“You not only almost met your shadow, but you almost met your Maker.”

She fumbled at the buttons of her blouse, her fingers still numb. As he stepped out onto the bank and drew nearer, she tried not to notice the assured way he held himself and the strength that radiated from him.

But as he stopped only a couple of paces away, it was as if only a day had passed since he’d left. She was just as aware of his rugged good looks, work-roughened body, and no-nonsense blue eyes as she’d always been.

Why couldn’t he be as plain as paint? Just wasn’t fair for one fella to be so handsome. And just wasn’t fair she was drawn to him worse than a bear cub to a bowl full of honey, even after how hard she’d worked to stamp out every little bit of hankering for him. All it had taken was one glimpse of him standing there at Elkhorn Ranch, and earlier tonight all that desire had come flooding back worse than before.

Her fingers shook, and she lost her grip on her button.

“Look at you.” Irritation laced his words. “Frozen to the bone.”

She’d always had a knack for irritating him to no end. Seemed she still did.

“One more reason you shouldn’t take baths in the river.”

“I always manage fine.”

He reached for her button, as though to help her, and in the process, his fingers brushed against her chemise. A shiver skipped along all her nerve endings, one more powerful than any she’d ever experienced with him. And she’d had plenty of innocent contact with him over the years—hands brushing while roping, shoulders touching while sitting together on a corral fence, feet bumping beneath a table.

But this . . . this was different. His presence powerful and raw and real. Warmth radiated from him. And his touch was somehow more intimate.

His fingers hovered above her as if he’d just noticed her curves and his proximity. She could almost see the realization clicking in his head, could almost hear his mental berating. She couldn’t keep from taunting him. “Scared if you help me, you won’t be able to let go when you’re done?”

He gave a low, scoffing laugh. “Of course not.”

“Prove it.”

He hesitated, stared at the button, and then dropped his hands and fell back a step. “I don’t need to prove anything to you, Ivy.”

She was being wanton again, wasn’t she? And he was still set on rejecting her. This was the way it had always been. Clearly nothing had changed.

“Reckon I can take care of myself just fine and don’t need to prove anything to you either.” She bent and swiped up her Buster Bliss outfit and began stuffing it into her saddlebag.

He watched her silently.