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She wanted to understand
why.

“Can you…can you tell us a bit about
the war, Mr. Burleigh?”

She glanced at him and had to control
her instinctive impulse to jump when she realized he was already
staring at her. She saw the smile teasing his lips and stared,
mesmerized as he popped a piece of carrot into his
mouth.

“About the war or about your
father?”

“Both.”

He grinned and Jocelyn found her heart
skipping and a strange sort of heat gathering in the pit of her
stomach. Surprised, and for some reason embarrassed she placed a
hand across her midriff and strengthened her resolve not to turn
away from his gaze even though her face was flaming.

Groaning Damon took a sip from his cup
and leaned back in his seat, long legs stretching out beneath the
table.

“I met John when we both fought in
Orissa under Wellesley’s army. I’d just turned eighteen and at the
time I remember him bragging about his daughters more than I
remember any actual fighting.”

He was funny and a surprisingly good
storyteller. She could see that spark in him that her father had
always talked about and which she remembered vaguely from her
childhood. War was something tragic but exciting, his fellow
soldiers just as strange and interesting as the places he had seen.
She could tell, by the stiff set of his shoulders and her own
common sense that it hadn’t all been as clean cut as he made it out
to be and because of that, because she knew he spoke of painful
memories simply for her entertainment she found herself more
engrossed by him than she’d been by her father. Before she knew it
had gotten late and Ava had fallen asleep at the table, her soft
snores the only sound in the room after Damon’s deep voice had
finally fallen silent.

“Was I boring?”

Jocelyn ran a gentle hand over Ava’s
hair and shook her head.

“No, she’s simply tired. It’s been a
trying week.”

Damon ducked his head and took a
fortifying drink. “Ah, yes. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Glancing over her shoulder
Jocelyn found Jeremy and indicated Ava with a nudge of her
head.

“Can you take her upstairs?”

“I’ll be heading up now as well
then.”

Startled Jocelyn considered Damon for a
moment as Jeremy scooped Ava up with surprising ease and headed out
of the room.

“You won’t stay up and talk with me a
bit more, Mr. Burleigh?”

He paused in the doorway and Jocelyn
watched as the strong shoulders of his tightened with
tension.

“No. I think it’s best for us both if I
get some rest.” He grinned at her over his shoulder, a lock of hair
falling forward and into his eyes. “I’m afraid I’m not the best of
company when I’m tired.”

Jocelyn opened her mouth but before she
could say anything else they’d all left.

Blowing out an irritated breath, she
collapsed back in her chair and tried to ignore the dull sense of
disappointment that filled her heart.

* * * *

Damon had a mantra that was constantly
going through his head.

She was too young, she was too rich,
and she was John’s daughter.

Those three reasons alone should have
been enough to keep him away from her.

But they weren’t. At dinner he found
himself being drawn to her just as always. He’d liked how her eyes
had measured him as he’d told his stories, liked the deep, throaty
sound of her laughter and the easy relaxation of her face. He also
liked the way her breasts pushed against the modest bodice of her
high-waisted gown each time she leaned toward him. Her plump little
mouth made him dry mouthed, her voice sent chills down his spine,
and when she looked at him with those cat green eyes he got hard.
Even now the memory of her sent tension thrumming through his body
and he spent a good while wandering the halls trying to ease it. He
was at the door to his room when he heard a gasp from behind him.
Turning, he saw that Jocelyn stood not two feet away, her eyes wide
as she watched him.

“They…they put you in that
room?”

His eyes darted to where she stood in
front of what he had to assume was her room and he had to smile.
Leaning back against his door, he folded his arms across his chest
and raised an eyebrow at her.

“Looks like it.”

“But my room--”

“Is there a problem? It’s only one
night and tomorrow we’ll be leaving together so it’s best if you
get used to me.”

He saw her face darken and she lowered
her head so that curls rocked forward to hide her expression from
him.

“I can stay here you know. I could take
care of the house just fine without--”

“You’re coming, and I won’t hear
anything else about it.” His voice was hard, harder than he’d
intended to make it, and he paused as Jocelyn’s head jerked up in
surprise. Her face reddened and her eyes flashed.

“You’re not my father.”

He suspected that his words had stemmed
more from his desire to keep her than his wish to follow John’s
last request. And he was ashamed of himself for it.

“No…no, I’m not.”

The anger in her face didn’t go away so
much as it was replaced by a soft kind of mockery. She ran her gaze
over his body and Damon’s hands clenched as her eyes lingered and
caressed his body. He was sure she didn’t know what she was doing
but the effect was devastating nevertheless. He couldn’t understand
it himself, how much this little girl shook his boundaries and
twisted his mind. When she moved forward and ran her hand down the
muscled length of his arm he almost lost it. He could see himself
grabbing her and slamming her against the length of his door.
Pressing himself between her legs, and running his teeth and tongue
over neck, breasts and thighs until the sound of her voice echoed
in his ears just as seductively as the smell and heat of her
mesmerized his senses.

“I’m a grown woman, Mr. Burleigh. I’m
no giggling young debutante with no sense in my head. I think I’m
more than capable of handling anything thrown at me.”

Damon’s head went blank, and he felt
his jaw tightening. He looked down at the girl touching his arm,
and he felt something dark and animalistic rear its head as she
smiled up at him. He hadn’t felt this out of control in a long
time, not since he’d lost everything. Only this wildness didn’t
come from despair and guilt but rather an instinctual urge to grab
and keep a bright, shining bird he’d been searching for for what
seemed like forever.

He wanted her, and not simply in the
biblical sense.

Jerking his arm away he turned on his
heel, went into his room and slammed the door behind him. He heard
her squeak in outrage but he ignored her, instead taking deep
steadying breaths as he slid down the door to sit on the cold
floor.

It had finally happened.

He’d finally lost his mind.

* * * *

That night it was hard to fall asleep.
She kept tossing and turning and no matter how many times she beat
at her pillow her guilt wouldn’t let her rest. She’d known once
she’d seen him that her being alone with a man in the middle of the
night was in no way appropriate. She’d known that but something
about him, about how lonely and tired he’d seemed outside of his
room after he’d put forth such an effort at dinner had tugged at
her heart. He was strict yes, she could see that, unyielding, and
loyal if his dedication to her father was any indication. At times
he was frightening, unsociable, short tempered. But Jocelyn knew he
was also incredibly sad because something in his despair called to
her own.

So she’d talked to him, tried once
again to reason with him, and when that failed she’d pulled some of
Ava’s tricks. She’d been angry that he was so completely
disregarding her and her wishes. She’d wanted to tease him, just a
little bit. But Jocelyn hadn’t considered how strange he was.
Strange because it seemed like with that one touch what she’d noted
in the back of her mind seemed to be brought into sharp
relief.

The hard muscle beneath her fingertips,
the searing heat of his body that seemed as if it were reaching for
her, touching her. He was taller than her, stronger, and so very
handsome with eyes that churned like the sky during a storm
whenever he looked at her.

She had to remind herself that he was
basically kidnapping her but the words rang empty that night. The
truth was that she understood his position and respected him for
it. It just didn’t mean that she had to cooperate.

She wouldn’t be going to England to
live with the enemy, but because it was easier, because she wanted
to make sure that at least Ava would be safe, she would pretend to.
Then, as soon as she got the chance she’d escape. Her last thought
as she drifted off to sleep was that she’d need to write a letter
asking Charles, her father’s lawyer, to take care of things until
she could come back.

* * * *

There were no concrete images, just a
confused jumble of wet heat and searing gray eyes. His hands are
moving over her now, stroking, touching, and thrusting until
Jocelyn can’t help but to rock her hips to meet them. Hunger,
longing, need, pleading and panting. Spread her thighs and beg.
Want him, need him, touch her, taste her, lift her, kiss her, and
please her. Press desperate skin and lean muscles against soft
curves and listen to her scream until the world explodes in a
shower of stars that singe and punish like the rough tongue of a
lover’s kisses.

Chapter two

They’ve grown so much Damon. More than
you can imagine. Ava is still a hellion and God knows how I’ve
raised her without a woman’s help all these years. But I worry for
Jocelyn. Ever since the war began she’s taken less and less time to
dance and has been spending more time down in old Mrs. Roseland’s
place tending to the wounded boys who’ve been brought to her
doorstep to recover. There seems to be less time for enjoyment in
my Joss’s life and more for worry and I don’t want that for either
of my girls. I want you…no, I need you to take care of them for me
when the time comes that I no longer can.

“My, my Jocelyn. Fly catching are
we?”

At Ava’s mocking, though still
lady-like tones, Jocelyn’s mouth snapped shut and she shook her
head to try and erase the last traces of exhaustion. She hadn’t
slept well last night, the reason for that being much too
embarrassing to talk about with anyone. Even Ava. So clearing her
throat she smiled at her sister before allowing the groom to hand
her up into the carriage. They’d managed to load everything they’d
wanted onto the contraption but only barely. The carriage swayed
and groaned under the combined weight of its luggage and passengers
and another horse had been harnessed to it to help carry the load.
Her own horse, Jet, was too proud to be put to such menial work and
Jocelyn was happy to strap him to the back so she could follow them
at his leisure.

Slipping off her shoes and gloves
Jocelyn moved over to make room for Ava as the carriage door was
closed behind them. She had no desire to stay improper and
uncomfortable the entire trip so she figured she’d start early. She
expected Damon to slip in before they started on their way but it
wasn’t until she looked out the window and saw him straddling a
dark brown mare that she knew he planned to avoid her. She thought
about calling out to him but the Carriage lurched forward almost as
soon as she opened her mouth.

She said something rude and Ava looked
at her in surprise.

“My, my, my such a dirty mouth so early
in the morning.”

“Be quiet, Ava.”

“What did I do?”

“It isn’t you.”

“Oh, really?”

Jocelyn tried to keep herself from
pouting. “Of, course not. I just thought he’d ride with us is
all.”

Ava’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Why?
You don’t--” She paused, and looking first one way and then
another, she leaned forward and whispered, “You don’t like him do
you?”

Jocelyn let her own eyes widen and
motioned Ava closer. When she complied she slapped the girl over
the head with her gloves.

“He can’t hear us idiot. Why are you
whispering?”

Scowling, Ava sidled away.

“Besides,” Jocelyn continued, turning
to look back out the window in search of their ‘guardian’. “I just
want to try and talk him into letting me stay even if you don’t
want to.”

Rolling her eyes, Ava snapped, “You
don’t need to keep lying Joss. I’m right aren’t I? You do like
him.” Petulantly she muttered under her breath just loud enough for
Jocelyn to make out the words.

“You probably dreamed naughty things
about him and that’s why you’re so exhausted.”

Ava looked up and paled when she saw
Jocelyn’s panicked eyes and gaping mouth.

“How did you know?”

“Oh, my god.” Squealing Ava launched
herself across the carriage and grabbed Jocelyn’s shoulders,
ignoring the violent rocking of the carriage her movements
caused.

“I was only teasing, are you
insane?”