And if his suspicions were correct... if she truly was Eleanor's daughter, his daughter...
"Who am I?" Julian's smile turned playful, almost teasing. He took another casual step forward, closing the distance between them slightly. "That's a very good question. Perhaps a better one would be, who are you, Lady Seraphine? Such power, such beauty, such authority... you're clearly not just anyone."
"I asked you first," she countered. "And you will answer, or I will remove you from this place by force."
"By force?" Julian's eyebrows rose. He let his gaze travel over her again, slower this time.
His eyes traced the curve of her neck, the line of her collarbone, and the generous swell of her breasts, down to that narrow waist and those wide hips.
"I must say, the idea of you attempting to... handle me... is quite intriguing."
The double meaning in his words was unmistakable.
