Free The Education of Madeline by Beth Williamson

looking like a Greek god come to life in a new blue shirt and brown trousers that had been delivered that morning. “You feeling better today?”
    â€œYes, I am. Eppie says I can wash her poultice off later. It smells a lot worse than it feels.”
    He grinned. “I’ll take your word for it.”
    â€œBelieve me, I can’t wait to take a bath and get clean.”
    His eyes darkened. “A bath? Sounds…inviting.”
    Her pulse sped up, and the ache intensified within her. She was nearly glad for the robe so he couldn’t see how hard her nipples actually were.
    â€œYes, inviting.” Her voice was husky, aroused.
    â€œDo you think you’ll be ready for another lesson after your bath?”
    Oh, yes, yes, yes!
    â€œPerhaps,” she said, amazed she was actually flirting with him. “Will you be ready to teach?”
    Teague sauntered toward her with his predatory gait, like a great big cat stalking its prey. A shiver danced up her spine. He was so big, so…masculine. Thank God Madeline had found him. Thank God he was hers for a month.
    He leaned down and brushed his lips lightly across hers like the wings of the butterfly she’d been watching. She closed her eyes and savored the brief contact, inhaled his scent, his essence.
    â€œI’ll be ready.”
    With one last searing glance, he walked back out of the room. Madeline couldn’t help but stare at his behind. It was firm, round, and her hands itched to feel its contours, touch his skin.
    Madeline couldn’t wait for her bath.
    Â 
    Eppie put rose petals in the bathwater. It was as if she knew something was going to happen that night. Something Madeline needed to smell pretty for.
    Eppie chattered on and on about Isaiah and how wonderful he was. Madeline was excited to see her friend truly smitten with a man. She deserved to be happy. She finally left Madeline alone with soap and a washrag, which she put to good use immediately.
    After the poultice washed off, she finally got a good look at her skin. It was bright pink but had no blisters or scarring. It felt a bit tight and a little sore, but she was sure the damage would have been much worse had Eppie not worked her magic with her concoction.
    Madeline forced herself to take a long, leisurely bath. Eppie had to help her rinse her hair. It was so thick and long it was nearly impossible to get all the soap out alone.
    After her hair was squeaky clean, she laid back in the bath and daydreamed of Teague. Her body grew heated even as the water cooled. She felt like she was teasing herself by waiting. The anticipation was building like steam in a pressure cooker.
    When she stepped out of the bath, she dried herself slowly, rubbing the towel over and over her skin. By the time she was dry, she was wet between her legs, and her nipples seemed permanently erect.
    She slipped on a white cotton nightgown with short sleeves and a lacy collar Eppie had made. Sitting on the stool next to the tub, she used the towel to dry her hair as much as she could. Then she took the brush and ran it through her hair.
    â€œCan I do that?”
    Teague should have surprised her, but he didn’t. It was as though she was expecting him to come into the bathing room. Wanting him there.
    â€œYes,” she answered a bit breathily.
    He stepped up behind her, and she felt his body heat meld with hers. She held up the silver-backed brush that had been a gift from her mother when she turned eight. His thumb touched her hand as he took the brush; the calluses sent a bolt of heat up her arm straight to her breasts. Her nipples almost shivered with longing.
    God how she wanted Teague to touch her.
    His big hand gently touched her head. She closed her eyes as the brush slowly slid from the top of her head to her behind.
    â€œYou have beautiful hair. Like a dark waterfall.”
    Teague stroked her hair again and again. Each stroke built on the last. Like a symphony of music playing