Page 24 of Captured by the Billionaire Cowboy (The Secret Billionaires #7)

“ E xcuse me?”

The breathless words tested Rowan’s willpower, roiled his senses and infiltrated his mind.

He fought not to take charge, to care for Ciara as every instinct commanded.

He’d never felt as helpless as when he plunged into the powerful storm, unsure of if he’d even find her.

The relief when he did was all-encompassing, stark, striking and stunning.

His feelings became clearer in that moment, as well as his path.

Despite the past, he would explore the what-ifs with this woman, discover the connection that years could not destroy.

He simply wasn’t strong enough to stay away.

The depth of his feelings was incomprehensible: caring, protectiveness, possessiveness .

If only he could order her not to ride alone, or better yet, not to ride without him, but he couldn’t rein in the independent woman.

Right now, he just wanted to care for the beauty curled in the plush chair, so soft, so petite in his large jacket.

Beneath the softness was a will of steel, a woman who would limp through a massive storm to follow a horse who was probably already home.

She was cold, wet and shivering, the extent of her injuries unknown.

She would be displeased to know he contacted Bill Andrews, his neighbor and the doctor who treated his family for decades, to make a house call after work.

He would take a quick look and make sure she showed no signs of a concussion.

It was unlikely since she hadn’t hit her head, but he didn’t want to take any chances.

Now he focused on getting her warm. “Can I help you undress?”

Her face heated to an adorable pink, and his own desire surged.

He forced it down. No matter how strongly he felt, he would not take advantage of the situation.

“I’m not trying anything, Ciara. I just want you to be safe.

” He softened his voice. “The bathroom in your room only has a shower, and you shouldn’t put weight on that ankle.

If you fall, you could fracture it, or worse.

And you shouldn’t bathe alone, not after that fall.

” This was not about desire, but safety. He would not let her get hurt again.

She gazed at him for a moment, then visibly relaxed. “I’m sorry. I know you’re a good guy. I’m just a little overwhelmed.”

“Of course.” He leaned down until he was eye level with her. “Tell you what. I don’t have to watch, but I need to make sure you’re okay. How about I help you into the bathroom and leave you right next to the tub?”

Her gaze turned suspicious. “What’s the catch?”

He hid a smile. She knew him so well. “You leave the door cracked open and talk to me while you’re in there.”

She hesitated. Just when it seemed she would deny him, she nodded. “What about you? You’re soaking wet, too. You should get out of those clothes.”

Desire returned like the storm’s lightning. Did she realize what she’d said?

Oh yes. “I mean, it isn’t good to stay in wet clothes,” she stuttered, her skin turning from pink to red. “You could get sick.”

“I appreciate your concern.” And he truly did.

Few people would worry about another after they’d fallen off a horse, sprained an ankle and traveled miles through a raging storm.

“I’m fine, but if it makes you feel better, I’ll change while you’re in the bath.

” Before she could protest, he reached out. “Ready?”

She hesitated once more, but then shivered, nodded.

He gently picked her up, possessiveness flaring as he handled his precious charge.

In his arms, she was pure perfection, this kind and gracious woman who cared for everyone before herself.

He carried her into the bathroom and set her on a velvet-covered bench next to the tub.

The oversized white porcelain basin was already half full, with light steam rising from the gentle waves of crystal waters.

Warm, shallow and inviting, it was just what Ciara needed to recover from her ordeal.

She looked at it with undisguised longing, and satisfaction surged.

Yet then she shuddered again, and he frowned.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to help you undress?

” He expected her to give a quick retort, but instead she stared at him.

“If you need assistance,” he added quickly.

As much as he longed to explore with her, he wasn’t suggesting anything inappropriate.

It was important for her to understand that. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

She shook her head, yet for a moment a sliver of disappointment brightened her gaze. “I’m fine. I’ll call if I need anything.”

He nodded and walked away. He didn’t have the right to say anything more.

Not yet.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeeesss. And if you weren’t counting, that’s sixty-seven times you’ve asked.

” Ciara couldn’t stop a small smile, even as she expressed half-hearted exasperation.

She simply couldn’t be upset at Rowan, not even at his high-handed ways.

Instead, contentment, warmth and even satisfaction bloomed at the attention, and something far stronger.

When he said he’d ensure her safety, he meant it.

And in truth, she hadn’t minded a single one of those sixty-seven times.

It felt good to have someone care for her, just as she loved to care for others.

She submerged herself into the divine waters. The bath was the perfect medicine for her sore ankle and numerous pains. The steaming water chased away the cold, surrounding her like a heated blanket. The shivers disappeared, and the sharp pain in her ankle lessened to a dull ache.

Rowan had one of those fancy tubs with jets, and she turned them on after a few minutes. They softly massaged sore muscles, kneading away the remnants of the rigorous ride and punishing walk. Now she felt like a horse after an hour long rubbing.

Yet Rowan still infiltrated her thoughts.

When he suggested staying outside the door, wicked images had sparked, unbeckoned, inappropriate and unstoppable.

She’d resisted the urge to accept his offer to undress her, and not because she needed assistance.

What if she invited him to join her? Would he think she was delirious? Laugh at her?

Or would he strip off his clothing, bare that tanned, muscular body and bathe with her?

The desire was palpable, the attraction like nothing she’d ever felt before. She was not alone in her feelings, not when desire burned so strongly in his. Yet he’d been a gentleman the entire time, holding himself in iron control. Never had she wanted to test his control more.

Stop. She couldn’t do this. She’d traveled this path before, and it had ended in utter heartbreak.

Yet still… something had shifted recently.

In the past, he gripped his control with an iron fist, yet now he seemed prepared to pursue what he wanted.

With each stolen kiss, he became bolder, with each touch, something deeper sparked.

Suddenly, he seemed sure of what he wanted. And what did she want?

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 a cold setting.

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 and slippery .

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 neither breathed .

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.