Rubbing her face, Shiloh began to feel less tense. Just talking to Roan, listening to his low, husky voice, was a balm to her frayed nervous system. “Would you mind if I accompanied you tomorrow? Maud said I could. I don’t want to stay here in this house alone. At least . . . not yet . . .”
Shrugging, Roan said, “Sure, no problem.” He poured the heated mixture into the two cups, added marshmallows, and brought them over to the table. He slid one cup toward her awaiting hand. He sat down at her left elbow. His legs were so long that he accidentally brushed her left knee. Moving the chair back a little because he saw the reaction in her face, Roan knew that his hoping she’d be a little drawn to him was wishful thinking. And he purposely kept his gaze above her breasts because those nipples were standing strong, begging to be touched, suckled. Shiloh had given him no hint that what he felt toward her was about to be reciprocated. “Drink up,” he told her.
“Mmmm, this is good,” Shiloh murmured, giving him a warm look of thanks. “You really are handy in the kitchen.” She saw Roan’s eyes change, a glint in them. She wasn’t sure what it meant, but the feeling radiating from him was like a velvet embrace around her shoulders. What would it be like to slide her fingers down that hard-muscled forearm, sun darkened, dusted with dark hair? Something cautioned Shiloh not to try to find out. There was intense sexuality oozing out of his pores. She could practically feel it. And worst of all, her nipples were puckered. Groaning inwardly, Shiloh didn’t want to try to move the material because it would only draw his attention to them. Geez Louise. What was wrong with her body? It suddenly had a mind of its own! At least around Roan, it did.
There was nothing she could do. If she tried to put her arms across her chest to hide them, then she couldn’t drink the hot chocolate. Her breasts tightened with just the thought of Roan’s callused fingers grazing her nipples. What must it feel like? Her mind had gone off the deep end for sure. Shiloh never looked at men in sexual terms. And that’s all she could see in Roan when he was near her. Shiloh was convinced the stress of the last six months had finally caught up with her and she was having some kind of lusting meltdown.
“I’m going to be riding out to the Pine Grove area tomorrow,” he told her. Roan could see the sudden realization and awareness in her face about her nipples pressing proudly against the material she wore. A pink flush had crept up her throat and into her face. The sudden skittering of her eyes said it all. She had a momentary panicked look in them and then quickly looked away from him.
Roan made sure he didn’t look down at her breasts, having no wish to make Shiloh any more stressed or uncomfortable than she already was. He laughed at himself because in the past, in Special Forces, he could have any woman he wanted when stateside. Didn’t take much to get one, either. They always hung around well-known Team clubs off base. For some, it was a notch in their gun belt when they bedded down a vaunted sergeant out of the A-teams.
“I don’t know how to ride a horse,” Shiloh confessed, giving Roan a concerned look.
“No worries. We’ll find you a nice, quiet mount and I’ll walk you through everything.” He saw instant relief on her face. Roan decided Shiloh was incapable of hiding her feelings. “How often do you get these nightmares?”
Squirming, Shiloh admitted haltingly, “A couple of times a week. Sometimes more, if I get faxes from him.”
Nodding, Roan saw the terror banked deeply in her green eyes, wishing he could remove it. “What are the nightmares about?”
Rubbing her brow, Shiloh felt fear snaking through her. “Just . . . a shadowy man’s form moving from one building to another, coming after me.”
“Do you see a face?” No wonder she screamed and dropped the mug when she saw him in the shadows of the living room. Damn. Roan felt bad now.
Shaking her head, she muttered, “No, but I wish I did. I wish I knew who this bastard was. He’s taken my life away from me, Roan. I can’t explain it, but I’m so fearful now.” Giving him a misery-laden look she admitted, “Like right now? I happened to catch your shadowy figure in the living room and it just punched every fear button I own. I’m really sorry. It wasn’t you. It’s my damned imagination, I guess.”
“I’m glad you can separate me out from your stalker,” he teased, trying to make her feel better. Roan would have liked to put his fist through the man’s face. “Look,” he said, “this guy is gutless. He can’t face you.”
“I would never associate you with a stalker, Roan,” she said, giving him a frown. “I’d give ANYTHING to know who he is. No one in law enforcement will believe me. They think I’m making this up to get newspaper and Net publicity.” She snorted. “That is so crass! I would NEVER do anything like that! Any publicity I’ve ever received, I’ve earned the hard way by writing a darned good book.”