Victor's condition continued to deteriorate at an alarming rate, as the days that followed Julia's return were filled with compact lessons on horses and feed. He kept his promise to her, however, devoting his mornings to teaching her everything he could in the time he was given. They went over basic horse breeding - or horse sense, as her father liked to call it - customer lists, invoices and grooming techniques, feed storage, and even shoeing.

Everything was brief yet condensed enough for her to get the jest of it, leaving Julia to carry around a ledger in order to keep track of all her father crammed into her brain. She was amazed that she never learned any of this when she was growing up. She spent her entire life on this ranch and had no idea the depth of detail that went into each and every aspect of a horse’s life.

It was on one such day after Victor became too weary to continue with her studies and retired to his room, that Julia decided to take her pent-up emotions out on the familiar fields where she used to ride as a child. She ordered Paddy, the Irish immigrant who worked in the stables, to saddle her chestnut mare, Biscuit. She rode out to the open pasture, urging Biscuit into a hard run. The wind whipped her long dark hair loose from its silk restraint, allowing it to fly wildly behind her. The sun shone on her creamy complexion, burning her cheeks a delicate pink. She laughed aloud, riding as though the world no longer existed, feeling the freedom she could only experience on Biscuit's back.

The smell of hay and manure filled her lungs and the sound of birds flying overhead did much in lifting her mood. She felt alive and free for the first time in weeks, no thoughts of death, no worries of trespassers, and no confusion of whether to leave or stay. She was alone and happy and continued to ride until late into the afternoon.

When she returned to the stables shortly before supper, she felt ready for her next lessons with her father. She led Biscuit into her stall and gave her a generous bag of oats, patting her neck as she began to eat. Unable to locate the mare's brush, she bent and gathered a handful of clean straw to rub the horse’s coat down with. Her hand had just clutched a fistful of the sweet-smelling hay when she developed an odd awareness of being watched. She glanced behind her and noticed the man staring at her with a strange smile on his tanned face. Julia straightened to her full height of five feet, five inches, and tried to look dignified - especially considering she had only moments before offered the man full sight of her rear end.

He was very handsome, more than six feet tall with straight blondish-brown hair held back in a leather restraint at the nape of his neck, his skin was deeply tanned, which told her he spent a great deal of time outdoors. If it weren’t for his expensive dark blue suit and waistcoat and crisp white shirt, she’d have assumed he was one of the stable hands. His hands were folded across a rather large chest and he leaned leisurely against the post of the stall, watching the woman’s every move.

Julia felt a heat radiate from the man's eyes, even before she saw the deep, rich turquoise of their shining splendor. So odd the combination, it took her by surprise and she found herself breathless as she tried to pull herself under control.

As intent, as she had been with her inspection, the experience was shared equally by Daniel's own examination. The woman in front of him couldn't possibly be Julia Turner. She was nothing of what he had mentally envisioned. She was far too young to assume the position her father was placing her in and far too delicate. He guessed the woman to be no more than twenty-two or twenty-three, although he'd never actually asked Julia Turner's age before. She was very beautiful and much slimmer than he had pictured, as well as being very well endowed. She had the sort of body every man secretly dreamed of possessing.

Her long dark hair hung loosely across her shoulders and down her back, to settle at her waist in a disarray of tangled ringlets. She wore a red velvet riding habit and her hands were void of the gloves she had moments before tucked inside the waistband of her breeches. She displayed the perfect picture of the pampered Princess he had heard about, rather than a horse breeder's daughter.

Daniel walked toward her with a smooth, calm step so intentional it sent chills of anticipation running along Julia's spine. She noticed his finely chiseled features as he approached. His sculptured straight nose and firm jawline, his deep-set turquoise eyes and his full kissable lips were a silent invitation, beckoning to her. She shook herself hard, she didn't even know who this man was and already she was beginning to imagine what it would be like to kiss him. For all she knew, he could have been Billy the Kid, himself. In a three-piece suit, her subconscious asked?

"You have an excellent way with horses," Daniel stated seductively, his tone deep and rich like warm chocolate pouring over ice cream, soothing and stimulating her at the same time. His accent was slightly less noticeable as it had been when he first arrived in America, though it was there and unmistakable.

"I have little trouble with anything other than the saddle," Julia replied, surprised at how calm and even her voice sounded. "I've been told my form is top rank though."

"I couldn't agree more. I noticed your form immediately," he said with a lopsided grin, and then added softly, "You're not a bad equestrian, either."

Julia's delicate face turned a deep maroon as she stepped past him, brushing his arm slightly on her way. She felt a bolt of electricity shoot through her and found herself fighting the urge to touch him again - just to see if the shock had been real, she assured herself.

"If your wit were as sharp as your tongue, you'd be in possession of a very deadly weapon," she snarled, forcing herself to sound irritated as she turned her attention back to her horse.

"I apologize, Miss…” he paused, hoping she was anyone besides Julia Turner.

“Turner,” she assured him with an arrogant tilt to her chin. “My father owns this land.”

He wasn’t sure if he was shocked or aroused, he would be spending a great deal of time with this young woman in the next few weeks and was suddenly thrilled at the prospect.

“Well, Miss Turner, as I was saying, I'm quite certain I'm not the first man to admire your beauty."

"You seem to have me at a disadvantage, sir," she informed him as she tossed the hay to the floor of the stall, desperately trying to ignore his unnerving comments. "You know who I am, but you've yet to introduce yourself."

"My apologies again, Little Princess," he bowed slightly, the ponytail he had tied behind him fell to the front of his neck. "I am Daniel Browning, your father's legal advisor."

"Ah yes, my father told me you'd be stopping by today. It must have slipped my mind, but then most trivial things usually do." She inspected him from head to toe as though it were the first time she had done so. "You're much younger than I expected, Mr. Browning. Aren't lawyers supposed to be sixty and bald?"

"You're not quite what I expected, either," he replied in turn, inspecting her with a wicked gleam in his turquoise eyes. He wasn’t about to let her off with that kind of remark and not have a little fun in return.

"I thought all nannies were old and scrawny with warts on their chins. I'm not sure of the age, but I am sure you're far from being scrawny and I see no warts."

"You’re thinking of witches and I'm twenty-two, not that it’s any of your business. But you are quite right, I'm not scrawny, nor am I a nanny. I've merely been helping my aunt and uncle by taking care of their children. Or at least I used to," she added, quickly evaluating her present circumstances.

"My apologies yet again," he said with another half bow.

Julia was certain he was mocking her, yet he was so handsome she couldn't seem to find the right words to put him down as she walked around him.

The blue eyes bore warm sensual holes into her, forcing her to quicken her retreat out of the stables. She stopped the young stable boy near the entrance of the barn and instructed him to finish Biscuit’s rubdown, then headed toward the house, Daniel in her stead.

"Perhaps you could teach me how to ride, sometime? I'm not very good," he lied, feeling a sudden tightening in his breeches as he easily caught up to her, walking beside her on the path. "In exchange for the lessons, I'll be happy to teach you a thing or two."

"There is nothing you can teach me Mr. Browning, which I care to learn. Besides, I thought you were here at my father's request? Shouldn't you be advising him or something?"

"Your father is resting, so your mother suggested I come out here and introduce myself. We will be working very closely together, for a while at least, and the name is Daniel. Mr. Browning sounds too formal for my taste."

"Well, Mr. Browning, I don't need any advice and I don't need you to teach me anything. I have no intention of staying around here beyond October. By then my younger brother will be able to assume the duties of the stables and I will return to Boston, hopefully in time to salvage the remains of my social life." She walked through the back door and into the spacious kitchen beyond with Daniel nipping at her heels like a faithful puppy.

"I wouldn't be so quick in assuming Jeremy's going to want your father's business. Victor has, after all, asked you to step in for him. Your brother may feel left out."

Julia stopped and rounded on him, hands on her hips as she stared into the blue eyes that seemed to be laughing at her. "It's obvious you've never met Jeremy. Otherwise, you would know he's not the sort of person to hold grudges, and I would thank you to stay out of my family affairs, Mr. Browning. Your position here is professional, not personal."

"Quick-tempered," he commented, unaffected by her sudden mood swing from indifference to complete irritation all within the span of ten seconds. "Your father warned me you had a hothead. Temper quick as a whip and bite as deadly as a scorpion, I believe he said. Now I see what he meant. Your father attributes your mother's Italian blood as the culprit, yet your mother insists your father's Irish heritage is to blame. What do you think causes it?"

"How about nosy lawyers?" she snapped softly, smiling so sweet it was almost nauseating. "Tell me, Mr. Browning, what nationality flows through your veins? I detect the accent, though I am not very versed on such a disability." 'That should put him in his place', she thought with a smug smile.

"I am from England, though many women find my accent attractive, even erotic.” He laughed when her expression turned a shade of pink, choosing to ignore it.

“My mother was also Italian and my father British. I suppose that's why I like lasagna and crumpets so much."

"I'm hot and sweaty," she snorted, passing off the seductive wink he supplied her with as she turned her back to him. "If you'll excuse me, I'm in need of a cool bath," or a very cold one, she added silently. "I'm sure Mrs. Lester can scrounge you up some spaghetti and snails, or whatever it is you people eat." She glanced over at the elderly woman, whose rough stocky exterior gave no hint to her truly gentle nature.

"I'm not much on insects and I thought spaghetti was a Chinese invention not Italian?" His wink at Mrs. Lester made the older woman chuckle.

She quickly cleared her throat to hide her amusement and continued with preparing the evening meal.

"As for your bath, Little Princess," he called after her as Julia walked down the hall to the back stairs. "I'm an excellent back scrubber and I come with references."

"I have no doubt of that, but I'd rather bathe with lye. I think it's a bit safer." Julia smiled to herself, climbing the stairs to the top floor.

Daniel remained in the kitchen, his hearty full laughter lingered with her as she closed her bedroom door. She had to admit, the man was very handsome and extraordinarily sexy, even if he was forward and irritating. Two factors she often found undesirable and avoided at all costs. She had no time to get involved with anybody let alone her father's lawyer, she told herself, though the thought of his hands massaging her body brought prickles of anticipation traveling down her spine. She was not planning on being in Kentucky long enough to start a courtship with a man, but the temptation was intriguing.

Daniel stayed on through supper, retiring to the library at Victor's request for coffee and dessert. He and Julia remained quiet as they sat opposite each other in chairs beside the veranda, listening as Victor and Louise discussed the arrangements for his funeral and how Louise would conduct her life, once it was all over. They laughed about all the old boyfriends she would run into when she visited the east coast on her way to see her cousins in Europe, and how long she would have to wait until she remarried.

Although Daniel knew it was merely a cover-up, a way of hiding their grief and true feelings, he could see in Julia's face, the pain, and confusion over her parents’ reaction. He watched her for several long minutes, hoping for a break in the conversation so he could change the subject and involve the woman in a more natural subject. When that didn't happen, he was forced to remain silent and watch, like an outsider spying through the curtains on an unsuspecting scene.

Julia's head ached from the conversation and she found her parents' laughter callous and barbaric. As the conversation continued she discovered her temper slipping and was forced to seek out the privacy of the warm evening in an attempt to retain her sanity. She stepped through the large glass doors and out to the shaded porch beyond. The air was humid, and the sky was clear with a temperature that seemed almost unbearable, but it wasn't enough to force Julia back inside. She inhaled the heated breeze, finding seclusion in a corner far enough away from the open doors so the laughter from inside couldn't be heard.

She sat in a small settee, unbinding her hair from the braid she usually wore and shaking it loose. She removed her slippers and raised her feet to the small table in front of her. Her skirts rose slightly, revealing her slender ankles and calves as she adjusted her position and laid her head back against the cushions. She closed her eyes against the painful thoughts that had been ravaging her soul since she returned to Kentucky and tried desperately to clear her mind.

Visions erupted all around her, death, pain, loneliness, compelling her to think of something else, anything except reality. She closed her eyes tighter, recalling the images of her life in Boston, beckoning them to dance behind her closed lids. She smiled as she thought of her extraordinary, lively existence waiting for her back in New England.

Her life with her mother's youngest sister and brother-in-law was far from conventional. She had a lavish room, an extravagant allowance for caring for their three children, and freedom to shop and lunch with her friends as often as she wished. She met many new and interesting people since her uncle was the Mayor of Boston, and entertaining was upmost on her own list of priorities. She loved to dance and flirting with all the young men was a favorite pastime. She had many suitors, though none were the type that stole her breath as she had always dreamed. She and Heather would sit and talk for hours about the lovers they planned on having. Romantic, chivalrous, passionate, and endearing. What more could a woman want?

The smile that crossed over her delicate features was honest and unrestrained as she thought of how easily she fit in with the lifestyle of Boston. Nobody knew she had come from a horse farm in Kentucky. Although her father's stables were anything but common, she still felt simple and plain. She hated anyone to know she lived on a farm with horses, it made her feel so mediocre.

Julia's smile was soon replaced, much like her present circumstances, by a shadow of reality. She thought of how distressing her life at present was, and what it was that chased her from Kentucky in the first place. If it hadn’t been for Heather’s death, she may never have left here five years ago, but it was because of that horrible day that she decided to leave and never look back. As a result, she found a life she enjoyed and a world different from where she started out.

Still, she knew she would have to face the fact she may never again leave Mayfield or her father's legacy. She was here to stay and sooner or later she would have to come to terms with her destiny. She thought of how she would have to write to Lena and Rupert and tell them she would never be coming back. She would have to tell her little cousins goodbye and pray they wouldn't forget her too quickly. Then there were her friends to consider. How was she to tell them she was forced to stay on her family ranch and pretend to know what she was doing, when most of them didn’t even know she was from a farm, to begin with?

Daniel had seen the expression on Julia's face when she left the room. It was one of anguish and disapproval. As soon as he thought it was safe - for reasons of protocol - he followed her out to the veranda where he found her resting in the small settee. She looked intriguing, with her bare feet and lower legs perched high on the table in front of her. Her long hair hung loosely from its restraints and circled about her shoulders and across the arm of the chair, falling to rest on the floor of the covered structure.

She wore a bright green cotton dress, with small white flowers across the tight bodice, hugging her exquisite torso. Daniel's eyes narrowed wickedly as he thought of the firm mounds of flesh, lying just beyond sight and the many hours he would love to spend exploring them. His mind imagined Julia exposed to his examination and responsive to his unique sexual skills. He could envision her tethered to his bed, moaning her deep climax as he played with her body before taking her, hard and fast.

The smile that crossed her full lips caused the man to shift his stance with embarrassment and adjust the material across his growing erection. He was certain if she opened her eyes just then, she would be able to read his mind. He couldn’t help but wonder, would she be receptive to his suggestions or reject his advances completely, if he were to offer to help her find a way to control her emotions over all that was happening around her.

He stood there admiring her in silence, enjoying her beauty and the stubborn tilt of her dark head when the smile dissolved into a frown. The confusion and fear etched across her delicate face and her breathing changed slightly to one of labored effort, making her chest rise and fall. He didn’t know what she was thinking, but it was enough that Daniel was anxious to go to her, to ease the painful thoughts, to caress the frown from her forehead and kiss a smile back on her full angelic lips, but he knew she would consider his actions an intrusion. With a great deal of restraint, he cleared his throat bringing the young woman's attention to his presence. Her eyes widened, filling with suspicion, yet he smiled tenderly at her.

"Am I disturbing you?" he asked, walking to the chair opposite the beautiful brunette and turning it around to sit backward on it.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Browning?" she squirmed her way to a proper sitting position, pulling her legs down from the table.

"Well for start, you can stop calling me Mr. Browning. It sounds strange coming from you. My name is Daniel, remember?"

"I know what it is, I just don't care to know you well enough to use it."

"You are a determined young woman, aren't you, Little Princess? Well no matter, I have complete confidence you will call me by my name, eventually."

"What makes you so certain?"

"I've made it my goal for you to want to know me well enough to feel comfortable with the intimacy that goes along with first names."

"Then you're bound to be disappointed, Mr. Browning."

"That may be, Miss Turner, but let's just wait and see, it would prove a great sport, don’t you agree?"

Silence fell between the two when Louise joined them, bringing an end to their conversation. She looked tired and worn out, her shoulders hunched over as though she had been carrying around the burden of the world for many long years. She sat down next to Julia on the settee with a sigh of exhaustion, smiling to her daughter wearily as she patted her hand.

"Your father finally retired to his room. How are you holding up, dear?" The concern was genuine, but Julia chose to ignore it and turned her emerald eyes on the older woman, narrowing her stare slightly.

"Fine, though not as well as you and Father, as it would seem."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Her mother's brows drew down across her eyes, in a deep frown.

"How can you tell Father you're going to start seeing other men, once he's dead? Have you no consideration for the feelings of the man you’ve spent more than half your adult life with? I can't believe you could be so heartless."

Julia's anger raged inside her forcing Daniel to stand up, retreating to the stone enclosure of the veranda wall. He had never witnessed a catfight between humans before, but the expression on the two women's faces made him think he was about to get his first lesson on the subject.

"How dare you speak to me, like that?" Louise's temper, quickly matched that of her daughter's and she watched Julia stand and pace her way to the table. "What do you know about love, or loyalty, tell me that? You've never known anything beyond flirting and teasing. You've never felt any real emotion for another person or offered any form of commitment to anyone other than yourself."

"We're not discussing my relationships, Mother."

"What relationships? You've never been with a man long enough to have a relationship. My only crime is that I love your father enough to allow him to think I'll survive once he's gone." Louise's voice broke, her hands shook with her sorrow and pain, her legs felt weak as a baby as she tried to stand on them. "If you had ever stopped your frivolous antics long enough to fall in love, perhaps you would understand the commitment and sacrifice that goes with loving another person. It is important that the man you love believes that you will survive even if your heart and soul is being ripped apart with each second that passes by."

The tears ran unchecked down the older woman's cheeks as she hurried back inside, forcing her shaky legs to move beneath her.

The silence that fell around the veranda was so thick it felt stifling. Daniel remained by the small stone wall that surrounded the patio, watching the emotion pull at the beautiful young woman’s face. Her breathing was more labored than it had been a short time ago when she reclined in the settee.

He knew the tension involved was more from the weeks of pent up emotions that suddenly exploded to the surface, and not so much out of anger. He felt sorry for both women, but at that moment he sympathized with the older of the two. Where Louise had spent many long months watching her husband deteriorate before her very eyes, struggling to keep a sense of calm and normalcy flowing through every hour, Julia was fighting the grief that screamed within her for revenge. She didn’t want to lose her father and she didn’t want to think that life was changing so quickly and not in a good way.

Daniel kept his gaze steady as he watched the torment flood across the young woman’s face. Fear, anguish, regret, all creased her brow deeply and pulled at the corners of her mouth, making her appear more frightened than anyone he had ever seen before. It took all the strength he had to fight going to her, pulling her into his strong embrace. She felt alone in all of this while she tried to absorb and comprehend what was happening around, her and right now, there was nobody willing to stand up for her.

Julia glanced toward the man who remained so still and quiet he could have been a part of the wall he leaned against. He was quite handsome, and he stared at her with an expression of curious concern and something else she didn’t recognize. If he had been one of the many young men she knew in Boston, she would have assumed he found her attractive, yet that could not possibly be the truth. He was her father’s attorney, though young and very handsome, they were from two different worlds. He had nothing to gain by finding her attractive.

The men back home claimed to appreciate her for her wit, her charm, and her beauty, though she was certain they were more eager to be associated with the mayor’s family. A rich and successful businessman in his own right, her uncle had a great deal of clout and support to offer a man who became her husband. The idea of marrying anyone was out of the question and she was certain by the look in the man’s eye, marriage was the last thing on his mind.

With a heavy sigh, she straightened up to her full height and squared her shoulders. She may be acting like a spoiled brat at the moment, but she was still the one in charge. He was, after all, a paid employee of the family’s.

"Before you say a word, Mr. Browning...don't," she snapped, turning her eyes away from his critical inspection. "I’m sorry you saw that. I know I shouldn't have spoken to her like that. Honor thy mother and thy father and all that sort of rubbish, but damn it she made me mad."

Julia stomped her foot when she finished speaking, an act that allowed a small degree of physical release of the emotions raking her delicate body.

"Somehow, I don't think making you angry is very hard to do," he told her softly.

"Are you going to say it’s perfectly acceptable for the way they were acting in there?” She waved her hand toward the house where her parents had sat a few minutes earlier, laughing and joking about the future. “I think it’s morbid to plan a new relationship with your terminally ill husband, telling him everything she was going to do once he was buried. Was she planning on at least allowing the dirt to settle over his grave before running off to find another lover?”

Daniel smiled at her with a half-grin as his eyes roamed over her slender frame. She had no idea what he was thinking but could only assume it was less than complimentary. He was not like the other men she had always known, she could always read the others like a book and knew exactly what was on their minds, perverted or promising.

“It's always hard to see grief in other people, Little Princess, especially when it feels as though you're the only one suffering. Everyone deals with emotions in their own way. Your mother has struggled a very long time with these feelings of grief and hopelessness. She’s become quite good at hiding them from people."

"Thank you very much, Mr. Know-it-all, and just how many parents have you buried?"

"Only my father," he said with an unnerving calm.

Julia felt strangely affected by it and suddenly regretful for her senseless outburst. "I'm sorry, Daniel. I didn't know."

"There's no way you could have," he said as he continued to stare at her. "It wasn't anything like this, though, we didn't know my father was going to die. He was jumped by bandits on his way through the highlands and shot when he refused to surrender his purse. He was found on the side of the road by some local farmers who knew the family and brought him home. Fever took him, and he slipped into a coma, he never woke up. He died a few days later."

For some unexplainable reason, he felt the distance between them unbearable, forcing him to retreat his stance by the veranda wall. He walked cautiously to her side and knelt beside the settee as she sat again. He gently slid the long tresses of dark hair through his fingers, feeling the satin smoothness against his skin. He lifted it to his nose and smelled the fresh aroma of her shampoo.

Julia had no choice but to watch his actions with bated breath, it was erotic and sensuous. She had never felt like this with any man, there was an unnamed need beginning to build within the pit of her stomach as her heart skipped a beat.

"Your mother is dealing with her grief, the best way she knows how," he whispered to her a few moments later, his tone deep and intimate. "She's doing what she believes your father wants. She's trying hard to be strong, Princess. You can't blame her for that."

"I can't condone the way she's acting, either," she answered in a soft tone that shook slightly, though not from grief or fear, but from what his close presence to her was causing her to feel.

"Think about it from her perspective. The man you've loved for nearly thirty years is taken away from you. You’ve stood by and watched him deteriorate over months of agonizing torment. You're forced to face the rest of your life alone, no one there to talk to, to discuss subjects only the two of you can relate to. Your life is empty, your bed is empty. Your future lies stretched ahead of you, while your life is buried six feet beneath the earth. How would that make you feel?"

Julia frowned at the logic and wisdom he forced her to face. "I suppose I'd be pretty depressed," she admitted quietly.

Daniel eased her hand between his two large brown ones, enveloping her long fingers in a warmth that sent shock waves coursing through her limbs to settle in her breast. His fingers slowly began caressing her wrist and she felt like she could no longer breathe, rational thought void from her mind as she stared at him, unable and unwilling to look away.

"You're far too intelligent to allow this to come between you and your mother."

Julia nodded slowly and tried to stand on legs that felt like limp noodles.

"I need to speak with her," she told him softly, surprised that she was able to find the words to express her subconscious thoughts while her mind was reeling around his closeness to her.

"Not so fast, Little Princess."

He captured her securely yet gently pulling her against the strong wall of his chest. She inhaled sharply, seeing the passion tint his eyes, turning them a dark blue. Her hands braced on his shoulders, whether for support or acceptance, she wasn’t quite certain.

Daniel’s mind was shouting at him to keep a respectable distance, while his heart was begging him to continue. He had wanted her in his arms since he first saw her in the stables, his arms ached for her, his lips pleaded with him to taste her sweetness.

It wasn’t until he looked into her warm emerald eyes that he forgot about logic. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, young and innocent, desirable and sexy. No man would be able to withstand her charms for long, and he was far from an ordinary man. He knew of many ways to make her accept him and beg him to take her to bed. But as she placed her hands on his shoulders, he realized just how innocent she was. She touched him as though it were her first time doing so.

Julia could feel his heart beating against her breast as she pressed against his chest. His warmth was intoxicating and the seductive glint in his turquoise eyes, made her pulse quicken. She felt as though her body was suddenly engulfed in sunshine, warmth spreading to every recess of her soul.

"I don't understand," she whispered, and he chuckled lightly, kissing first her forehead and then her cheek, slowly caressing the soft flesh below her ear.

The touch of his lips against her skin sent chills of anticipation through her, the lower regions of her body waking to the stirring of sensations. It was a feeling she had never experienced, and even though she was wary of it, she wanted to feel more. She found the reserve strength she'd been harboring over the past several weeks deserting her, melting against the passion that burned between them.

"I have to know what you taste like, Princess," he whispered.

His hand mindlessly moved between them, softly massaging her firm breast through the soft cotton of her dress, teasing the hard nipple that poked out from beneath the layers of fabric. Julia felt a soft moan burning in her chest, escaping her throat as his tongue bathed a hot path down her throat to her collarbone. Just when she would have pushed him away, she felt the hardened reality of the man's desire, press against her thigh.

"You do not play fair, Little Princess," he whispered against her lips, his accent thick with passion. "You said my name when I wasn’t expecting it.” He gently brushed his lips against hers as he spoke. “I promise, one day I will show you how deeply that teasing affects me."

His lips pressed down on hers, hard and demanding yet filled with the heat of his promise. The tip of his tongue traced the outline of her bottom lip then sucked it between his teeth, biting it gently until she moaned. Her audible gasp encouraged the teasing of his searching tongue as he explored the dark cavern of her mouth. It felt wrong, and yet so erotic and intoxicating that she hoped he never stopped, but just as abruptly as he had embraced her, he released her. With a deep groan filled with regret, he turned and left without offering her a second glance.

Julia collapsed back on the settee in stunned silence. The heat of the evening breeze did nothing to help relieve the molten lava flowing within her veins. She felt alive and sadly alone in the same instant, the warmth he offered her was gone and she was left with only a deep desire to occupy the space between her chest and her heart. She had never felt like this with any man before, she wanted more, she wanted him to explore the strange stirrings burning to life within the dark recesses of the hidden, most private parts of her body.

Her breath slowly began to seep back into her gasping lungs as her hands twisted together anxiously in her lap. The thought of Daniel’s male vigor, his sensual prowess, caused a chill of apprehension and longing to run down her spine. An unnerving sensation began to replace the warmth that was spreading through her limbs. What if he meant what he said? What if he didn’t? Could she find the strength to resist him? But then again, did she really want to, and would she be able to resist him if he were to approach her again?

Too many questions and too many feelings began to drift through her mind, all demanding her immediate respect and attention. Images and fantasies, she had not had since she and Heather would dream of the future as children, began to emerge inside her mind. Thoughts of acts she had only heard of, actions she wasn’t sure if she was capable of carrying through with, all flooded around her at once. Suddenly, the idea of leaving Kentucky was no longer the first image that came to mind when she thought of the ranch. Putting distance between her and this handsome, seductive man was the last thing she wanted.

The mere consideration of leaving made her chest feel heavy and her eyes fill with unshed tears, though she wasn’t sure why. Daniel Browning was her father’s lawyer, an employee. Even entertaining the notion of being with him was absurd. It would never work out, not in a million years. What would the society gossips say? What would her father say?

a heavy sigh, Julia stood again on very shaky legs, walking quietly into the house. The desire of finding her mother to apologize was no longer conscience, as she made her way to her pink room. Closing the door tightly, she lay in the middle of the lace surrounding her bed and closed her eyes. She could still feel the pressure of his lips against hers, even as she pressed a shaky finger to them. Pulling her pillow from beneath her head, Julia pressed it against her face. If only things were different…if only he were not her father’s lawyer.

That night, Victor Turner drew his last breath. He left the world peacefully, with a soft grin curving his thin, aged lips. He had departed this life he built for himself and his family, exactly as he always said he would, with his beloved Louise, lying beside him.