Forbidden by Susan Johnson (good books to read for teens .TXT) 📕

to have his meaning transferred properly to Daisy's psyche. "Don't you always. Why didn't you consider a bed at Clara's or Bea's or Lily's if Nadine wasn't to your liking. I'm sure they would have been ecstatic to have you as a guest."

"I haven't slept with a woman since you left me." He hadn't intended to say that, a private person by nature, unsure too of Daisy's involvement with other men or her uninvolvement with him. But he was weary suddenly of her accusations when he'd overturned his entire life for her.

"There you are. Good morning," Blaze said, coming toward them with a smile, Hazard at her side. "We didn't know if you'd left yet for Jolie's."

No other women? Daisy thought.

The shock of Hazard and Blaze's appearance showed for a moment in the Duc's face before he recovered. "I just stopped by for coffee. I'll be off soon."

"Did you sleep well?" Hazard politely inquired, putting out his hand in greeting as he came up to Etienne.

"Well, but not long enough," Etienne replied with a smile, taking Hazard's hand in a strong grip.

No other women? Could she believe it?

"You look hungry," Blaze said to Daisy, her gaze on the plate in her hands.

"Yes." And a hunger of another sort glided through her mind.

"Sit down," Blaze suggested. "I'll bring you some coffee. Sugar this morning?" she inquired when Daisy didn't seem to respond.

"Yes, sugar," Daisy absently replied before moving toward the table, not entirely certain her senses would remain obedient to the dictates of her mind.

The smaller of two tables in the fifty-foot-long dining room had been set for breakfast, a pristine white tablecloth with heavy lace borders stark contrast to the scarlet brocade Jacobean chairs placed at each of the fourteen place settings. Three large bouquets of summer flowers were centered on the table like a fountain of color, their golden tones bright as the sun pouring through the sheer lace panels on the windows.

Hazard and Daisy ate while Blaze drank cafe au lait and Etienne sipped on the heavily sweetened coffee he preferred. Hazard was dressed casually like the Duc, intending to go over to the polo club later and help the grooms take his ponies out for their morning warm-up. "Will you be coming over to the club later?" Hazard inquired, cutting his ham, the ornate gold flatware dwarfed by his large hands.

"Not if I can help it," Etienne replied with a grin. "I'm still recuperating. Although I should put Bradley's electrical machine on these fingers for a few hours."

"That works?" Hazard looked skeptical, his fork poised before his mouth.

"It does. Last year Collin recommended it at Hurlingham after I'd sprained my wrist rather badly. Without the treatment I wouldn't have been able to play the next day."

"What do you think, Daisy?" Blaze asked. "Maybe we should bring a machine back to Montana."

"Why not," she tersely replied, awkward and uncomfortable sitting at the breakfast table with her parents and Etienne, her precarious poise threatening to crumble. Not only frustrated her father had interfered, inviting Etienne over as if she were a child who didn't know her own mind, she was haunted by the markedly significant words—no other women—repeating like hammer blows in her brain.

If it were true—and she wasn't naively accepting that possibility, the enormity of Etienne's commitment was staggering. Those three words obliterated the potential fawning women, they rectified Isabelle's list as irrelevant, they meant change was not only possible but a fact. She trembled.

"Are you chilled?" Blaze asked, her gaze intent.

"No… maybe just a touch," she amended, aware Etienne's eyes were on her.

"Take a jacket with you when you go then." Blaze noted Daisy was dressed in her habitual attire for riding. "Although it should warm up soon."

"I certainly hope so," the Duc said, his voice infused with a sudden quiet.

And Daisy's dark eyes lifted to his for a dramatic moment while a sudden hush settled over the table.

Their attraction was palpable. Blaze flushed at the sudden public display. Hazard stopped chewing for a moment, his gaze thoughtful.

The Duc composed himself first. Glancing at his watch, he said, "I should go. Hector hasn't any patience." He smiled. "Thank you for the hospitality." Pushing his chair back, he rose.

"I'll see you at the club," Hazard said.

"Give our best to your daughter's family," Blaze politely added.

"Kiss Hector for me," Daisy said. "Tell him I've missed him." She tried to speak in a calm voice, the sight of Etienne over breakfast reminiscent of a passion and contentment she'd been attempting to obliterate from her memory for weeks. But the tidal wave of emotion was too overwhelming, her feelings powerfully affected, unmindful any longer of pragmatic restraint.

"Hector named one of his new kittens for you, he told me. So you have a namesake now. A calico, I think." Etienne had to speak of trivialities or he'd jump over the table, lift her out of her chair and kiss her, parents or not. "Au revoir," he quickly said and walked away.

"The Duc seems very nice," Blaze said. "I hope you didn't damage his fingers too badly, dear," she added to Hazard in mild reproach. "Sometimes your temper is—"

"I'm sorry. I told him that. He knows." Hazard grinned. "He was holding his own, so you needn't worry. I've the bruises to prove it."

"I can see why you… like him, Daisy," Blaze declared. "He's very charming."

"I don't know if I like him." She hadn't been able to eat a tenth of what she'd taken, her stomach filled with butterflies, reminded of so many past mornings when they'd shared breakfast.

"He asked my permission to court you," Hazard said, his voice carefully modulated, his gaze fixed on his daughter who was destroying a kipper with the tines of her fork… not certain whether he was making a mistake telling her.

She dropped her fork as if suddenly burned. "Permission!" Her eyes so similar to his bore into him. "Am I an ingenue? He asked your permission? He shouldn't have. He doesn't have any right. You don't have