Still, her heart dreamed of falling in love. Of passion. Of a man who would want her in those same ways and not merely as the product of a business arrangement. A man who would have fire in his eyes when he looked at her…

Even as Julianne tried to erase his image from her memory, a mental picture rose in her mind. Of a tall man with stark features, ebony hair, and dark eyes filled with secrets and mystery. A man surrounded by a veil of tempting, seductive, enticing danger. A man forbidden to her.

Gideon Mayne…

His name whispered through her mind, a silent sigh of longing.

He had fire in his eyes when he looked at her-a look that made her burn to know more, to know everything about him.

"Yes, you both married fabulous, dashing men," Emily said, pulling Julianne from her wayward thoughts, "and very selfishly, I might add, leaving nothing but nincompoops for Julianne and me. No other such magnificent men exist, and alas, Maxwell is but a figment of fiction."

He existed, Julianne knew.

But he could never be hers.

Lady Elaine had suffered the same dilemma regarding her ghostly lover Maxwell in The Ghost of Devonshire Manor, and Julianne vividly understood the hopelessness of the other woman's impossible feelings.

"The things that Maxwell did to Lady Elaine…" Sarah gushed out a sigh. "Good heavens, no wonder she never wanted to leave her home."

Julianne bit back a groan as a flash of heat tingled through her body. The story's scandalous nature had conjured all manner of fantasies featuring Gideon Mayne, images she couldn't dispel from her mind.

"My favorite parts of the book were when Maxwell scared off Lady Elaine's various suitors," Carolyn said. "He was quite devilish. And ingenious."

"Very," agreed Sarah. "I especially laughed when he made the vicar's duck entrée dance and quack on his plate."