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

near Hazard's galloping mount, his mallet sweeping the grass, his body half out of the saddle, stretching for the ball sitting directly in line with the goal. Hazard shifted his mallet to his fingertips, his reach exceeding Etienne's by a scant breathless half-inch, and he sent the ball clear.

His damn pony was oversize, Etienne fumed, that extra advantage giving Daisy's father that hairsbreadth more he'd needed to reach the ball. With his eye on the ball sailing out of range, Etienne wrenched his mount into a speeding, dangerous forehand turn, pursuing Hazard. Galloping close on his near quarter, Etienne shouted over the uproarious cries of the spectators, "Your pony's bigger than fifteen hands, dammit!"

"It measures fifteen hands," Hazard returned with a grin, knowing his Indian pony measured smaller with the right preparation, preferring a bigger mount than those currently prescribed.

"Like hell!"

"Lose out on that last strike?" Hazard's long hair was flying in the wind, his smile smug, taking satisfaction in thwarting the man who'd made his daughter so unhappy.

Etienne's answer blistered the air.

The game took on a serious edge after that, a hard-riding, high, wide, and handsome game of grim competition, Trey and Henri battling at first, their teammates playing as fiercely. At the end of the third heated fifteen-minute period, the teams were even. Then in the final chukker, the weariness of both ponies and men began to show. The mounts were lathered, their speed slowed, a stumbling gait evident on the speed turns. Fatigue was equally apparent on the tight-lipped players. The sun slipped low in the sky as they fought up and down the shadowy long field with never a foul or safety to change the score. The sun set, twilight shadows appeared, the light dimmed as dark crept in, but they played on until at last only night itself put an end to the game.

"We'll see you at the play-off," Hazard growled at the Duc, every muscle in his body aching after the savagely contested game, his breath coming in short hard gasps.

"Fuck you," the Duc muttered, nursing the two fingers he'd sprained when Hazard's mallet hooked his—intentionally, he was sure. Damn, they hurt; they'd already swollen twice their size.

"I don't think so," Hazard said, drawing air into his aching lungs. "But then I'm harder to fuck than most. Keep it in mind." He turned his pony, then, without using his reins, the merest pressure of one foot signal for his paint to move. And he rode off toward Trey who was conferring with the officials.

As Etienne rode away with his teammate Fallon, the French team's hostess, Nadine Belmont, waved them over to her carriage. A society hostess of note, she'd offered her recently built eleven-million-dollar "cottage" at Newport as guest quarters for the team, and with the Duc de Vec's arrival, she found added interest in pursuing warm French-American relations.

The sky was the lilac-gray of evening, the mist from the ocean beginning to cool the air as they cantered slowly across the playing field. So many carriages still rimmed the perimeter of the turf—few spectators indifferent to the excitement of the fiercely fought match—the Duc wouldn't have noticed Daisy in the press of the crowd had Fallon not stopped to visit with Empress at their calash.

"Etienne, you remember Empress," Fallon said, turning slightly in his saddle to include the Duc in the conversation. "We grew up together. She could outride me in those days."

"He doesn't say we were eight then," Empress re-turned with a charming smile, looking elegant in maize georgette and a flower-bedecked straw hat, "and Papa had put me on a pony when I was two. You looked very skilled out there today, David." And moving her gaze to the Duc, Empress said, "How are you Etienne?"

"Tired and slightly maimed," he said with a small smile, holding up his swollen hand. "How are you?" His query lapsed into an inattentive courtesy as he suddenly noticed Daisy seated slightly behind her sister-in-law and a flood of acute and conflicting feelings bombarded his mind. Surprise dominated, although he should have suspected she'd be here, watching her father and brother play—she'd watched him often enough.

"I'm well," Empress said. The Duc's eyes were on Daisy, dressed with utter simplicity in white linen, a plain boater tipped gracefully over one eye. "Have you met my mother-in-law, Mrs. Braddock-Black?"

Fallon nudged him. "I don't know whether we've actually ever met," Etienne quickly replied, his eyes swiveling to Blaze seated across from Daisy, "although I've seen you several times at Esme's." He smiled in apology for his preoccupation, and introductions were exchanged between the men and Blaze, between Fallon and Daisy. "You know each other, don't you?" Empress casually went on when it was Daisy's turn to be introduced to the Duc.

"Good evening, Miss Black," the Duc said, circumspect and precise, as if they had been no more than incidental friends, aware all parties to the conversation were watching them. "I thought you'd be in Montana."

"I didn't know you were with the team."

Their statements were spontaneous, unguarded, their critical thoughts impossible to contain, both too conscious of what had passed between them, too expectant, too taut with a riveting, familiar heat.

How large he looked and seductive in his white polo jersey and twill jodhpurs, his hair damp with sweat, and curling.

"I wasn't officially until this morning," he carefully said, training his voice to an emotionless tone. "My decision to come was belated." And had he known she was in Newport, would he have chosen otherwise?

"Damn lucky for us you arrived," Fallon interrupted. "Centrelle and Daudet couldn't sit a pony any longer."

Two carriages down, their impatient hostess was signaling them, the silver and rose streamers on her large-brimmed hat trailing back and forth as she gestured with it, beckoning energetically. Her voice carried across the mauve twilight, unquiet and irrepressible.

"Etienne, darling, do hurry! Etienne! Eti-ennnne!"

"Excuse me," the Duc quietly said, beginning to gather his reins.

"Will you be at Nadine's tonight?" Fallon quickly asked the carriage at large, preparing