Wind River Wrangler (Wind River Valley #1)(61)

“So you stood or sat there listening to it?” Roan was getting a firsthand taste of how she was being stalked. The bastard knew exactly what he was doing.

“Y-yes. I’m ashamed of myself, Roan. I should have gone to the door. If I knew what his face looked like, I could have helped the police. But I was too damned scared. And I gig myself now that I didn’t force myself to look out that peephole and prove there was a man out there trying to get into my apartment.”

“Besides that sanding sound, were there any other indicators someone was out there?” he asked gently, seeing the fear drench her green eyes.

“Yes.” Shiloh shivered and looked away, her voice strained. “He slowly started turning the doorknob. First one way, and then the other. It—it was horrible, Roan. I was so afraid he had a key to my apartment. That—that he’d open it up and come in after me.”

To hell with it.

Roan set his cup aside and reached out, his large hand scooping up her smaller one. He saw small beads of perspiration on her upper lip, saw the scattered, wild look of a hunted animal that was trapped in her gaze. “You’re here, with me,” he growled. His fingers curved firmly around her damp ones. “No one is going to hurt you while you’re here with me, Shiloh.” Roan saw some of the fear dissolve, her mouth, tight and compressed, relaxing a bit. He was deeply touched that he had that kind of positive impact on her. But he’d known that from the day he’d met her at the airport. There was something magical that drew them to each other. They were good for each other too. Roan wished for the hundredth time that Shiloh understood their connection was solid.

“My head knows that,” she whispered, giving him a brief look, feeling shame. “But my emotions are shredded by six months of this terror, Roan.”

He gently turned her hand around between his, holding her troubled gaze. “If this EVER happens again while you’re here?”

“Yes?”

“Call me. I’ll come from wherever I’m working and get to you as soon as I can.”

“What will that accomplish?”

“I’m trained to see the enemy, Shiloh. And I’m good at looking at a lot of people and picking out a predator.” He watched her gnaw on her lower lip, feeling the fine tension in her hand and arm. “You don’t know what this guy looks like. Maybe his body language or the way he’s looking at you would give him away to me.”

“God, Roan . . . how did he find me out here?”

“You’re assuming he did.”

“The only time I get this horrible feeling is with this stalker.”

Nodding, he asked, “Did you tell anyone where you were going?”

“No, only my editor knew. And she has no reason to tell anyone. She wants me to hand my next book in on time.”

“Okay,” Roan murmured, absorbing the soft touch of her fingers between his hands. “You’re a famous author. You must have a blog? A Facebook page?”

“I do, but my webmistress, Chloe, handles that stuff.”

“Did she know you were out here?” He saw Shiloh give him a sudden, stricken look.

“Oh, God,” she muttered, touching her brow. “I’ve been sending Chloe photos and text with them. But I didn’t tell her NOT to post them! What was I thinking?” and she scrunched her eyes closed, her hand pressed to her face, completely embarrassed.

“You were distracted,” Roan soothed. “It’s all right. You can get ahold of her by e-mail tonight and tell her to stop posting them, but just to hold them until you get home.” Roan didn’t want Shiloh to go home. No way. But he knew she would.

“Y-yes, that’s a good idea.” She stared anxiously at him. “Do you think my stalker read those entries on my FB page?”

Shrugging, Roan said, “I don’t know. But the reaction you had this morning says that he might be out here starting to stalk you again. What you need to do is check with Chloe to see if she did put that info up on your FB page to verify it.”

“Yes, I’ll do that, but I’m SURE Chloe put them up.”

Roan hated to scare her, but he wasn’t going to lie to Shiloh. He squeezed her hand gently between his, getting her attention. “Look, I’m here. We can tell Maud and Steve about this. They’ll inform all the employees to be on the lookout for a man who might be asking a lot of questions, mentioning your name or asking where you’re at. This can all be handled tomorrow morning, Shiloh. Unlike New York City cops who wouldn’t believe you, we will.” His voice dropped to a growl. “And we’ll find the bastard. Stalkers usually hide in groups and they try not to stand out and be noticed” He could feel a fine tremor go through Shiloh.

Releasing her hand, Roan stood up and walked around to where she sat. He pulled the chair out and then pulled her into his arms, embracing her. Shiloh’s arms went around his waist, her face pressed into his chest, as if to hide. He bit back a groan as she fully leaned against him, as if seeking sanctuary. Her red hair was loose and grazed his chin and jaw. Inhaling her special scent, Roan filled his lungs with it, feeling himself responding. It was the last thing Shiloh needed. She came into his arms because she trusted him. Not because she wanted sex with him. Getting a steel grip on himself, Roan willed away his reaction. He lifted his hand, lightly threading his fingers through that red, silky mass of her hair. Shiloh quivered and he wasn’t sure if it was from the fear she felt or if the stroking motions were translating into something more heated between them.