Read Circle Eight: Vaughn for Free Online Page B

might have been.
    She finally raised her head and met his gaze. His handsome face was a foot away. She saw the small scar by the corner of his mouth, the slight bend in the middle of his nose, the three-day growth of whiskers and, more than anything, the desire in his dark eyes.
    Desire for her. Elizabeth Graham, the too tall spinster with a permanent crease between her eyes from frowning. The serious sister who spent her days taking care of the books and running the business of a ranch.
    Impossible.
    “I don’t understand,” she blurted.
    He cupped her cheek. “You are by far the most genuine person I’ve ever met.”
    Frustrated, she pulled away from his touch. “What does that mean? I am who I am, does that make me desirable?”
    He took her face in his hands, the long-fingered hands with calluses. His thumbs caressed her cheeks. “It means I don’t think I’ve met a woman who was who she was. It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”
    “I’m not.” She protested even as she leaned toward him, eager for more, her body fairly vibrating with need for him.
    “You are.” He leaned in and kissed her. His lips were softer than she expected and so very warm. “Now please help me with the bath.”
    She should say no, walk away and leave him to his bath. She knew before she opened her mouth that she would not.
    Instead, she reached for the buttons on the threadbare shirt. He dropped his arms and watched her. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t seen his body. She had taken care of him for two days, wiping him down, stitching him up, taking care of his personal needs. This was different, more intimate.
    His skin was smooth, with various scars marking him on his arms and chest. She wondered how he’d gotten wounded—or perhaps she shouldn’t know. He was a mystery to her and that’s how it should be. This was an interlude in her life that wouldn’t be repeated.
    She slid the shirt down his arms and let it fall to the floor. When she reached for the buttons on the trousers, she noted the evidence of his arousal. His cock strained against the fabric, waiting to be released, to greet her. Elizabeth should be afraid, but she was excited, not scared.
    She had spent twenty-one years being the middle daughter, the smart, studious one who never had fun. In this surreal moment, she would discover what she’d been missing.
    “Are you sure about this, Ellie?” The shortened version of her name sounded perfect coming from his mouth.
    “Yes. I don’t think I’ve ever been so sure of anything in my life.”
    “Then let me take these off while you go fetch soap and a rag, maybe a towel.”
    Her hands shook as she pulled back from touching him. He was right. She needed to get soap and she also needed to check on Martha.
    “I’ll be right back.” She left the room, her heart pounding hard and her breath ragged. The soap and rags were in the kitchen. She took what she needed, then walked to Granny’s room. Elizabeth pressed her ear to the door and heard nothing from within.
    She knocked with the barest touch of her knuckles and waited. If she opened the door, she could wake the older woman. On the other hand, if something was wrong, she would never forgive herself for not checking.
    Satisfied the best thing was to peek in the room, she slowly turned the knob and pushed the door open an inch. She peered in and saw Martha asleep on her pillow, her chest rising and falling with even breaths. Elizabeth eased the door shut and gave thanks.
    She returned to the room where Vaughn waited. This time her hands were steady when she opened the door. He was in the tub, his arms propped on the sides, a smile on his face.
    She closed the door behind her and took a deep breath. Butterflies had taken up residence in her belly as she stepped into the room. She knelt beside the tub without looking into the water. His knees stuck up above the surface, which wasn’t surprising. He was quite tall and the tub wasn’t that large.
    He held out his