Because it was true, Kate shrugged. Her short black hair fluttered in the wind. She took a deep gulp of air, loving the way it thickened and churned. “At least I’m saving up for a car, instead of cutting out pictures of Ferraris and Jaguars.”

“If you’re going to dream,” Margo said, frowning at a minute chip in the coral polish on her nails, “dream big. I’ll have a Ferrari one day, or a Porsche, or whatever I want.” Her summer-blue eyes narrowed with determination. “I won’t settle for some secondhand junker like you would.”

Laura let them argue. She could have defused the sniping, but she understood it was simply part of the friendship. And she didn’t care about cars. Not that she didn’t enjoy the spiffy little convertible her parents had given her for her sixteenth birthday. But one car was the same as another to her.

She realized it was easier, in her position. She was the daughter of Thomas and Susan Templeton, of the Templeton hotel empire. Her home loomed on the hill behind her, stunning under the churning gray sky. It was more than the stone and wood and glass that composed it. More than the turrets and balconies and lush gardens. More than the fleet of servants who kept it shining.

It was home.

But she had been raised to understand the responsibilities of privilege. Within her was a great love of beauty and symmetry, and a kindness. Aligned with that was a need to live up to Templeton standards, to deserve all she’d been given by birthright. Not only the wealth, which even at sixteen she understood, but also the love of her family, her friends.

She knew Margo always fretted at limitations. Though they had grown up together at Templeton House, as close as sisters, Margo was the daughter of the housekeeper.

Kate had come to Templeton House when her parents had been killed. An eight-year-old orphan. She was cherished, absorbed into the family, as much a part of the Templetons as Laura and her older brother, Josh.

Laura and Margo and Kate were as close as—perhaps closer than—sisters who shared blood. But Laura never forgot that the Templeton responsibility was hers.

And one day, she thought, she would fall in love, marry, and have children. She would carry on the Templeton tradition. The man who came for her, who swept her up in his arms, who made her belong to him, would be everything she’d ever wanted. Together they would build a life, create a home, carve out a future as polished and perfect as Templeton House.

As she pictured it, dreams budded in her heart. Delicate color bloomed on her cheeks while the wind tossed her blond curls around them.

“Laura’s dreaming again,” Margo commented. Her grin flashed, transforming her striking face to stunning.

“Got Seraphina on the brain again?” Kate asked.