“Are you fond of dogs?”

“As a matter of fact, I am.”

“Excellent, as you are about to meet B.C.”

“Who is-eeeeyiiiii!” Victoria stumbled forward when she was firmly nudged right in the center of her buttocks. After regaining her footing, she whirled around and found herself facing the most massive dog she had ever seen. Light brown, with darker markings and a black, jowly muzzle, the monster stood regally, observing her through wide-set, dark brown eyes that bore an alert but hopefully kind expression. The top of the giant’s head reached her chest. She forced herself to remain perfectly still while the beast raised his head to sniff the air, his nose quivering.

“Lady Victoria, may I introduce B.C.”

“Wh-What does B.C. stand for?” she asked, guessing that the B was for either “behemoth” or “buttocks.”

“Boot chewer. Consider yourself forewarned, although I must say it is his only bad habit.”

“D-Delighted,” she murmured, slowly backing up several steps, alarmed when B.C. kept pace with her. She hit something solid and stopped. Large hands clasped her upper arms from behind and she realized that the something solid she’d hit was Dr. Oliver.

“I thought you said you liked dogs,” came his amusement-laced voice directly next to her ear.

Warmth from his hands eased down her arms, a stunning contrast to the tingling sensation his rich, deep voice so close to her ear invoked. Her shoulder blades brushed against his chest and she had to lock her knees to keep from leaning back fully into him.

“I do like dogs,” she said, her gaze locked on the massive beast in front of her. “But that is not a dog. That is more like a small… bear.”

He chuckled, his warm breath brushing over her neck, awakening sensitive nerve endings on her bare skin. He released her, then moved to stand beside her. Although he no longer touched her, the heated imprint of his hands lingered, and she gave thanks that she still held Boots, lest she brush her fingers over the warm spot where he’d held her. B.C. immediately trotted to his master, his tail wagging.

After patting the dog’s massive head, Dr. Oliver said, “Let’s do this properly, shall we, boy? Sit.” B.C.‘s bottom instantly hit the grass. “Shake.” The dog raised a forepaw the size of a plate. “He wishes to formally make your acquaintance.”

Victoria eyed the dog suspiciously. “He’s gentle?”

“Like a lamb.”

“Sadly I, um, have no experience with lambs to know if they’re gentle or not. Oh, they sound gentle, but for all I know, they might be snarling, snapping beasts-”

“B.C. is extremely gentle.”

“He looks as if he could eat my torso for an hors d’oeuvre. Tell me, are all your animals so very large? Have you nothing smaller?”

His lips twitched. “Not in a dog I’m afraid.”

Determined to wipe the amusement from that grinning mouth, Victoria swallowed her trepidation, then extended her hand to shake the proffered paw. After she released the massive paw, B.C. lowered it to the ground, leaving her hand perfectly intact. In truth, he was a handsome animal and seemed friendly enough-a bit too friendly, based on the buttocks bump he’d treated her to-but his sheer size rendered him intimidating.

Another pungent whiff of barnyard beast roused her from her frozen position. Deciding she’d gained enough information for one morning, she slowly sidestepped toward the stables, her wary gaze fixed on Dr. Oliver’s herd. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go for my ride.”

“Aren’t you forgetting something, Lady Victoria?”

Good Lord, that goat was staring at her again. She quickened her pace. “Er, I don’t believe so.” To her dismay, Dr. Oliver, his handsome face creased with a wicked grin, started toward her. As if that weren’t alarming enough, his pungent herd promptly fell into step behind him.

“My Boots,” he said.

Her gaze flicked down to his scuffed footwear. “They’re… very fine. Need a bit of polish, but-”

“I meant my cat, Lady Victoria.” He continued moving toward her, his animals behind him-except the cow, who’d paused to munch on a bit of grass.

“Your ‘Boots’,” she said, coming to a reluctant halt and feeling foolish. She looked down at the sleeping kitten, curled so sweetly in the crook of her arm, and was swamped with a feeling of unreasonable, ridiculous possessiveness.

Dr. Oliver stopped directly in front of her. He shot her a look of complete understanding. “Wriggle their way right into your heart, do they not?”

“I’m afraid so.” He reached out and she carefully set the kitten in his hands. Her fingers brushed his, jolting her pulse in the most ridiculous way. Once assured that Boots was securely transferred, she snatched her hands away. He tucked the tiny animal against his chest then nodded toward the stables. “Shall we?”

“Shall we what?”

“Go for a ride, of course. I need to feed the animals, but I can do that while Hopkins saddles our horses.”

“I don’t recall extending an invitation for you to join me, Dr. Oliver.”

“An accidental oversight, I’m sure.”

“Actually, no. I would prefer to ride alone.”

“How unfortunate, as I will be joining you.”

“I fear that is impossible, as I am without my chaperone.”

He waved her words aside. “It is not as if we will be in an enclosed carriage or confined area, Lady Victoria. We shall be outside, each riding our own horse, for all the world to see, should anyone care to-perfectly respectable behavior here in Cornwall. Now, tell me,” he continued in a conversational tone, “have you reconsidered returning my note to me?”

“I told you my terms last night. Those terms have not changed. Have you reached a decision regarding my proposition?”

“I gave you my decision last night, Lady Victoria.”

“And you’ll not reconsider?”

He shook his head then grinned. “I’d prefer to wait until you take off your clothes.”

Victoria pressed her lips together and willed away the heat prickling her face. “If you’ll excuse me…” She made to move around him, but he stepped to block her progress.

“Let us not argue,” he said. “It’s a lovely morning for a ride. I’ll play the charming host and show you a path that leads down to the beach.”

“Charming?” She uttered a sound dripping with disbelief. “No, thank you.”

“I’m afraid you have no choice, Lady Victoria. Your father instructed me to protect you. Since you won’t give me the note so as to determine precisely what his concerns are, you leave me with no option but to follow you about day and night. From sunup to sundown. Every minute of the day, from when you awake…” He moved a step closer to her and smiled. “… until you slip between the sheets at night.”

Seven

Today’s Modem Woman should apply the simple rules of fishing to catching her gentleman. First, bait the hook with a tempting morsel, such as a low-cut gown. Then cast the lure in the form of flirtatious conversation and suggestive looks. Reel in the prey with “accidental” brushings of her body against his, then drag him onto the shore and leave him gasping for breath with a slow, deep, sensual kiss.


A Ladies’ Guide to the Pursuit of

Personal Happiness and Intimate Fulfillment

by Charles Brightmore


Nathan looked at the blush spreading riotous color on Lady Victoria’s creamy smooth complexion and forced himself not to reach out and touch that bewitching color. Her blue eyes snapped with outrage and she all but bristled at his improper comment. Indeed, she resembled a firework about to explode.

“If that arrangement is not suitable to you, my lady, you need only to give me my note. Otherwise I fear I shall have to stick to you like green to lettuce. Like yellow to daffodil. Like red to tomato. Like-”

“I quite understand your meaning.” She pressed her lips together and he found himself staring at her mouth, anticipating her releasing the pressure so he could watch it resume its plump fullness. “Clearly you think that by making a pest of yourself-not a difficult feat, by the way-I will find your constant company so odious, I will gladly hand over the note.”

“That is my fondest wish, yes.”

“Then you’ve underestimated me and my determination.”

“On the contrary, I can see how stubborn you are.”

“There is a difference between determined and stubborn.”

“I’m sure you think there is. And I’d be delighted to hear your theory on the subject during our ride.” He raised his brows. “I should think you’d want me to go with you so as to ensure that I’m not searching your bedchamber in your absence.” He allowed his gaze to wander down her form, then met her eyes and slowly grinned. “Unless you fear that I’ll find the note on your person.”

She raised her chin in that obstinate, haughty, prim, look-down-her-nose fashion that for some idiotic reason he found highly arousing. “Certainly not.”

“Excellent. Then it is settled. Follow me.” He walked toward the stables, and she fell into step alongside him. Watching her from the corner of his eye, he suppressed a grin at the furtive glances she threw over her shoulder at his animals who followed directly behind them.

They entered the stables and he called out, “Hopkins, are you about?”

“Right here,” came a muffled voice. The first stall door on the left swung open and a rugged man with a swatch of fiery red hair and a matching beard shouldered his way through the opening carrying a large pail in each hand. “‘Mornin’, m’lady, Dr. Nathan.” He held up the buckets. “Just about to fill yer brood’s troughs. The hens left ye a gift of three fat eggs.”

Nathan smiled. “Thank you, Hopkins. Bring them up to the kitchen and have Cook prepare them for you.”