She tried to think this over, but the heat of his body seemed to be melting her brain. "N… no," she finally admitted, forcing herself to study his chest so she would not see the teasing look in his eyes. The hair on his chest was black, lightly sprinkled with silver. Although her fingers itched to touch it, she kept them tightly clutched into the sheet that still guarded her modesty.

"Lissy," he whispered.

Instinctively, she raised her gaze to his.

"I'm going to make love to you again," he said. His eyes were smoldering charcoal.

Felicity swallowed the lump in her throat. "In the daylight?" she asked apprehensively. There were things she did not want him to see, and not just the parts of her hidden under the sheet.

"Yes, in the daylight," he said, gently pulling the sheet loose from her grasp and confirming her worst fears. "This time I want to see your face when you say my name."

"I'm telling you, Asa, they've disappeared off the face of the earth!"

Asa Gordon nodded understanding. He could readily sympathize with Smythe's frustration. The poor man had been chasing rabbits for months now, and still no sign of Storm or the girl. "Do you think they're dead?" he asked.

The two men were in a stuffy hotel room in San Antonio. Asa lounged on the sagging bed and Smythe straddled a rickety straight-backed chair.

"I don't know," Smythe grumbled. "But even if they were, somebody would've seen that wagon. It looks like one of them medicine show wagons, all painted up fancy. I'm starting to think they must've left Texas altogether. Maybe they went north, or west."

Asa shook his head. "I don't think so. The old man might be scared, but he wouldn't take the girl into Indian territory. Too dangerous. And there's still some Comanches on the loose out West." He considered Storm's third option for a moment. "I doubt he'd go east, either. Seems that he once swore he'd never even let the girl back across the Mississippi. He was a fanatic about protecting her. No, I think they're still here, somewhere. Maybe they got rid of the wagon, maybe they changed their names and took up a new profession, but I'd bet a month's pay they're still in Texas."

In spite of his apparent confidence, Asa was really going more on gut instinct than anything else. He had learned to trust that instinct, and even though he had never met Storm, he believed he understood how the man's mind worked. The photographer might crawl into a hole somewhere, pull it in after him, and stay hidden for a while, but he would never risk the girl's life, nor would he take a chance on people and places about which he knew nothing. Sooner or later, they would surface again, and when they did, Asa would hear about it.

"I'll start in the town where they disappeared." Seeing Smythe's disgruntled frown, he smiled placatingly. "I know you've already questioned everybody there, but I'll be a new face. I've got a good cover story, too, one that'll make people eager to help me. Maybe somebody will remember something new. Now, I need some advice on a rooming house that I can use as a base of operations. Any suggestions?"

"The one where I'm staying is fine," Smythe offered.

Asa shook his head. "No, I've seen your landlady. She's too skinny. Skinny women are never good cooks," he said with a sly smile.

"Oh, I forgot your preferences there for a minute," Smythe said, returning the smile. "I think I know just the place you're looking for."

"I wish I had my camera," Felicity said wistfully, resting her chin on her updrawn knees and gazing longingly at the way the clear, blue Texas sky canopied the rolling prairie.

Josh stretched out on the blanket, carefully avoiding the remains of their picnic, and propped himself up on one elbow. "Why?" he asked, smiling as he watched the gentle breeze tease at her hair. He had, in fact, spent most of the four days since his wedding smiling. He could not remember ever feeling so content.

"Because this tree is absolutely beautiful," she said, indicating the huge cottonwood under which they sat. "With the creek behind it and my handsome husband in front of it, the whole thing would make a wonderful photograph."

"With me in front of it!" Josh repeated in amazement, and then he saw her teasing grin. With a growl, he reached out and grabbed her, dragging her across the blanket and into his arms.

"Mr. Logan! Someone will see us!" Felicity warned, laughing and squirming against him in a mockery of her words.

"There's nobody within miles of this place," he argued, using his tongue to tickle her neck. Still, he knew she was right. Someone just might come along. He would have to restrain himself. Sighing with resignation, he pulled back slightly so he could see her face. To get his mind off what her glittering eyes were suggesting, he said, "Why would you like to take my picture again?"

A little startled at the question and more than a little breathless from his nearness, she hesitated a moment before replying, not quite certain she wanted him to know the true reason. The fact was that she adored him, and she would never be able to take enough photographs of him.

"You take a very good picture," she hedged, "and now I think I even know how to get you to smile," she added with another grin. All she had to do, it seemed, was be there. He smiled at her all the time now, a smile that indicated he was delighted with her. She basked in the glow of that delight, thrilled beyond measure that she pleased him as much as he pleased her. Their married life had thus far consisted of passionate nights during which she learned things about her body she had never even suspected and things about her husband she had never dreamed. Those nights alternated with days like this one, days so idyllic she sometimes thought she must be imagining all of it. Never in her life had she been so happy or felt so secure. All the shadowy fears that had followed her across the plains of Texas were gone now.

"I'd like to have a picture of you, too," he said, settling her more comfortably in his arms and inhaling the sweet woman-scent of her body.

She laughed at the idea as she reached up to stroke his cheek. "Why do you need a picture? You see me every day."

Josh shrugged, unable to explain his reasons since he did not understand them himself. Instead he teased her. "So when you're old and fat, I can remember why I married you."

"Ohhhh!" she cried, trying to punch him, but he smothered her struggles and planted a kiss on her outraged mouth.

"Yes," he mused when she again lay still in his arms, "I'd like to have a picture of you looking just the way you look right now."

"That might be a little tricky…" she said softly, rubbing her nose against the whiskery point of his chin.

He grinned wickedly. "Not as tricky as the photograph I'd really like. What I'd really like is a picture of you just when you call me 'Joshua.'"

Felicity gasped at this reference to their lovemaking, still the only time she ever called him by his given name. She should not have been shocked. From the things he had said to her in the few days since their marriage, she should have realized that he was liable to say just anything, no matter how outrageous. But she had learned some tricks herself in those few days. "Well," she said, pretending to consider the possibility, "I had been thinking that Cody could take a wedding portrait of us…"

"What!" Josh shouted before he noticed the teasing twinkle in her eye. "You little…" He wrestled her to the ground and tickled her until she screamed for mercy.

"Stop! Please! I can't stand it!" she shrieked, and finally he let her go, pulling back and turning partially away from her as if he were affronted.