In the darkness, she groped her way to the bed and lay down stiffly beside him, horribly aware that this might very well be the last time they shared a bed, the last time they were ever alone together. She could feel the warmth of his body radiating toward her, and although she realized the irony of the desire, she longed for the comfort she knew his arms could give.

Josh sensed her confusion and thought he understood it. She was wondering why he had changed his mind about taking her with him. Probably she had even perceived his eagerness to leave her behind and been hurt by it. He tried telling himself that he should have been glad she wanted to stay with him, but somehow the thought only made lying here beside her without touching her all the more difficult.

Although he had tried not to watch her undress and although she had been careful to shield herself, he had caught an occasional glimpse of the white skin he knew would feel like warm satin under his hands. Her sweet, feminine fragrance teased at him as he tried drawing a steadying breath. The bedclothes whispered tantalizing secrets as she shifted to a more comfortable position.

This was the last time he would be with her for weeks, perhaps months. How long until he would see her lovely face again, hear the music of her voice, or taste the honey of her kiss? How long until she would belong completely to him again? And what if Ortega and Jeremiah made good their threats? What if Josh was careless just once and a lucky bullet found its mark? He might never be able to summon her home.

Felicity shifted restlessly, aching for his touch but too proud to seek it. If he was determined to rid himself of her, if he was too much of a hypocrite to even tell her to her face that their marriage was over, she would die before she would display any weakness before him.

But what if she was wrong? What if he really was only thinking of her happiness? What if he was being noble and unselfish?

Felicity considered this for a moment and rejected it. If Joshua did want her, he would drag her back to Texas by the hair if she refused to go any other way. She was certain of that, but still something compelled her to ask, "Will you miss me?"

Josh heard the anguish in her voice, an anguish he shared. "God, yes," he answered, his voice ragged as he considered another possibility, a possibility even more horrible to contemplate than his own death. Suppose while she was here, alone and unprotected, Winthrop and Maxwell turned her against him?

Felicity's nerves quivered at the throbbing intensity of his reply. He would miss her! Perhaps she had misjudged him. Perhaps he was more noble than she thought. But even the most unselfish man alive could easily forget a wife who was little more than a companion to him. He had loved her once.

Could she awaken that love again?

Fury stirred in Josh as he pictured Winthrop with Felicity, charming her, seducing her. Josh wouldn't allow that. Couldn't allow that. She was his wife. She belonged to him.

"Joshua?"

"Ussy?"

They spoke in unison, their voices raw with suppressed need. In the next instant they came together, lips and hands frantically searching out remembered delights. Softness pressed sinew, satin stroked velvet, and needs became compulsion.

Josh knew he should not take her. He told himself that he would stop in just another moment, just another moment of the luxury of his flesh pressed to hers, of her mouth opened beneath his, of her arms clinging to his strength. But there was no way to stop, not when her hands found those secret places and stroked him into madness.

Felicity urged him on, taking his weight eagerly. How could this be wrong when it was so wonderful? Her blood sang in her veins, siren songs that promised a sweet destruction she was powerless to resist. "Love me, Joshua," she begged, desiring far more than just the physical act, but willing to settle for the blessed contentment that surged in her as he filled her.

But no sooner did she feel that surge than she heard his broken cry and felt the gentle pulsing of his release. His body went limp on hers for just a moment before he slid away, freeing her from his weight.

Still quivering from her unfulfilled desire, she did not at first realize what he was doing as he kicked free of the constraint of the underwear tangled around his legs. And then his hands were on her again, struggling with the nightdress that was bunched around her shoulders.

"Take this off," he commanded. His voice was almost grim, his hands rough.

"Why?" she asked stupidly.

And then she sensed a change in him. At her question, his touch gentled, and she could hear a teasing smile in his voice when he said, "You didn't think it was over, did you? You haven't finished… and neither have I."

With hands that fumbled, she helped him strip the nightdress from her body. This time they came together with no restraints, either physical or emotional.

Felicity strained against him feverishly as his desperation fed hers. Giving became receiving, and pleasure blossomed into a tangible force that pushed her over the brink into the deep, dark pool of ecstasy.

Josh cradled her through the aftershocks, holding himself back because they still weren't finished. Now that it was already too late, now that he had nothing more to fear from loving her, he was going to give her a memory to hold her through the lonely weeks and months ahead. A memory to seal her heart against the threat of any other man.

"Joshua, what are you…" she asked faintly when she felt his hands teasing her again.

"Shhhh," he whispered into her hair. "Don't ask stupid questions."

"But I don't think I can," she protested weakly.

But she could. And she did.

"Logan's gone," Henry Maxwell reported with satisfaction.

"Gone?" Richard repeated incredulously as he approached his uncle's bed. "What do you mean, gone?"

"I mean, he went back to Texas, just like that. He left this morning. He's probably in Baltimore by now," Henry explained.

"But why? Why would he simply leave without Felicity?" Richard asked. "He did leave without her, didn't he?" he added in sudden alarm.

Henry nodded triumphantly. "I'm not exactly sure why, though. He came to see me this morning before he left. He said there was some trouble at his ranch. He didn't say what it was, and I don't know why he told me unless he wanted me to know he wouldn't leave Felicity except for something very important, but in any case, he doesn't want her to know anything about it," Henry explained, frowning over the memory of Josh's adamance on the matter. "That suits my purpose, though."

Richard gave his uncle a considering look. "And what, exactly, is your purpose?"

Henry chuckled conspiratorially. "The same as yours, boy," he said. "I want Felicity to stay here… with us." He chuckled again at Richard's flabbergasted expression.

"I've told you before, I'm not senile yet, boy," Henry said, crossing his arms over his thin chest. "I've seen the way you look at her. I'd have to be pretty stupid not to figure out what's on your mind. And you can rest assured that I plan to leave her everything… after I've provided for Isabel, of course. The man she's married to will be quite wealthy."

"The man she's married to is Logan," Richard reminded him crossly.

"That could change, if you play your cards right," Henry said, his eyes narrowing shrewdly. "Logan has already brought her here and left her. That might easily be seen as desertion in a court of law. A good lawyer would point out that as soon as she lost his child, he sent her away."

"Something like that could be very ugly," Richard warned, but he was only testing his uncle to see just how far the old man was willing to go to keep his granddaughter.