Page 132 of The Rough Rider

He denied himself for so long. On so many levels. And now she was right here. And she wanted him. And he’d done a pretty weak-ass job of denying his need for her—that had to be said.

He wasn’t going to start doing a better job now.

“I thought you might like a bath,” she said.

Her voice was husky and seductive. And she was everything.

“With you?”

“Naturally.”

“Great.”

He left the beer, followed her out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Her hair was a bright red waterfall, that robe such a glaringly innocent white. But his thoughts were anything but innocent. Anything but pure.

She looked over her shoulder as she ducked into the bathroom, and it was enough to send him straight to his knees.

She had the bath filled up with water, and it had bubbles.

And Gus McCloud had never taken a bubble bath in his entire life. But he sure as hell was about to.

He started to pull his clothes off, and she stared at him. Like she was hungry for him. And the kick of lust that went through him was more than he could bear. She untied the belt on the robe, and let it fall away from her beautiful curves. Her stomach was showing more.

Evidence of what was to come. The baby.

“We need to get our rooms moved,” he said.

Because it triggered that thought.

One of the few coherent thoughts he was able to have while staring at her in all her glory.

“I’m looking forward to sharing with you.”

“Whatever new stuff you want to get for the baby. You can get it.” Right now she could have anything she wanted. Anything. He’d sell off half his horses and get her anything she asked for.

“Thank you,” she said. “But we don’t need to plan anything right now.”

She took his hand and led him to the tub, and he got in, and she slipped in behind him, moving her hands down over his chest. And he groaned. He leaned back against her, her breasts pillowing his head, her core hot at his back.

And she started to rub his shoulders.

And he couldn’t remember the last time anyone had just touched him. Casually. With this kind of care.

It was sexual. But there was something more to it.

The kind of sweetness and softness he’d never experienced before.

“Thank you so much for helping with my family today. That was really wonderful.”

“It was important to you.”

“I like watching you work,” she said, moving her hands down his stomach, coming maddeningly close to that part that was stiff and hard for her. But she just barely grazed him, and he groaned.

“This is kind of a silly question,” she said. “But why did you stay? Why do you love this place? Because I know it’s hard for you. I know being here is difficult. I know that the room is difficult.”

He stiffened. He didn’t really want to have this conversation; he just wanted her to keep on touching him. He didn’t want to do this talking thing.

“Alaina...”

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