her, out in that water, and the cold didn’t do anything to dampen his arousal. Her hands were slick on his back as they kissed, and she began to shiver, began to shake. Then she slipped from his arms and beneath the surface of the water, swimming away from him, the white fabric she was wearing floating around her, her blond hair a pale cloud. And when she emerged from the water on the other side of the river, she climbed up the rocks and sat on the edge, her knees pulled up to her chest, her blond hair hanging in limp twists around her face. A bedraggled fairy.
He felt like for the first time he might finally be seeing what she was. Without all her enchantment, without all that magic.
And she was still perfect to him.
Even like this. Frightened and sitting on a rock, reduced by that fear.
But he didn’t want her to be afraid.
He swam across the space and climbed up beside her, taking care to avoid the sharp rocks, given that he didn’t have the protection of clothing. She looked up at him, and for a moment he saw all that unmasked fear in her eyes. Confusion.
He felt like he was staring down at her like on that night he found her being beaten by her father. When he had carried her out of that house and looked down at her then.
His heart ached. To think that he had caused her pain that somehow echoed back to that.
He wanted to catch her up and protect her. And when she shivered again, that was exactly what he did. He swept them both up from the rocks, and carried her to a patch of grass that sat in the sun. This part of the ranch was generally unoccupied, as it took crossing the river or driving on the road that encircled the place to get back here. So he had no worries about being caught. There was nothing to do but simply lie in the sun on that soft, sweet patch of grass.
He looked at her body, beautiful and pale, droplets of water sliding over her skin, the sun drying her slowly. He put his hand on her stomach, where their child grew, and then he slid it down to her hip, then between her thighs, stroking her as he lowered his head for a kiss. He kept on doing that until she was sobbing, her breath catching on each small noise.
This woman.
This woman had come into his life and burst through all the grief and pain and darkness.
And he wanted to do it for her. It wasn’t about her loving him back. He wanted that more than anything. Except this.
He wanted to find her. So that she could find herself. He wanted her to be able to shine her own light all the way down inside.
To be healed by him in the way that he felt healed by her.
“I love you,” he whispered. And then he kissed her, positioning himself between her thighs and thrusting home. Her blue eyes widened, and then she closed them tight.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
SAMMY WONDERED IF this was what dying felt like. Being stripped bare. Reduced to a raw nerve both inside and out. It was too much. Her heart felt scrubbed raw, and so did her skin. The feeling was just now returning to it fully from that dip in the water, and it was like icy pinpricks were dotting her skin with flashes of heat in between. And then there was Ryder. Over her. In her. His eyes burning into hers with an intensity that made her need to look away.
Because he could see her.
He could see her, and she couldn’t even see herself.
There was nothing but confusion, white noise. Except then he had whispered that he loved her. And he had entered her body. And that noise had quieted, everything centering down to him, to the moment.
And there was something almost more frightening about that quiet, about that calm. Because it had come from him. And it spoke of need.
And something else she didn’t want to uncover.
So she closed her eyes, and she tried to hide. Even as pleasure buffeted her. As desire made her mindless, need made her senseless.
“Look at me,” he whispered.
And she obeyed. She obeyed because she could do nothing else.
When those eyes met hers again she felt him. All of him, searing her right down to her soul.
And he was... He was the steadiest, best man that she