Chapter Eight
As soon as he entered his house, Julian slipped off the Indian sandals he’d worn to the bazaar. Feeling tired from all the walking and hungry from all the food they had looked at, he went in search of his mother.
His conscience still pricked him about how he’d held Miss Renwick’s hand before they parted, but something inside of him just did not want to let her go.
Perhaps it was seeing her in that sari, or her enthusiasm and interest in the most mundane of outings? Whatever it was, he had to remind himself again of why he was deliberately spending time with her.
Yes, she was an interesting girl, although she did ask the most outrageous and bold questions anyone had ever asked him. And it could not be denied that she was beautiful enough to set his blood pounding through
