Wind River Wrangler (Wind River Valley #1)(63)

Roan’s mouth thinned, his dark brows drawing downward. His heart contracted with worry for Shiloh. Whether he liked it or not, he knew he was falling for her. He didn’t want to go as far as admitting it was love. She was gun-shy and he knew she couldn’t know how he really felt toward her. And yet, when she needed safety, she ran to him. And he swore he saw arousal deep in her eyes. So it wasn’t all about protection between them either.

There really was something beautiful, something hopeful, growing between them, regardless of their situation. But would Shiloh ever step out of the fear that held her, to walk into his arms?





Chapter Fifteen


Roan had just gotten his shower, the towel wrapped low around his waist, and padded barefoot down to his bedroom when there was a soft knock on his door. Brows dipping, he turned, wiping water that was still dripping off his short hair. He’d remained outside a good two hours after night had fallen, allowing the crickets, frogs, and lowing of nearby cattle to help him ratchet down from his gnawing state of needing Shiloh.

He walked to the door in his bare feet and opened it. Shiloh stood uncertainly, dressed in a soft ivory sleeveless pajama top and a pair of boxer shorts of the same fabric and color. His heart bounded once to underscore how beautiful, how innocent she looked standing there, hands clasped nervously in front of her. It was the shyness, the yearning and anxiety in her green eyes that made him groan internally.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice low and rough-sounding.

“I-I just had a nightmare.” Shiloh took a breath. And then she shook her head. “No . . . that’s not the whole story. . . .” she said, lifting her head, meeting his narrowing eyes. It felt like he was looking inside her. He was intensely male, the dark hair sprinkled across his broad chest, the flexing of his muscles as he stood in the doorway wrapped in nothing more than the towel hanging off his narrow hips. His flesh glistened with water. A sense of protectiveness radiated off him toward her, infusing her, steadying the fear running rampant through her, turning it into something else. Longing for Roan.

Shiloh saw him hesitate, as if torn, the expression reaching his eyes. Wrapping her arms around herself, Shiloh held Roan’s darkening gray gaze. His mouth thinned. She felt his unsureness about her standing at his bedroom door. “I’m not going to blame my nightmare as the reason I’m standing here,” she said quietly. “For the longest time, I’ve wanted to . . . well . . . be intimate with you. It has nothing to do with my nightmare.”

She saw surprise flare in his eyes. A muscle leaped in his jaw. It didn’t take any guesswork as to the bulge of a growing erection she saw beneath the white towel. “This could all be one-way, Roan. You need to tell me now because if it is, I promise I’ll never do this again.” Shiloh gulped, feeling her heart beating like a rabbit in her chest. There was a thaw in his eyes, a lessening of tension around his mouth. She could smell the sage soap, and hungrily inhaled the scent into her lungs.

“We need to talk, then” was all he said, moving aside to allow her into his bedroom.

Her heart squeezed with need of him. Shiloh stepped into his room, wildly aware Roan was so close, almost naked, excruciatingly masculine, and calling to her in every way. She hesitated mid-room, turned, and looked toward him. Roan closed the door, facing her. Shiloh wasn’t sure what she saw in his expression.

“Sit over there?” He pointed to the couch in one corner of the room.

Nodding, Shiloh sat down. She saw him coming her way, his lean, masculine grace taking her breath away. She took one end of the couch, curling her legs up beneath her. Roan took the other end, a few feet in between them.

“Are you mostly here because of the nightmare, Shiloh?”

She held his gaze. “No. I mean”—she gave him a weak shrug—“it woke me up, but I’ve had them before and I never came across the hall to see you.” She saw him absorb her words, felt him wrestling with something known only to him.

“Why tonight?”

“You held me earlier. It felt so good, Roan. So right, but I wasn’t sure you felt the same way.”

“Shiloh, you’ve told me you’re afraid of commitment. I’m not built the same way. Do I want you? Hell yes. But I’m not the kind of man who wants one night in the sack. Sex is great, Shiloh, and if that’s all you want, then I’m not the one you’re looking for. I’d be lying to you and myself if I didn’t admit that I wanted you. And I think sex between us would be incredible. But for the right reasons.”

She nodded, wrapping her arms around herself, studying him in the low light provided by a stained glass lamp on top of the dresser. “You play for keeps.”

“I don’t mess with the heart, Shiloh. It’s too risky a proposition. My woman has to want a relationship with me in and out of bed. I like having that kind of connection with her.”

“I guess I’ve always known that about you, Roan.”

“It’s a curse,” he said, giving her a rueful glance. “If I’m going to risk my heart, I want to know it’s for all the right reasons. I’m entering into something with a woman who is as sincere as I am. You’ve admitted to having commitment issues.”

She held his gray gaze, feeling how much Roan wanted her. She felt as if she would die if she couldn’t have this man tonight, to feel his arms around her, loving her, taking her, making her his. “That’s why I came to your door tonight, Roan.”