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hard they shook the bed. He almost decided to abort the mission. She couldn’t possibly be enjoying it. When she finally moved again, he guided her hips to make sure she moved slowly enough.
    He squeezed his eyes shut as her hot little sheath electrified him to the balls with pleasure. Physically, she was the best lay he’d ever had. She must have the tightest pussy west of the Rockies. Unfortunately, it also screwed with his head. Images of Jared refused to go away. Then he thought of her father’s old boots still sitting in the kitchen. How alone she was.
    His fingers clamped around her waist. The urge to shift ripped through him. He arched his toes to hold it off. What the hell? He could always control his shifting, especially during sex. Unlike other women, she touched him on a deeper level than hot, slick genitals. He never expected sleeping with a mate to be so intense.
    Their bodies moved in rhythm, playing the old bedsprings like an accordion. Her moans told him she felt pleasure through the pain. Aroused out of their minds, his nuts tightened into knots.
    He didn’t feel the wet droplets on his chest at first. Holy buffalo crap. She was crying.
    “Hey, why the tears?” He cradled the back of her head with his palm.
    “I don’t know.” She shook her head. “Everything.”
    “Then let it out. I’m going to come soon, though. Can’t hold it off.”
    Nodding, she wiped her red eyes while hoarse sobs racked her tiny frame. A haunting chill gripped Roark’s heart. He was probably the first person who’d held her since her father had died.
    How could he walk away tomorrow, leaving her to her lonely life?
    When she dropped to lie completely on top of him, he pulsed his release into the condom inside her. A delicious ache throbbed through his cock with each spurt. Tonight wasn’t his best performance. He’d made the woman cry, for God’s sake. She hadn’t climaxed, either, but that wasn’t surprising given her virginity.
    Despite everything, it was the best freaking sex he’d ever had.
    Even Jared faded from his mind. They held each other for a long time without moving. Yeah, it would be hard to leave her tomorrow, but he had to get away from Yellow Barrel Ranch and Wyoming. Time to put those pictures away, move his pack to safety, and get on with his life.
    Hellhole, South Dakota didn’t look half bad anymore.
     
    ***
     
    The next morning, Carrie hummed an old mining tune to herself while she cooked flapjacks and ham. Daddy used to whistle it in the morning. How nice to fix breakfast for someone else instead of herself. In fact, she rarely bothered with much anymore besides coffee and toast. Her stomach growled. Roark had worked up the biggest appetite she’d had in a long time.
    He strolled into the kitchen, his gorgeous black hair damp from his shower and hanging loose over his shoulders.
    “I figured you’d be up at the butt-crack of dawn,” he said after yawning.
    “Got chores to do,” she replied.
    He slipped a possessive arm around her waist and kissed her. Tingles shot through her cleft as she remembered last night. She was so sore, but it was a good sore. Like being in the saddle all day at roundup time.
    “Breakfast smells great,” he said. “Can I use your phone to call a tow truck? My cell doesn’t get any signal here.”
    “Sure. Use the one in the den where it’s quieter.”
    His walk reminded her of a loping animal as he left the room. Lord, he was a fine-looking bull. Maybe she’d dream about him instead of her nightmares. He’d been so gentle and sweet in her bed. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes again as she flipped over the flapjacks.
    She’d gotten used to living alone, but after he left, she wasn’t sure she could handle it again. Last night had changed her in more ways than one.
    He was a friend of the man she’d killed, she reminded herself. Yes, man. The jaunty tune died on her lips as nausea settled into her gut. Had fate sent Roark here to torment her?