Expecting a Scandal Page 7

  Vaughn swore. “Jason Phillips? The same man who sent the urn back with Will’s remains, only they weren’t Will’s remains.”

  Jason, like Will, was also a member of the Texas Cattleman’s Club. He was a key player at Will’s energy company, Spark Energy Solutions, although Abigail didn’t remember his exact role. He lived part-time in Dallas and part-time in Royal. She’d never heard him speak an angry word before that day she’d seen him fighting with the man who was impersonating Will.

  “Is Jason a suspect in stealing from Will? Or do they think he knew that Rich Lowell was a fake?”

  A cleaning crew rolled a cart past the lounge, mops and cleaners rattling as they steered their supplies over a threshold. The two women pushing it were having a rapid disagreement about whose turn it was to use the floor-polishing machine. The argument faded along with the clacking of the cart’s wheels.

  Vaughn tracked their progress, waiting until it was quiet again before he answered. “I’ve heard Jason is away on international business and can’t be reached. He could be Rich’s accomplice. He could have double-crossed him. Or he could have been completely innocent and his only crime was figuring out that Rich was a thief. But I think it’s clear you walked in on a very dangerous situation that day.”

  At the time, she simply didn’t want to be around men who were fighting. She didn’t want her baby around violence, either. But maybe she’d escaped something much worse. A new wariness crept over her, making her grateful for Vaughn coming here tonight. For checking on her.

  A chill had taken hold of her while they spoke. And the only place that felt warm was the spot where Vaughn touched. His hand still rested between her shoulders, as he continued to rub lightly.

  Unable to resist the comfort he offered, she tipped her head onto his shoulder. Allowed herself to soak in the feel of his arm tightening around her, hugging her close. For the moment, she felt safe. Protected.

  “I don’t think Rich Lowell would come after me.” She would be more careful anyhow, of course. “He doesn’t know I’m carrying his child, and he would be wise to stay far away from Royal with everyone looking for him.” If he’d stolen as much money from the real Will as she’d heard, he would be able to start a new life somewhere far, far away.

  Vaughn turned more fully toward her, taking her shoulders in his hands so he could look into her eyes. “He might not come for his child, Abigail. But what if he knows you saw him fighting with Jason? What if you saw or heard something significant that day without realizing it?”

  Fear sank deep inside her. She swayed slightly, and Vaughn reached to steady her. “But I didn’t hear anything specific. I don’t know what they were arguing about. I just recognized angry voices.”

  “I believe you, honey. And I’m not trying to frighten you. But I can’t stress enough how important it is for you to be careful.” He smoothed a path down her shoulders to her upper arms. “Have Security walk you out to your car at night. Install an alarm system at home and make sure you use it. But most of all, we need to call the police and let them know you saw Rich and Jason fighting.”

  Her mind whirled. Of course, he was right about all of those things. She wasn’t just protecting herself. She needed to make sure her child was safe. And for that reason, she would part with the extra money for an alarm system, even though it would put a bigger dent in that commission check.

  “I will.” Nodding, she tried not to feel overwhelmed. But her plate had been full before with a baby on the way and a massive art project to complete. Now, installing a new system would take time. And how could she compare prices when she felt like she needed protection right now? “I can stop by the station tonight on the way home.”

  She could cross that much off her list anyhow, even though she was bone-weary.

  “It’s already late. You must be exhausted.” He studied her for a long moment.

  She could tell he was thinking. And how funny that she’d known him for such a short time and already she understood things like that about him.

  “It’s not a problem. If I had any idea that what I’d seen was significant, I would have reported it already.” Shoving her notepad and drawings in her purse, she prepared to leave the hospital. “I’d better get underway, though. I want to be here early tomorrow to put in a full day’s work.”

  “May I make a suggestion?” He waited for her nod. “I don’t want to impose, but I’m happy to help.”

  He drew a breath, ready to roll out some kind of plan, but she shook her head.

  “No. You’ve already done so much to help me. Just giving me this commission in the first place—”

  “I didn’t do that for you. That was your talent. You were the committee’s first choice.”

  She wondered if that carefully worded answer meant that he hadn’t voted for her project. Not that it mattered. She’d gotten the job that meant everything to her. “Then you helped me by giving me access to your ranch and delivering all those tree limbs that will fuel my art for a long time to come.”

  Sliding off the work platform she’d built around her sculpture, she hopped to her feet. Searched in her bag for her keys.

  “My landscaper would have only created a burn pile with them otherwise. Giving them to you saves us the trouble.” He stood with her, stilling her hands before she could tug her keys from her purse. “Abigail, there are four empty bedrooms at my ranch. Sleep there tonight where you have Ruby and me to watch over you. Then, we can have a squad car come out tomorrow to talk to you there. You’ll get a good night’s rest and then can give a statement in the morning.”

  Vaughn’s hands held hers. Their gazes locked. Her throat went dry.

  “Sleep...at your place?” Her voice scratched over the words a little, the invitation making her think all the wrong things.

  All the things she’d been trying not to picture happening between her and the most appealing man she’d ever met.

  “Sleep,” he repeated, voice firm. “Trust me, I understand how the last guy you were with took advantage. I would never hurt you that way, swooping in to capitalize on a vulnerable moment.”

  Oh. She nodded stiffly, thinking it was probably a very sound plan. A wise idea. Good, rational thinking to help a pregnant woman get her rest and keep her safe.

  “Thank you. If you don’t mind, I will take you up on that.” She liked the idea of having Vaughn by her side when she gave her statement to the police. For his friendship. His support. And yes, the tender concern he’d showed her. She couldn’t deny that he was coming to mean a great deal to her.

  “Good. I can drive you there.” He checked his watch. “I’ll have to be to work early in the morning, too, so we can ride in together.” He walked her out to her car, stopping there just long enough so she could get a few of her things and lock it up again for the night.

  And then he was on the phone with the Royal police—a call to someone on the force he went to school with, apparently—and arranged for an officer to come out in the morning. It was all helpful and logical. Kind and thoughtful.

  Yet, as she slid into the passenger seat of the sexy sports car he used for work, Abigail couldn’t help but wish that Vaughn didn’t feel the need to be quite so honorable where she was concerned. She wasn’t all that vulnerable, damn it.

  If she wanted something more to happen between them, she was definitely in full command of her senses to make the decision. Not like that awful night back in February.

  No one was taking advantage of her again.

  A part of her wanted to plot a way to kiss him senseless as soon as they walked into his house. But the part of her that was five months pregnant reminded her she needed to think like a mother and not a woman with a fierce hunger for the man in the driver’s seat.

  Just sleep? She feared she was going to be too hot and bothered to even close her eyes.

  Six

  Vaugh
n wasn’t the only one excited to have a visitor.

  Ruby greeted Abigail with the full-on joy of the dog’s off-duty personality. A happy, panting, tail-wagging, follow-Abigail-everywhere welcome. As grateful as Vaughn was for the service animal’s training, he liked seeing the golden retriever simply enjoy their guest while he helped her settle into a downstairs bedroom. Abigail, for her part, seemed equally charmed. She had laughed with delight to see one of Ruby’s unsung skills on display as the dog helped her “unpack.” Abigail had brought a gym bag that she’d retrieved from her own car, a duffel she kept with clean clothes, a towel and toiletries.

  When Ruby sat at Abigail’s feet as she opened the bag, Vaughn mentioned Ruby’s unique gift. Only when Abigail clamored to see did he give Ruby the command to unpack, and the dog carefully gripped the toiletry bag in her teeth, carrying it to a drawer Vaughn had opened for her. One by one, Ruby transplanted all the items in the duffle.

  “She’s amazing,” Abigail proclaimed while Vaughn rewarded her with a treat and released her to play.

  Even then, Ruby didn’t venture far, wandering in and out of the suite while Vaughn double-checked that the room and attached bath had fresh towels and linens. Did the dog sense he needed a chaperone? He’d given Abigail his word that his offer for her to stay here was just to help her and keep her safe at a juncture in her life that had to be incredibly challenging. So, of course, Vaughn wasn’t going to let himself linger in this room with her for long. He would keep his word. But he wouldn’t court temptation, either.

  The room he’d given her was spacious, with three walls painted in a soft tan, while the wall behind the dark wood headboard was lined with reclaimed planks, like an old barn. A giant pair of steer horns had been mounted above the bed.

  “Can I get you anything else?” he asked after assuring himself she had clean towels. He stalked back into the bedroom, where she sat on the black painted chest at the end of the sleigh bed.

  A stack of extra blankets rested beside her, not that she’d need them in July, but he’d wanted to make sure she was comfortable. She’d kicked off the pink tennis shoes she had worn with her gray floral skirt and T-shirt, the pink canvas a feminine touch in a room otherwise full of heavy, dark woods and Aztec-themed patterns in the rugs, pillows and prints on the wall.

  “You’ve already been so generous.” Abigail stroked Ruby’s silky ears while the dog rested her head on the chest beside their guest.

  “A bottle of water? A snack before bed?” He knew he should let her sleep, but he also wouldn’t deny a pregnant woman sustenance. “I didn’t have much time for dinner, so I’m going to make something for myself.”

  Pulling her attention from his adoring dog, Abigail met his gaze slowly. There was something different in her expression. A determination, maybe. Or certainty.

  “I’m hungry, too.” She tilted her chin up as she came to her feet. Her skirt settled around her knees in a swirl of cotton knit. “Just not that kind of hungry.”

  He stilled. His heartbeat stuttered as his brain tried to take in the words and what they meant. Behind her, Ruby curled at the end of the chest. Content.

  Clearly, his dog wasn’t worried about whatever was happening here. But Vaughn wasn’t so sure about himself.

  “I brought you here to make life easier for you,” he reminded her, remembering what she’d been through with Rich Lowell. “I don’t want to take advantage of you on a day when you’ve had a scare. When the world is off-kilter.”

  He wanted to place his hands on her as she stepped closer to him. Comfort and reassure her. But with the sultry look in her eyes, he didn’t fully trust himself. The heat that had been simmering between them threatened to bubble over at the least provocation.

  “My world is not off-kilter.” She halted just inches away from him in the center of the room, under the ceiling fan that spun silently on a low setting, the air teasing through her dark curls. She lifted both hands to his chest and placed them there. “I wanted to be here tonight, not just to be safe from the past. But maybe to erase some of it, too.”

  Her fingers stroked along his shirt, smoothing either side of the placket. The citrus-and-spice scent of her fragrance teased his nose. Memories of her taste threatened to level all his good intentions.

  Heat rushed up his spine.

  “Abigail.” He held her shoulders, needing to keep her still another moment while he wrapped his brain around this. “I like you. Too damn much. I would never want you to regret this.”

  “The last time for me was so emotionally painful,” she confided, her dark eyes wide. Sincere. “I was vulnerable and weak. Now, I’m sure of myself. And I understand this isn’t necessarily going to lead to anything. I know you aren’t ready for a relationship. I just—” She shook her head, brow furrowed.

  “What?” His voice was ragged with need, but he tipped his chin up to see her more clearly. Wanting to understand.

  “I want a beautiful memory to replace an unhappy one.”

  The certainty in her voice broke through his last restraint.

  He wanted her more than he could remember ever wanting a woman before. She understood he couldn’t offer forever. But he could damn well give her this.

  “Then I’m going to make that happen, Abigail.” He skimmed a touch around her waist, his hands aching for a better feel of her. “Tonight, we’re going to torch those old memories for good.”

  * * *

  Breathless, Abigail was glad Vaughn held on to her because her knees went liquid at his promise.

  She’d made her desire plain. Taken control of her wants. And this incredibly sexy man pledged to deliver all of it. She shivered with longing as his hands spanned her hips, pulling her to him.

  He felt strong. Immovable. His body was a testament to physical training. Yet he’d been so tender with his kiss in the woods. So thoughtful with her tonight.

  Now, she wanted all that delicious male muscle around her. Enveloping her. Holding her. She arched up on her toes and kissed him, the scruff of beard a gentle abrasion to her chin and cheeks, depending how she shifted against him. For a moment, she breathed him in. The scent of woodsy soap and musky man, the sensual glide of his tongue along her lower lip.

  Teasing, tempting, tasting.

  Then, the kiss went a little wild. A groan of hunger from him. A sigh of pleasure from her. Fingers combing through his thick hair, she couldn’t feel enough of him. She kissed a path along his cheek and his jaw, her body melting everywhere he touched her. Her dress felt paper-thin, the heat of his body setting hers aflame.

  He walked them backward toward the bed, falling with her onto the king-size mattress, taking her weight so she settled gently into the soft red duvet printed with a gray-and-white Aztec design.

  “Are you okay?” Vaughn asked, a soft whisper in her ear. “I want to be careful with you.”

  His teeth nipped the tender lobe, sending a quiver down her spine. Her hair spilled all around them, some of the curls still clinging to his shoulders as he angled back to unfasten her skirt.

  “I’m perfect.” She reached to work on the buttons on his shirt, wanting to feel his skin without any barrier. “I want more. I want to see you.”

  His green eyes tracked hers, thoughtfully assessing. Or maybe seeing how serious she was about that.

  “That feeling is mutual.” He raised up on his elbow, then all the way to a sitting position. “But since tonight is all about you, I’ll go first.”

  “Slowly,” she blurted. Because she was having such an incredible track record with getting what she wanted tonight she might as well go for broke.

  A darkly masculine smile made her feel faint with yearning. But he unfastened one button after another. Taking his time. “I like this sensual streak I’m beginning to see.”

  She tugged a pillow under her head to make herself more comfortable, watching his talented han
ds work. “I’m an artist, remember? I have a fondness for appealing lines and angles.”

  Stripping off his dress shirt, he wore a fitted white tank beneath it. He reached behind him to tug that over his head, tossing both onto the chest at the foot of the sleigh bed.

  Vaughn clothed was a sight to behold.

  Vaughn with no shirt was a vision of athletic male grace. Tattoos swirled and danced on his collarbone and chest. Tribal art in black work, she thought at first. But as she looked closer there were names inked into those graphic swirls. Dates.

  Her heart squeezed in recognition. Understanding.

  He was covered with a vibrant pattern of losses.

  She didn’t need to ask to know. Shifting to her knees, she leaned closer to kiss the places where Vaughn had etched a memorial to patients, maybe, and to the brothers lost in Afghanistan.

  Too many.

  For a moment, he allowed the gentle tribute of her lips on his skin, combing his fingers through her tousled hair. But then he edged away to meet her gaze.

  “Do I get to see you now?” His hands bracketed her hips, thumbs retreating just a little way under the hem of her T-shirt, where he touched bare skin.

  He sought to redirect her, she thought, unwilling to share stories about those names on his body. She understood about sharing loss in small doses. Understood how much it could hurt.

  So she let him set the pace where his past was concern. Instead, she focused on his thumbs grazing her expanding waist, his touch causing delicious shivers. Pleasure coursed through her veins, thick and hot.

  With it, however, came a hint of reservation.

  “My body isn’t the stuff of male fantasy these days,” she reminded him, sinking back on her heels a bit.

  “You, of all people, must know how thoroughly pregnant bodies have captivated the artistic imagination for centuries.” He molded his hands to her body under her shirt, feeling the curve of her stomach and hips. “A woman is never more beautiful than when she’s carrying a new life inside her.”