But he’d decided on his long hike in the woods today that he’d dig deep. He’d try to salvage the friendship, because Katie was worth it. He’d been resolved on the matter until he’d seen Katie step out of Fordham’s car. The brown rinse she’d put in her hair had nearly vanished. Sunlight turned her long mane into a living crown and cloak of incandescent, shifting golden waves and curls.
If there was such a thing as a wild angel, its halo and wings might resemble Katie’s hair and sunlight combined.
When it dawned on him that she’d been out with Miles Fordham, anger had transformed his beneficent intentions to make things right with Katie. What was she trying to prove, anyway? Suggesting to him last night that they sleep together and then traipsing off with that tycoon-in-the-woods Fordham, whose smiles looked like they’d been airbrushed by a photographer?
His anger had turned to a dull roar as he’d watched Katie march toward him.
Had she let that asshole touch her?
The incendiary thought struck Rill again as he sat on the couch holding Katie while she slept. He told himself it was a natural reaction to be annoyed at the idea of Katie going out with Fordham. If Everett had stayed long enough in Vulture’s Canyon—if Rill hadn’t been so foul to him and allowed him to stay on—Everett would have disliked Miles Fordham as well.
Everett hated almost all of Katie’s boyfriends. At the very least, he was highly unimpressed. None of them was good enough for Katie.
His brow crinkled as he tried to recall if Everett truly had disapproved of Katie’s boyfriends or if it’d been Rill doing the disliking....
Katie rustled in her sleep. Her hand dropped to his lap. Rill jumped like she’d prodded him with a red-hot poker. Katie lifted her head from his chest and mumbled something unintelligible.
“Jaysus,” he hissed under his breath as he braced Katie’s shoulders with his hands and carefully eased his body around her. Her eyelids had fluttered open when he’d jumped, but they’d quickly drooped once again.
She was in some territory between sleep and consciousness when he carried her up the stairs. He gritted his teeth when she put her arms around his neck and pressed her supple, sleep-softened body against his chest. His heartbeat thundered in his ears and throbbed in his cock.
He’d broken out in a sweat by the time he laid Katie on her made bed, and it wasn’t because the room was hot. She’d opened a window before she left with Fordham. The air in the dormer bedroom felt cool against his heated skin. Her eyes were open, watching him as he straightened and looked down at her, but the sweet, slightly dazed expression on her face made him think she was still existing in the muzzy, warm embrace of sleep. She reached and caught his hand with her own.
“Come to bed, Rill,” she whispered throatily.
He swallowed, but the knot in his throat remained.
“I was going to tell you earlier that it’d been a mistake. We can still go back, Katie,” he croaked.
“I don’t want to go back,” she said simply.
“I do.”
But despite his words, he didn’t move.
She just stared up at him, her eyes keeping him pinned to the spot even though his conscience willed him to move. It surprised him a little to see his hand cradling her jaw. His skin looked dark in contrast to her pale gold hue; his fingers seemed large and blunt—poor instruments for exploring the delicate angles and exquisite softness of Katie’s jaw and cheek.
He pressed his thumb into her lower lip, testing its plumpness. He met her gaze and saw her heat.
The next thing he knew, he was unbuttoning her blouse, the frilly little flounces that decorated the placket tickling at his fingers. She reached beneath his opened flannel shirt as he leaned over her, her eager caresses making him lose his concentration.
“Where’s the scarf?” he asked bluntly, standing and glancing around her room.
“Rill, no,” she murmured as she came up on her elbows. Her blouse gaped open, giving him a glimpse of curving flesh tightly encased in a shimmering champagne-colored bra. He tore his gaze off the arousing sight and walked over to the bureau where he found the scarf.
“If we don’t do anything more than we’ve already done, maybe it’ll be okay,” he said grimly, holding up the scarf, a question in his eyes. Katie looked bewildered.
“What are you talking about?”
“I mean if we keep a cap on this fucking thing,” he growled, “there’s a chance we won’t have to . . .”
“What?”
“Lose each other,” he grated out between a clenched jaw.
“You’re not going to lose me,” she whispered.
“I am. I think I already have, but I’m such a selfish fuck, I still want to taste you again,” he said bitterly.