Page 44 of Captured By the Billionaire Cowboy
Him.
Was it possible, after all these years, with the heartbreak still looming like a horse coming from behind? How would it even work when their lives were continents apart? She couldn’t do a casual relationship, not here, not now and certainly not with Rowan. He meant too much to her, in too many ways, for too many years. He was undeniably attracted to her, but his ultimate goal remained unknown. Was he looking for a fling, something fun or something more? If he could open up, then just maybe…
“Are you okay?”
“Sixty-eight.”
Ciara smiled at the soft chuckle behind the door. Then the sound of clothing rustling, and her smile vanished.
A zipper unzipped.
She sat up straighter, splashing water out of the tub. “What are you doing?” she called, trying for casual, achieving breathless instead.
“I’m changing out of my wet clothing. I hope you don’t mind. You don’t seem like you’re emerging any time soon.”
She did mind. Why was he undressing out there when there was plenty of room in here?
“That’s fine!” she shrieked before she succumbed to her urges and ordered him in. Suddenly the water was entirely too warm, the air too heated. She gripped the sides of the bathtub, braced to get up. She would run the shower for a few minutes, this time on acoldsetting.
She rose slowly, carefully testing the ankle. Thankfully, she was able to put weight on it without too much pain, giving credence to her diagnosis of a sprain. She stood to her full height and bent down to release the drain.
More rustling came from the other room, sending blood to her heart and other areas. She stepped back, on top of something small, round andslippery. Her foot slipped forward,then the other followed, as she flailed her arms. She yelped as she splashed into the tub, landing firmly on her backside in a miniature tidal wave. A small white bar of soap monogrammed with the letters RB popped into the water next to her.
Ciara rubbed her sore backside, the only victim of the fall. She closed her eyes, catching her breath, when a noise started her. Suddenly, something burst into the bathroom. No, not something. Someone.
Rowan.
Neither moved. Neither spoke and neitherbreathed. They stared at each other, her exposed and submerged, and the man who appeared like an avenging warrior, naked from the waist up, with only a pair of jeans slung low on his hips. His power blazed as he towered above her, heat burning as he took in every inch. Nothing but crystal-clear water shielded her from his penetrating gaze. There was nowhere to hide, no way to shield herself.She was entirely exposed.
Then he was moving closer.
She should’ve backed up, should’ve demanded he leave. But her lungs seized as he blasted into her personal space, as he bent down right above her. The difference in their sizes had never been so apparent.
Storms raged in his eyes. “Are you all right? Tell me where it hurts. Should I call for a doctor?” Even as he rattled off questions, he studied her, conducting his own intimate examination. Sensation raced through her.
She was naked.
Rowan was examining her.
He reached out!
Her breath splintered as he touched her arm, as suddenly she was able to move. “What are you doing?” she gasped, yet instead of the strong demand she’d planned, her voice paintedthe invitation she longed to give. Forget invitation. She wanted to pull him down into the water with her.
“I heard you fall.” Distress etched every word. “When I came in, your eyes were closed. I thought you were unconscious.”
So he hadn’t come to explore.
And she wasn’t really, really, really disappointed.
Through the fog of desire, traitorous thoughts loomed.I will not accost Rowan, I will not accost Rowan, I will not accost Rowan.“I’m fine. The fall didn’t hurt me.”
“But you did slip?” Eyes blazing, he studied her once more. His fingers twitched, as if he longed for a more hands-on examination.
Yes, please.“Just on my backside,” she whispered the admission. “I closed my eyes for a moment, but I’m fine, truly.”
Finally, he relaxed. At this point he should’ve fled, excused himself with a hasty apology. Or she should’ve sent him away, mentioning the very obvious fact she was not dressed for company. Instead, they both remained frozen.
He still leaned over her. She fought the urge to pull him closer, to invite him to touch what he’d only seen. The power in him was obvious, the straining control. It would take so very little to snap it.
