"But honey, dogs are our living… a damned good living, too… and someone has to handle the business end of things," the handsome dark-haired husband protested, shrugging his shoulders in a gesture of helplessness. "I've got to travel and visit other breeders. We're in a highly competitive business and need the best dogs available to keep our line where it is – at the top."

"Yes, Bill, I know, but…"

"And that means scouting around," he continued, ignoring her attempted objection. "Unless, of course, you'd rather we just sat back and lived off your parents, always dependent upon them and without any real say about our own lives."

"No, darling, I-I didn't mean that at all," Diane assured him weakly, hating herself as she felt the last of her self-righteous indigence fade away in the fact of his solid common sense and logic. Despite how lonely and deprived she always felt when he was gone, she could think of no effective way to communicate her feelings to him about the task of caring for the dogs and the sense of loss she experienced as a young bride when he was not home with her. As conscious as she was of her social background and upbringing, it was true that she also wanted independence, not to be enslaved by the large sums of money her mother and father would gladly give them if only they would abide with the older couple's wishes. The exquisite blue-eyed girl felt her irritation waver and finally topple over altogether as she faltered helplessly in her own rising sense of shame and guilt.

She felt a flood of relief as he crossed the room to where she sat on the plush sofa and eased himself down beside her, his brawny right arm automatically encircling her shoulders, enfolding her. She dropped her head against his firm chest, her breath quavering as he drew her closer against him, his warmth mingling with hers. Gently he rubbed up and down along her bare arms, craning his head forward to nibble softly with his lips at her slender neck and sensitive left ear lobe.