Much Ado About You

Roane glanced at me. “It’s cool in there for him.”

I could only nod.

My heart was thundering in my chest, and my already sweat-slicked body was burning now from the inside.

Something voracious and sexual flashed in Roane’s eyes, and suddenly he was running up the stairs and I was hurrying to catch up with him. It was only then I realized we were both still wearing our dirty Wellington boots.

Not that we cared. It was the last thing on our minds.

He led me down a dark, narrow corridor and into what I surmised was the master bedroom at the front of the house. It was surprisingly light compared to the rest of the house. There was no heavy floral wallpaper in here. It was all pale gray walls, his large bed covered with dark gray linen.

The two small windows let light pour into the room.

It was stuffy and hot, and made me want to rip my clothes off even more than I already did.

Roane stopped by the side of the bed, turning to me, pulling me close until the length of our bodies pressed together. His hands coasted leisurely up and down my back, while his beautiful eyes searched my face.

“You sure this is what you want?” he asked, but before I could answer, his caresses stopped and his voice became gruff when he confessed, “Because this isn’t just sex for me, Evie. I want us to take a chance on each other, for real. And if you can’t do that, you need to walk away now.” His hands suddenly pushed deeper into my back, holding me tighter, closer, the gesture at odds with his words.

I trembled in his arms, despite the heat, a shiver tickling down my spine. I knew Roane. I knew that it would never just be sex for him. He wasn’t that guy. And he didn’t look at me like a guy who just wanted one thing.

He looked at me like a guy who wanted everything.

It was seductive, compelling, and despite all my concerns about how a relationship might derail me from working out my future plans, I couldn’t deny myself him anymore. Hadn’t I told myself all those months ago that if I realized love was something I wanted in my life, then I had to actively start pursuing it? Well, Roane Robson was one of a kind, and I’d be an absolute fool to walk away from the chance to see if what was between us could be something real.

Something epic.

In answer, I lifted my arms into the air, inviting him to remove my tank top.

Relief sparked in his eyes, hunger following quickly on its heels. My chest heaved with my labored, excited breaths as Roane’s fingers curled into the fabric. He fisted it and then slowly tugged the tank top up and over my head.

He dropped it to the floor, and a feeling of self-consciousness came over me as he dragged his gaze down, drinking in the sight of me in my bra. I might have legs for days and an impressively large chest, but I also had a rounded stomach that turned into belly rolls when I sat.

Maybe I tensed or Roane read my expression because he suddenly cupped my face in his large hands. His palms were hot and rough against my skin. “You’re perfect, Evie.”

“I’m not perfect.” I shook my head with a wry smile as I lifted a hand to tickle my fingertips across one of his pecs. Not like you. His eyes fluttered at my touch, a shudder moving through him that made me feel extremely powerful. Okay, maybe I wasn’t perfect, but Roane seemed to like all that I was anyway.

“You are to me,” he said, supporting my suspicions. He swept his thumbs over my cheeks, the touch tender, but as he moved his hands down my neck, there was a sexy possessiveness to his exploration.

Roane’s eyes followed his fingertips as he trailed them with frustrating slowness across my collarbone and down toward the rise of my breasts. His gaze filled with intense want as he stared at them.

“I can almost taste them, feel your nipples on my tongue,” he whispered.

My body jerked at his surprising words. I hadn’t imagined Roane to be much of a talker during sex. It was arousing, and goose bumps prickled in the wake of his touch as his fingertips lightly caressed the upper curves. My nipples peaked against my bra in anticipation for his mouth. I made a guttural sound in the back of my throat, bringing Roane’s gaze back to mine. Whatever he saw there made him cup my face in his hands, and he lowered his head toward mine.

I sucked in a breath as I clasped his biceps, his skin damp from the heat, his muscles hard beneath my fingertips.

Roane was going to kiss me.