"Oh, God," he muttered, his gray eyes glowing. "Don't look at me like that, or I'll carry you off right now in front of everybody."

Her knees went so weak that she never knew how she had the strength to step away from him when the music ended. By conscious effort, she turned from him and put one foot in front of the other until she was walking in the direction of the outhouse.

The ranch house was dark and quiet when she entered, the only sound, the rustle of her skirts as she stepped into the front room. For a moment she paused in indecision, prickles of unease and anticipation tingling over her body. She would need to fetch her nightdress from her own bedroom. Should she change in there and then go to Mr. Logan's room or…

"In here," Candace called from the opposite side of the parlor.

Felicity looked up to see her standing in the doorway of a room she had never entered. Curiosity drew her. The room was a bedroom, much larger than the other two and furnished with an elegance that seemed out of place on a western ranch. The chestnut hues of the oversize mahogany bedstead and chests gleamed richly in the lamplight. Heavy blue velvet draperies hung at the windows over cream-colored Irish lace, matching the velvet and lace counterpane that lay neatly folded at the foot of the huge feather bed.

"Whose bedroom is this?" Felicity asked in amazement.

"This was the room Mr. Josh's parents slept in, at least until Mrs. Logan decided… Well, anyway, it's the master bedroom. This is the room where the master of the Rocking L Ranch should take his bride." Candace stood back, her dark eyes glittering with an emotion Felicity could not name.

"It's beautiful," Felicity said, glancing around again. Then something else occurred to her. "When did you do all this?" she asked, gesturing to include the freshly ironed sheets on the turned-down bed, the brightly oiled furniture, and the cut flowers gracing the bedside table.

Candace shrugged modestly. "This afternoon." Before Felicity could respond, she added, "I moved your things over, and Mr. Josh's, too. Here, I'll help you get out of that dress."

Felicity gratefully accepted Candace's offer, suddenly realizing how very tired she was, so tired that even her previous excitement now seemed blunted. By the time Candace helped her into her nightdress and tucked her into the huge bed, she was having a difficult time keeping her eyes open.

"Thank you… for everything, Candace," Felicity said as the black woman carefully hung the wedding dress in the enormous wardrobe.

Candace waved away her gratitude. "I was glad to do it. I was starting to think I'd never get a chance to make up Mr. Josh's marriage bed," she said with a twinkle. Then she came over, closer to where Felicity lay propped up against her pillow. Her face grew grave. "I know Mr. Josh will be good to you tonight, but if he goes too fast, you tell him to slow down. Sometimes men get excited and forget that the woman has feelings, too."

Felicity nodded, blushing furiously as she realized that Candace did not know what had already happened. What could she think when she found no bloodstains on the sheets tomorrow? Felicity had already scrubbed those stains from her petticoats days ago. She lowered her eyes so Candace would not read her shame.

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about," Candace said, patting Felicity's shoulder comfortingly. "It's a natural thing when two people love each other." Felicity watched Candace's ebony hand lightly stroke the golden hair she had left loose at the older woman's insistence. "You do love him, don't you?" Candace asked softly.

Felicity nodded again, unable to speak around the lump of pain clogging her throat. Yes, she knew it now. She did love him. But how would she ever get him to love her in return?

As if sensing her anguish, Candace allowed her comforting hand to slip around Felicity's slender shoulders in a small, reassuring hug. "Don't worry. There's nothing to be afraid of. My Joshua is a good man. You'll see."

Felicity closed her eyes against the tears that threatened and allowed Candace to adjust her pillow so she could lie flat. "Good night," she whispered in response to Candace's parting words, aware that Candace had turned the lamp down low in preparation for what she imagined would be the romantic interlude ahead.

In the darkened room, beneath the silken sheets, Felicity curled herself into a ball of misery. Her feet and legs ached from all the dancing she had done, but that was nothing compared to the pain in her heart as she waited for her husband to come to her. The tingling anticipation she had felt earlier settled into dread. She had almost forgotten how angry he had been with her all week, how often they had quarreled. Was he still angry beneath the courteous facade he had worn for their wedding guests? Would he take that anger out on her?

Or would this night be as passionate as their first encounter? Would he raise her to the heights of ecstasy once again or use his strength to degrade her? Strangely, she found both possibilities equally terrifying. As much as she would hate his cruelty, she also feared the mindless abandon his touch would elicit, the loss of control and her own feverish need. Thinking back to how she had acted that first time, she hardly recognized herself, hardly credited her own behavior.

Straining to hear the sound of booted feet approaching, she shifted restlessly beneath the bedclothes, aware that whatever demons her mind might be wrestling, her body still craved his touch. Sighing in resignation at her own uncontrollable desires, she waited.

Josh opened the door carefully, suspecting that she might be asleep. Sure enough, she was, lying in a tangle of flaxen curls that glittered like gold in the pale light. He closed the door silently behind him, never taking his eyes from her. She was, he realized, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and he wanted her in a way he had never wanted another woman, with a need that having her once had only inflamed.

Swiftly, he stripped off his clothes, heedless of where they fell and only vaguely aware of the room to which Candace had sent him, a room he had not entered in years. Only one thing mattered, holding her and claiming her.

She lay on her back, one delicate hand resting on her stomach, the other flung up beside her head amidst the gold of her hair. Josh silently cursed the well-wishers who had insisted on toasting his happiness time and again, keeping him from her for almost an hour.

He watched the gentle rise and fall of her breasts beneath the sheer fabric of her nightdress, so sheer he could see the shadows of her nipples nuzzling against the cloth. Desire ripped through him like the hot blade of a knife, making him gasp aloud. She stirred, but did not waken.

After a moment, when he thought he might be able to move again, he put out the light and slipped into the cushiony softness of the bed beside her. Her fragrance enveloped him in an invisible cloud, stirring his blood, urging him on. He reached for her, gentling his touch with the last shred of his willpower. "Lissy?"

Felicity responded to her name, emerging slowly from the dark oblivion into awareness equally dark. Robbed of her sight, her other senses grew more acute.

"Lissy?" a blessedly familiar voice beckoned as callused fingers stroked her cheek in well-remembered intimacy. Warmth surrounded her, his warmth, and with it the musky male scent that she recognized. But when he whispered her name again, she knew something was wrong.

"You've been drinking," she murmured drowsily, identifying the sickly sweet odor on his breath.

Josh chuckled at the faint note of censure in her voice. She was acting like a wife already. "Yes," he admitted. "I had to drink some toasts with our guests."

His words only half registered with her as she came completely awake and realized that she had fallen asleep waiting for him. She was embarrassed. "I didn't mean to fall asleep," she said in confusion. Only after she spoke did she think perhaps this was for the best since now he would not guess how eagerly she had awaited him.