long, easy gait to the kitchen while Shiloh cleaned up in the living room. Her heart was beating with renewed urgency. Right now, all she wanted to do was kiss this man and have him unveil his heart to her even more. There was something in Roan’s eyes, deep, almost hidden, that told her he longed to be that man for her.
Fear from the past, though, drenched Shiloh as she placed the cups in the dishwasher. If she kissed Roan, where would it lead? To the bedroom? To wild, hungry love? And then what? The dawn of a new day always brought back reality, not romanticism. She would be leaving to go back to New York City. Roan would never leave Wyoming. Or the beautiful cabin he was building near Pine Hills.
Feeling pulled one way and then another, Shiloh let the urge to kiss Roan, to take him by the hand and lead him into her bedroom, reluctantly dissolve. Her last relationship had taught her she’d better have one eye fixed on reality. Unfortunately, she was exactly like her idealistic mother: a romantic at heart. An idealist, not a realist. And like her mother, Shiloh wanted to give her heart to the right man. And up until meeting Roan, she knew she hadn’t met him yet.
Licking her lower lip, she turned and whispered, “Good night, Roan,” and quickly left the kitchen. Shiloh knew if she stayed, she’d do something she’d be very sorry for come dawn tomorrow.
Chapter Thirteen
The morning was cold but refreshing. Shiloh was eager to take a ride with Roan out to the buffalo area of the ranch. Maud kept a herd of twenty cows, calves, and one bull mostly for the tourists who were dying to see what one looked like.