Roan could hear the grief and longing in Shiloh’s quiet voice as she reminisced about her father. “I need to go to the library in Jackson Hole and pick up a copy of one of his books.” Because by knowing her father, he would know Shiloh better. Roan decided to stop denying to himself why he wanted to do it. Shiloh interested him as no other woman ever had. He saw grief deep in her eyes and couldn’t go there with her. His father, Al, was alive, healthy and living on his Montana ranch. He wished for Shiloh’s sake that her father hadn’t died in his prime. She missed him terribly.
“Oh, if you want, I have all of Dad’s books on my iPad. I can lend it to you and you can read the e-book version.”
Nodding, Roan said, “I’d like that. Thanks.”
“So,” Shiloh murmured, “you asked me what I thought of Army Special Forces soldiers?”
Roan more or less internally steeled himself. “Yes. Fire away.” He knew she would.
Laughing a little, Shiloh said, “I can only surmise from what my dad told me. He said of all the black ops groups, the most well-rounded one was U.S. Army Special Forces. That only sergeants with six or seven years could try for an A-team. The guys he worked with not only knew the language of the area they were in, but they had certain skill sets, like weapons, combat medicine, mechanics, communication, and things like that. They were well read and they respected and knew the customs of the people they were living among. They were sharp, intelligent men, who missed little and were well aware of the political situation of that country. He said what impressed him the most was the amount of intel that you guys could wring out of the local populace.”
“That was because we earned their trust.”
“Right,” Shiloh agreed, nodding. Her lips curved. “So, I know you’re a very astute person, Roan. You watch a lot and say little. You’re a good observer of the human condition. I’ve seen how you’ve worked with me today. You were patient, easygoing, explained things, and never once lost your temper or became impatient.”
“People don’t learn when you’re yelling at them or cutting into the confidence they’re trying to build,” he said. Roan wasn’t sure if he felt comfortable with all of Shiloh’s accurate assessment of him. He rarely allowed anyone inside himself, to really know who he was, warts and all. But Shiloh’s keen insights were unsettling. At the same time, Roan didn’t feel like she’d use that knowledge against him. He prided himself on knowing human potential. She wasn’t a cream puff or a pushover. She was like her father in that she respected others, never judged them, but was interested in what made them tick the way they did.
“You’re a good teacher, Roan. You made today so much fun for me.” Shiloh searched his gray eyes, sensing a shift between them. She felt an overpowering need to kiss this man. Never had she wanted anything more. And she saw desire in his eyes—for her. It was there. In plain sight.
Tension swirled around them and Shiloh’s throat grew dry, an ache in her heart for enigmatic Roan. Her pulse sped up as she saw a slight narrowing of his gray eyes as he studied her in the throbbing, heated silence between them. Without thinking, Shiloh fractionally leaned toward him, tipping her chin upward. Her eyes met his. A lush heat flowed down through her, settling hotly in her lower body. Her fingers itched to touch Roan’s hard jaw, to feel the stubble that darkened his face rasping beneath her fingertips.
And then, he lifted his hand, sliding his roughened fingers across her slender jaw, eliciting wild, sparking heat through her skin, making her breath hitch. Shiloh felt her heart swell with a wealth of unexpected emotions and needs for Roan. It surprised her. And she allowed herself to be angled toward his descending mouth, his eyes narrowed like a hunter upon hers as he drew her closer. Shiloh could feel the moistness of Roan’s breath as he lowered his head toward hers. Automatically, her lips parted. His fingers tightened just a bit against her jaw, holding her in place. Right where he wanted her. Lashes sweeping downward, Shiloh strained forward, lifting her mouth toward his. She could smell the sweat, the dust of the day and his unique male fragrance. It made her thighs clench with desperate need of Roan.
His mouth barely brushed hers. Butterfly light, as if gently introducing himself to her. A keening sensation shot hotly through her as she felt his mouth skim hers, latent power held in check, a promise of things to come.