Another boom of thunder sounded as she grabbed a lead rope.
“Toss me one.”
Hannah directed him to retrieve Winnie while she went after Roma. She whistled and clucked, approaching him slowly.
“Go on ahead,” she called to Stephen. “Third stall on the right. Her name’s on the door.”
Stephen disappeared and she continued to stalk the horse around the edges of the paddock. “It’s okay, boy. Don’t you want to go inside?” Each time she got close, the weather conspired against her and he shied away. A cool downdraft lifted his jet-black mane and brought pieces of her own hair across her face. A streak of lightning split the heavens just before the earth shook and the first fat raindrops fell.
“Come on, now. Be a good boy.” But Roma was rarely a good boy and bringing him in was never easy. She’d only taken him on as a boarder because she needed the money.
She had him stopped against the fence, but there was no way she could box him in enough that he couldn’t jerk away. She stroked his neck, speaking soft nonsense as she ran the rope across the animal’s quivering shoulders.
Roma’s eyes flashed and she caught the movement behind her. Stephen. He stepped in front of the horse, his tall, wide body giving her the edge she needed.
With a firm grip, she headed for the barn. The rain stung her cheeks and another flash slashed the sky in two. Roma rose in a half rear, ripping the nylon through her wet hand. She spun to make a grab for him and saw Stephen had looped his rope also and still had a solid hold. He jogged, bringing the horse along at a trot, leaving her to follow.
She slid the barn doors closed against the blowing sheets of rain while Stephen led Roma to his stall. With the latch secured he faced her, a smile playing across his lips. “Well, that was fun.”
Yes. And the image of Stephen standing in her barn in a wet T-shirt would be burned into her brain for all time.
She dipped into the tack room for some towels. When she turned, Stephen was there, filling the doorway and blocking her exit with his broad shoulders. How would he feel under her hands? Hard and hot over smooth? He leaned against the wood, making no move to let her by. And there was no way she could slide past without touching him.
There were a million things in this room she could distract herself with. She could fold or refold blankets, wipe down tack. But she couldn’t take her eyes off the man in front of her. She followed the drops of water that slid along the planes of his face. Down his neck until they met the wet fabric plastered to his chiseled upper body like a second skin. Yep, definitely more athlete than boardroom.
He stepped forward, crowding her back until her spine hit the wall behind her. The heat from his body steamed between them and chill bumps broke out along her arms. The towels hung forgotten at her side. She should move away. But, with the way he was studying each and every inch of her face, like he was looking even deeper—she couldn’t.
“You know…” he said softly, taking a towel from her hand. “I think they orchestrated this. Matt and Abby.”
He moved closer, just a fraction, and her heart rate tripled.
“Well, maybe not Matt. More likely Abby and Lizzy.”
He was so close she could see the black of his pupils against the rich brown. Saw the beginnings of a dark shadow along his carved jawline. And she could smell him. An indescribable delicious male scent. “Why?”
“Because they like you.” He ran the cotton up her arms and over her shoulders, stopping at her neck. He braced one hand on the wall behind her, leaned in, and lowered his head until his breath tickled her ear. “I like you too.”
The hard rain pounded the roof of the barn like her heart pounded inside her. He closed the remaining space until his solid chest came within a breath of her chilled nipples. She shivered again, flattened her palms against him, feeling his heat. His body flexed under her hands, but after a long deep breath and a heavy sigh, he straightened.
“I want to see you again. Tomorrow.”
Her stomach flipped with a new kind of fear and she was reminded of all the ways she could be hurt. “I didn’t think I was the kind of girl—”
“I’m sorry.” His eyes held hers, the regret clear in his serious brown eyes. “I was wrong. I am interested. More than interested, though I’m so far from the type of man you should be with I shouldn’t even be standing here. Yet here I am, asking for another chance.”
God, what could she say to that when she didn’t know what type he was or what type she needed? Suddenly it didn’t matter what he’d said. Didn’t matter that he’d crushed her hope before she’d even known what she was hoping for. Stephen looked at her and none of that mattered.
All she knew was she wanted to touch him. Wanted to take his face in her hands and feel the rough shadow over his angled jaw. Wanted to stare into eyes so hot they melted her. Terrified her.
“Hannah…” His hand came down to lightly caress her throat.
“Don’t. Please.” She dropped her gaze from a man too used to getting what he wanted, too used to being wanted. “Don’t play with me.”
“I’m not.”
But she went on, desperate to make him understand. “Because I can’t play, I don’t know how.” And she didn’t want to. She wanted someone to share her life with, someone to want her. When she found him it wouldn’t be a game. “Why are you doing this?”
“I told you, I want to see you again.”