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Authors: Joyce Sullivan

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And Annette wanted all the attention for herself. She was already mounting her defense in the media. The prosecutor was asking for the death penalty and Annette was granting interview after interview, proclaiming her innocence and insisting that her sister's and brother-in-law's killer was still at large.

She claimed that the intruder on the island had attacked her as well, and that Juliana had shot and killed him. It was Juliana's gun. And it was her word against the word of the butler's daughter.

But Annette's story gathered more momentum when the intruder's body was identified and the police discovered he had connections to the Mafia. Annette insisted that the intruder had been hired by one of the higher ups in the Collingwood Corporation and she was being framed. Hunter
knew that even if his identity leaked out, he'd continue on as The Guardian. He'd protect Cort. And protect Juliana.

Grateful that Annette was securely behind bars, Juliana had devoted as much time as she could to being at her father's bedside and helping Hunter cope with the invasion of his beloved island and the loss of one of his men.

“Close your eyes,” Hunter said when they reached the fountain.

“Why?”

“Because I asked you very nicely to close them.”

Juliana obediently closed her eyes. Felt the warmth of the sun and a light southwesterly breeze touch her face as Hunter guided her with his hands. She guessed where they were going before she heard the key turn in the lock.

The squeak of rusted hinges brought tears to her eyes.

She felt the texture of cobbled stones beneath her feet and smelled the decay of vegetation.

“Open them.”

Juliana opened her eyes. As she'd suspected, they were in the greenhouse. The glass ceiling soared a good twenty feet in the air above them. Stone-edged beds curved along paths that radiated out from a small central courtyard. In the center of the courtyard, stood a cloth-covered pedestal.

Hunter cleared his throat. “This was my mother's favorite place.

She curled her fingers around his, absorbing his strength and love. “I'm sure it was very beautiful.”

“You asked me once to tell you a secret to prove that I trusted you.”

She shook her head. “You don't have to prove anything to me. You've shown me in so many ways that you trust me. That you have faith in me.” She drew a shaky breath. “If you hadn't shown me the safe room or told me about
the cave, Cort and I might not have survived. And neither would Lars and Del.”

Regret echoed in his voice. “I should have been here with you. Protecting you.”

“You were there when I needed you most,” Juliana insisted. “Besides, you were doing what you were supposed to be doing. You found out that Annette was the killer and you got the police out here in time.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder. “I don't want you to stop being The Guardian. It's who you are. I love that about you. And I'm still hoping that you'll find Riana. Annette insisted she had nothing to do with her abduction. I'm not sure I believe her.”

Hunter touched her hair, his gaze solemn. “I promise you, we'll keep looking. Bring her home with us here, with Cort. Now, back to my reason for bringing you here. Do you see that pipe there?” He pointed with his finger, his jaw tight. “That's where I found my mother the day she died. I never told anyone until now. The gardener discovered her later.”

Juliana took his dear face in her hands, her heart breaking at the painful memories in his eyes. “Oh, Hunter, I'm so sorry. That's an awful burden for a child to deal with.”

“I've locked up that memory like my father locked up this greenhouse, thinking if I ignored it, it would go away. I realize now that all it did was prevent me from being able to see the possibilities of the present and the future.”

He leaned down and kissed her. “I love you, Cinderella. You're my present and my future. Will you accept this greenhouse as my wedding gift and bring it back to life like you've brought me back to life?”

Juliana's throat swelled with emotions and a tear rolled down her cheek. “Oh, yes!”

Hunter kissed her reverently, deeply. “I was hoping
you'd say yes. But just in case you didn't, I had a backup plan.”

“Oh?”

He stepped away and pulled the cloth off the pedestal revealing a beautiful dainty sculpture of an old-fashioned ladies' slipper. The slipper was encrusted with sequins of glass that twinkled in the morning sunshine like diamonds.

Juliana laughed. “It's a shoe!”

“No, it's not. It's Cinderella's slipper. It's to remind you that I'm your perfect fit.”

Juliana tugged the tails of his shirt out of his slacks. “Care to show me what you mean by a perfect fit?”

Hunter laughed huskily. “Give me a second to lock the door. There are children running around.”

As if by magic, Mackensie appeared at the open door to the greenhouse, out of breath from running. “Mommy says to come quick. The hospital's on the phone. Aunt Juliana's father is out of the coma.”

She reached for Hunter's hand. Hand in hand, they ran toward the house. Brook met them on the back terrace, trying to hold back tears as she held the phone out to Juliana.

Juliana gripped the phone with a shaking hand. “Papa? It's me. I'm so glad you're back.”

Her father's voice was slurred but recognizable. “Me, too, little girl. Love you so much. Are you coming to see me?”

Juliana beamed up at Hunter and squeezed his strong fingers. “I'm on my way, Papa. And I'm bringing company.”

Epilogue

Four weeks later

The cursor blinked on the computer screen as Riana's kidnapper reread the short letter:

Riana Collingwood is alive. She is a bright, pretty child with her father's eyes and her mother's smile. Prepare a five-million-dollar cash ransom and await further instruction.

The kidnapper printed the letter. Then printed an envelope with the address of the Find Riana Foundation.

Wearing gloves, the kidnapper opened the envelope and slid Riana's hospital ID into it. As a finishing touch, two fine dark hairs plucked from the child's head were taped to the bottom of the letter.

That ought to get The Guardian's attention.

ISBN: 978-1-4592-4088-9

THE BUTLER'S DAUGHTER

Copyright © 2003 by Joyce David

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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BOOK: The Butler's Daughter
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