His heart slamming into his ribs, he took a step closer. “I want to build a future with you, Heather. I want to have children with you. I want to share my life with you. If you don’t want to live on the ranch, I could sell it… We could move somewhere where you could be happy.”

She closed her eyes in wonder, cherishing the words she’d been longing for, waiting for, forever.

“Heather?” he asked, his voice a hoarse rasp. “God, please say something. Tell me if I still have a chance.”

“I… never thought you could love me.”

“I do. As heaven is my witness, I do.” He closed the distance between them, his face harsh with strain. “I didn’t want to. I fought it from the first moment we met. I was afraid to love you, afraid you’d be taken from me like Doe was. You were right. I had to let go of my guilt. But I think I’ve done that, Heather. Doe doesn’t claim my heart any longer, you do. I love you. I can’t live without you. Please…”

She gazed up at him, her beautiful eyes blurred with tears, filled with hope.

Hardly daring to breathe, Sloan reached for her, his shaking hands framing her face beneath her bonnet. He kissed her very slowly, carefully, like he’d found something fragile, precious. Like he would shatter if she turned him away. He was desperate to reclaim her, to bridge the chasm between them with wordless, unbreakable bonds.

He could feel her trembling, feel himself trembling, as he whispered, “Heather, can you ever forgive me?”

She heard the pain in his voice, heard the pleading, and her heart broke. He was so tough, so impenetrable, so vulnerable. “Yes, Sloan … I forgive you.”

He drew back so he could again see her eyes. “You said you loved me. Did you really mean it?”

“Yes, I meant it.” The tears spilled over her eyes; she knew she was crying and couldn’t help it. “I love you. I’ve loved you for so long—”

He stopped her words with his mouth. He hauled her against him and kissed her, deep and fierce this time, telling her without speaking how desperately he needed her, wanted her. When he felt her quivering response, desire filled him, desire and joy and wonder.

He ended the kiss at last, although he didn’t let her go. Instead his arms wrapped around her. He stood holding her close, molding her against him.

“I love you.” His whisper was wild and low. “These last weeks have been a torment. You don’t know how much.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Heather, I want to stop hurting.”

“So do I,” she whispered.

“Then you won’t leave me?”