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.
Gritting his teeth, he stood quietly, holding her, but not crushing her against him. Shiloh had to know she was free to step out of his embrace anytime she wanted. And God knew, he wanted to stay in her arms. He pushed away the fantasy he had every night when he lay down in his bed, of her being in his arms, being there at his side, of them loving each other.
Sternly, Roan told himself his role right now was to make Shiloh feel protected. The more he slid his hand across her tangled hair, the more she responded by thrusting herself fully into his arms. Roan felt no more quivering. Aware of her breasts pressed against his chest, he felt their warmth, their curved softness. His fingers itched to cup them, taste them, have Shiloh come apart in his arms.
Cursing silently, Roan willed himself to do or say nothing. Just the simple act of slowly smoothing her hair with his hand seemed to tame this wild filly of his. And that’s how Roan saw her: a wild, willful, independent filly, full of life, curiosity, and spontaneity. And he wanted to capture that, share that fiery spirit of hers. A slight smile cut across his mouth as he felt Shiloh languish in the gathering silence of the kitchen as he held her. No question, Shiloh WAS willful. But he liked that about her. In some ways, she was fearless. In other ways, fear controlled her life.
Roan knew as he felt her curves against his body that he could set Shiloh free from the fear. He felt his heart swell with a fierceness because he knew she would flourish beneath his hands, his experience and wisdom. But so would he because Shiloh would teach him about being more spontaneous, more in the moment. They were a good match for each other, no question. There was a natural balance they shared and, so far, Roan could see they worked off each other’s strengths, not their weaknesses. And he knew from his parents’ marriage, which had lasted so long, that they did the same thing.