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R hae brushed her fingers over the downy hair on Navy’s head, her heart tangled with a dozen emotions.

Her bottle was still half-full, but Navy’s rounded belly rose and fell in the rhythm of sleep that made Rhae ache with tenderness. Peace like this had become the norm after she settled in at the Black Heart.

Now she saw how precious the feeling was.

She turned away from the crib where her baby slept, moving on quiet feet to the front of her quarters.

The space was quiet except for the ticking of a wall clock somebody placed here long before she took over the space. Beyond the windows came the distant hum of the wind blasting down from the mountains. On a normal night, these sounds would comfort her.

Tonight, it scraped over her like sandpaper.

She padded to the couch and picked her book up off the side table, tucking her legs beneath her. She stared at the same page for five minutes before giving up.

With a sigh, she lowered the book to her lap and stared into space.

She’d told him everything. Well, almost everything.

Robert Ravencroft.

Her fingers tightened on the book.

Thinking his name felt like cracking open her ribs, letting Denver look into a part of her that had been bracing for impact for months.

Fear had no place in her life, in her daughter’s life or on this ranch. It was what made her feel so at home here. Now one small mistake, made by Willow in the name of honor and respect, had kicked the legs out from under her.

She stood and crossed the room, flicking off the lamp on the way to the bedroom. Navy turned her head, sighing in sleep. She felt drawn to the baby, and moved to stand by the side of the crib, looking down at her innocent daughter and grounding herself in all the reasons why she had to be strong.

Then came the knock. Muted but firm.

Rhae’s pulse kicked up, and she hurried to answer it.

For a moment, she simply stood there, hand resting on the handle. Through the wood came a deep, quiet voice.

“Rhae. It’s me.”

She opened it.

Denver stood there, framed by the dim lights illuminating the hallways at night. But his face was in shadow.

He stepped closer, his gaze locked on hers, dark and unreadable.

He didn’t say a word.

He dipped his head and kissed her.

Without warning and without apology, just rough and real, his mouth claimed hers as he eased her backward so he could close and lock the door.

Her breath hitched along with her heart, and she buried her hands in his shirt, dragging him closer. Needing to feel his body heat, the shield of his chest and the strength of his arms.

He angled his head and plundered her lips for long heartbeats, dissolving her worries that he couldn’t handle what she’d told him. He kissed her like the truths she’d told him—about Navy, about what she was running from—didn’t scare him at all.

He kissed her like he’d already chosen to bear the weight of those things.

When he lifted his head, she searched his eyes and saw it there—the unwavering fury. But it wasn’t aimed at her. It was aimed at the person who had hurt her. Deeper in his gray eyes was a spark of steel that spoke another dangerous truth—that he wouldn’t let it happen again.

She was shaking.

And for once, she didn’t mind letting him see it.

“My god, Rhae.” He scooped her off her feet, carrying her in a few silent strides to the bed.

When he laid her down on the mattress, he turned his head, stare fixed on the baby.

Rhae didn’t follow his gaze. She skated her fingers over his jaw, falling more in love with him by the second.

“She won’t wake up if we’re quiet.”

He swung his head to meet her gaze. “Then we’ll be quiet.”

Joy and desire exploded inside her. Pushing upward, she sought his kiss even as he took her mouth. In quiet rustles, they stripped each other. Exploring and tasting, aware of each other in ways she’d come to realize few people ever got a chance to experience in life.

He tore from the kiss, chest heaving, and grazed his lips over her chin, down her throat. She arched, biting off a small moan. He traced a path between her breasts, then swished his head to the side to capture one nipple between his lips.

She swallowed a cry, fingers scoring over his shoulders and down his back.

He writhed at her rough touch and responded with a gentle nip to her belly as he slipped down her body.

When he pressed her knees up and back, spreading her to his warm mouth, she lost all sense of reality. In each flick of his tongue, every thrust into her pussy, she gave herself up to Denver a little more.

As if the man didn’t already own her, body, heart and soul.

Her insides licked with liquid heat as her orgasm rushed up, fast and furious. Her mouth opened on a silent scream, and she twisted her fists in the sheets to keep herself tethered to the world.

Then he was moving again, taking her mouth at the same moment he thrust his cock inside her. Deep. Stretching.

Her insides clutched at him, and she rocked upward to meet his thrust. His eyes glinted in the nightlight she kept on in the bedroom for the times she had to get up, and the fierce look on his face made her heart throb faster.

“Rhae.” His murmur was a caress.

“Denver!”

He rolled with her, settling her on top, straddling him. She threw herself into driving them both higher and higher, kissing him with all she had inside her for long, lonely months.

His arms felt like a safe haven and his body, a solid promise—strong enough to hold her, steady enough to never let her fall.

They rolled again, and he hooked one of her legs over his shoulder.

Her eyes rolled up in her head at the deep angle that…hit…every…spot.

“Oh, god,” she whispered.

“Fuck!” was his answer against her lips.

The rhythm grew frantic, then desperate, as if neither of them could stand to be separated a second longer, not after all that had come between them.

His hand slipped downward, and his thumb found her clit.

Her whole body locked around him, and she bit back a sharp cry.

“Denver—” she choked out.

“I got you. I got you.”

She shattered in his arms in a blinding rush that left her trembling and clinging to him. His release followed with a deep, broken sound, his body crashing against hers in a series of final thrusts.

For a long moment, they lay tangled, breathing hard.

Rhae’s head rested over his thundering heart. “I didn’t mean to drag you into my mess.”

“Our mess. What’s yours is mine now.”

They turned their heads at the same time to look at their precious little girl, fast asleep, unaware of the storm hovering over them.

They lay in the quiet, holding each other like survivors washed up on the shore.

And, for the first time in months…she didn’t feel alone.

* * * * *

Denver nearly dropped the wine trying to open the door without a sound. With his arms full of provisions, he backed into Rhae’s rooms. When he turned, she was already standing there.

Wearing his T-shirt.

Not the one he wore there this evening. One of his old shirts.

“I wondered what happened to that shirt.” He kept his voice pitched low so he didn’t wake Navy.

Rhae rushed forward to take the wine from him, and he shifted a box of stolen cupcakes to his empty hand.

“Where in the world did you get all this?”

His gaze landed on her toned legs, and he was rendered immobile as he watched her stride to the coffee table and set down the wine.

“Raided the bunkhouse.”

“The bunkhouse!” Her surprised whisper was just as good as the look on her face.

He grinned and quietly set everything down on the coffee table with the wine. “The guys are gonna think I’m pregnant when they see the array of things I looted from their stash.”

“Don’t even joke about pregnancy. And I wasn’t aware there were ranch hands living in the bunkhouse, let alone ones that drink wine.”

“I think the bottle was a gift.” He dropped to his knees and began pulling items out of the bags—cold leftover chicken from the fridge, a jar of homemade pickles, potato chips and the cupcakes.

Rhae knelt beside him and opened the box to reveal three cupcakes with blue frosting. She tilted her head. “B-K-E.” She read the icing letters on the tops. “What does that mean?”

He shrugged. “Beats me. I think they’re from somebody’s birthday.”

She dropped back to sit on her heels. “We can’t steal someone’s birthday cupcakes, Denver!”

“We can. I did.” He stuck his finger in the blue frosting and brought it to her lips.

Her eyes gleamed with desire as she parted her lips for a taste. The instant her tongue darted out and delicately licked his finger, he groaned.

She leaned over and brushed a kiss over his jaw. “This is a lot of food for a midnight snack.”

He wagged his brows at her. “We need the energy for what I have in mind.”

She giggled in a whisper. Their entire conversation had taken place in whispers, and it left him feeling like a teenager sneaking around their parents—except their “parent” was nine months old and drooled on everything. It was ridiculous. And it was perfect.

He waved a hand toward the food. She reached for a cold drumstick, and he got up to open the wine. Her gaze followed his every move.

The way she looked at him sent a hot wave through his stomach.

Warm lamplight spilled over her, highlighting her tousled hair and making her eyes gleam.

Using a knife, he managed to work the cork out of the bottle. It gave a soft pop that made both of them freeze, listening for Navy to stir. When no sound followed, he carried the wine back and held it out to Rhae.

She looked between him and the wine. “Am I supposed to drink straight from the bottle?”

He gave a slow nod.

Slowly, she brought it to her lips and took a test sip. Before she could fully swallow it, he kissed her. Hard.

She gulped down the wine, trying not to laugh, and looped one hand around his neck to keep kissing him back.

They broke apart, and he took a chomp out of the drumstick she was holding, which coaxed another laugh from her.

“Are you trying to seduce me with a floor picnic?”

“Is it working?”

She took another sip before nodding. Her eyes aglow.

Gone was the worry—the fear—he’d seen in their depths after she heard Willow had added her to the website.

He took the drumstick out of her hand and set to work finishing it off. A giggle burst out of her, and she slapped her hand over her mouth to silence it, her gaze darting to the open bedroom door.

“If you wake her up, you’re rocking her back to sleep!” she hissed.

“If it means getting you underneath me again, I’ll do everything in my power to get her to sleep quick.”

And just like that, the lightness between them thickened with heat.

Rhae’s lips parted. Her cheeks flushed.

She didn’t wait—she just climbed into his lap and kissed him. He dropped the chicken back into the box and swiped his greasy fingers on his jeans before planting his hand over her spine, drawing her against him as their mouths melded.

He groaned into her mouth, his cock already hard under her sweet ass in his lap. Aching to be inside the place he dreamed about all of these months apart.

She threw herself into the kiss, growing wilder by the second, tasting of wine and lust.

“I can’t get enough of your mouth,” he growled as he plundered her.

Her breath grew ragged. Her hips rolled against his rock-hard cock.

Tearing his mouth away, he went for her neck, skating his lips to the sensitive spot he knew would make her writhe. “I should have brought whipped cream.”

She giggled. “Next time.”

He ran his hand under the shirt she wore—his shirt—skimming over her bare spine.

Her skin was hot and silky, her breath catching as he dragged his fingers along each vertebra. She shivered, hips pressing down on him with clear intent.

“God, Rhae.” He kissed the curve where her neck met her shoulder. “You keep doing that and I’m not gonna last long.”

“That’s the idea,” she whispered, lips teasing along his jaw.

She shifted in his lap, tugging the shirt up and off without ceremony and tossing it away.

The low light brushed over her skin like a lover’s touch.

Every part of her was soft, strong, real—her body, her curves, the slight dip at her waist, the swell of her breasts.

All of it his to memorize again and again.

And now that he knew she’d carried his child, he understood the light pink marks that streaked her abdomen.

He stretched his fingers over the marks and delved deep into her eyes. “I wish I could have seen you carrying our child.”

Tears sprang into her eyes. “Me too.” She dropped her forehead against his, shivering lightly as he explored her body.

He cupped her breasts, brushing his thumbs over her nipples, and she gasped, arching against him.

“This okay?” His voice was rough.

Her hands framed his face. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

He kissed her hard then, hands sliding to her hips as she ground down again, heat meeting heat through too much clothing. She made a frustrated sound, and they were fumbling with his waistband, laughing quietly when his fly caught, and then…nothing but skin.

He lay back, letting her take control, watching her with dazed hunger as she sank onto him with a breathless moan. His hands gripped her thighs, but not to guide—just to anchor himself.

She moved slowly at first, savoring it, savoring him . It was different this time. Slower. Deeper. Less frantic, more connected. Her eyes locked on his, and it felt like more than just sex. Like she was giving him something she hadn’t dared let go of before.

Love. Trust. A place in her future.

He reached up, brushing her hair back as her rhythm picked up. “I missed you.”

“I know,” she whispered. “I missed you too. More than I should’ve.”

“No such thing.”

She bent to kiss him, bracing herself on his chest, and that small movement changed everything.

He hit deeper, her moan shattering into the space between them.

“Denver—”

“Right here,” he promised, holding her steady, letting her ride him until she trembled in his arms. “I’ve got you, Rhae. Always.”

Her climax built fast and hard, body coiling, breath catching. When she broke apart above him, he caught every sound with his mouth, every shiver with his hands. And when she was still shaking, he gave in too, groaning her name as he followed her over the edge.

They collapsed together on the blanket, tangled and breathless.

He pulled her close, one hand stroking her back as she laid her head on his chest, heart still racing.

The room was warm. Quiet. Safe.

After a few minutes, she whispered, “I’m scared.”

“I know.” He kissed her temple. “But you don’t have to be. Not with me here.”

“You don’t know what he’s capable of.”

He went still beneath her, then said quietly, “I know what I’m capable of. And I’m telling you right now—Robert Ravencroft won’t get near you or Navy. Not while I’m breathing.”

She looked up at him, eyes wide.

He held her gaze. “You don’t have to run anymore, Rhae. You have me. And I’m not going anywhere.”