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... pressed on her shoulder. Maximus’ knuckle grazed on her cheek and she wetted her lips.

"I can wash myself," she tried to get the washcloth from his hand.

But his hold on the washcloth tightened and the cloth got squeezed. The water dripping from the cloth was colder than the water in the tub. As the cold water rolled through her porcelain skin, she gulped unable to bear the warmth that started rising in her abdomen.

She bowed her head and watched the flickering candleligh ...

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