The Circle Eight: Nicholas by Emma Lang Page A

find her.” Her voice was rough. She didn’t sound like herself.
    “I know that. I appreciate you telling me about Grace. More than I can tell you.” He squeezed her fingers. “You’ve given me something I’d lost. I want to do the same for you.”
    She might embarrass herself by vomiting. Winnie got to her knees and extracted her hands from his. She turned away and leaned forward until her forehead touched the cool grass. Winnie attempted to suck in a much-needed breath, but instead a sob escaped. A broken sob. Her throat closed.
    A warm hand landed on her back. “I’m sorry, Winnie. I didn’t mean to make you cry. Hell, I never use the right words.”
    She wrapped her arms around her waist and squeezed. He rubbed her shoulder with awkward movements.
    “Forget I said anything. We’ll get to Houston and you can shoot me dead. That ought to make you feel better.”
    She managed to swallow. “I don’t want to shoot you.” To her own ears, her voice was rusty as an old nail.
    “You should. I’m a complete jackass.”
    This time, her mouth twitched at his miserable humor. “I won’t disagree with you.”
    “Hell, I’m worse than a jackass. Olivia would kick me in the balls.”
    His idea was not unknown to her. She had toyed with the notion of finding Grace but it never went beyond a few wispy dreams. She never let it go beyond that. Now Nicholas threw it over her, dousing her like an icy bucket of water.
    “Winnie, I’m sorry. Please say something.” His voice broke and she heard much more than an apology in his voice. She heard desperation and a darker emotion.
    She pulled herself upright and relaxed her hands, ignoring the crescent shape dents and perhaps blood on her palms. He thrust a handkerchief at her, his expression one of pure misery. When she took the cloth from him, she squeezed his hand.
    “I know you meant well.”
    His normal scowl slipped back over his face. “I meant to pay you back for the kindness you’ve shown my sister and her husband.”
    That made her angry. Almost furious. Her face heated with every pulse of ire.
    “Don’t you dare turn this around into something its not. Your gesture has absolutely nothing to do with Vaughn or Elizabeth.” She poked her finger into his broad chest, remembering the slabs of muscle beneath the shirt. He was perfectly made outside if not inside.
    Guilt flashed in his beautiful eyes before he looked away. “I don’t know what you mean.”
    “Don’t you start lying, Nicholas.” She poked him twice for good measure. “You’re doing this for yourself.”
    His gaze snapped back to hers. “For myself?”
    “Yes, you are selfishly hoping I’ll say yes, fall at your feet and you can be a hero. I don’t even want your help, damn it.” She wanted to curse long and hard at him. Her childhood was anything but traditional, including an extensive array of curses and other inappropriate terms. “You will not use me like that.”
    He opened as mouth as though to refute her again.
    “Don’t you dare deny it.”
    He shook his head. “ Winnie, I’m gonna try my best to explain this to you, but sometimes what I feel in my heart or my head is mixed up. My words don’t come out right.”
    She didn’t want to believe him. He had already laid her heart open , filleted like a fish under his knife of helpfulness. What could he possibly say that would make up for poking his nose in her business and causing her such distress?
    He sat back and pulled his knees up, wrapping his arms around his legs. “As a Graham, I spend most of my days trying to keep my distance from my family. They are noisy, pushy, and I don’t get many moments to myself. I pick chores that let me spend as much time as possible away from home.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t see anything beyond breathing in and out. Then I met you.”
    She stared at him, pleased to hear him finally talking but still angry he had chosen to use her secrets to do so. Winnie might not ever forgive