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"… and I sometimes wish I could stay here forever," she said, instantly shocked by her own boldness. What a thing to say!

"You can't stay here," Josh said, instantly defensive. He tossed her bundle onto the settee and turned on her somewhat belligerently.

"I know I can't," Felicity hastily assured him, appalled by the tears that seemed only too ready to blur her vision lately. Blinking furiously, she did not see his expression soften. Nor did she see him reach for her.

She looked so vulnerable, and he only meant to comfort her, but he had forgotten how wonderful she felt in his arms. He pulled her closer, reaching up to stroke the golden softness of her hair.

Felicity stiffened instinctively as his arms closed around her, but her natural reserve melted in the warmth of his embrace, the same embrace that had comforted her during the storm. This was what she had been longing for ever since her father's death, someone to hold her and tell her everything would be fine. She surrendered to his strength.

Sensing her surrender, Josh almost groaned aloud. Her body burned against his like a living flame, scorching wherever it touched. Yet he pulled her closer still, eager for his own destruction. His hands moved over her back, tracing her slenderness, memorizing the feel of her through the thin material of her dress. She was so small, yet so vibrant. Life seemed to radiate from her, and Josh had the vague impression that he could absorb that life into himself, that he could warm his soul on the heat of her vitality, if he could only hold her tightly enough.

Felicity looked up into his face. His eyes were the color of storm clouds, but she knew he was not angry. She liked those eyes, liked the way the lashes framed them, dark at the base and fading to pure white at the tips, where the sun had bleached them. He smelled of horses and leather and sunshine and Josh Logan. Felicity savored his scent as his hands compelled her closer.

Her eyes were so blue, but now he noticed that there were tiny golden flecks in them, too, as if the hand that had created her had added them to match the gold in her hair. Dark brown lashes curled up gracefully, and Josh remembered how they had looked brushing her cheeks when she had slept peacefully in his arms. He could see where her dimple would be if it were showing. But it wasn't showing. Her lips weren't smiling. Instead they were parted slightly to allow her sweet breath to sigh out. Her mouth was pink and soft, and he knew just how she would taste, like honey, thick and luscious, dripping from the comb.

His lips touched hers, closing out light and sound and everything else except the delicious sensation of mouth against mouth. Quite of their own accord, her arms came up, encircling his waist, and she felt as much as heard the moan that started deep in his chest.

Josh crushed her to him in the futile pursuit for unity, ignoring the warning his subconscious mind was sending him that so delicate a creature might not bear rough handling.

Felicity felt the change in him, the shift from exploration to desperation. Frightened by forces she did not understand, she tried to break away.

Startled, Josh released her, and she broke free of his embrace, stumbling backward a few steps before lifting her eyes to him again. They stared at each other in mute horror.

Felicity lifted the back of her hand to her throbbing mouth. She felt as if she had run a mile, and she noticed that his breath was coming in ragged gasps, too. Mr. Logan had kissed her. The thought was so astounding that it could barely get a foothold in her seething brain. Why would he do such a thing? And why had she allowed it? But how could she have prevented it? And what would happen now?

Josh could not believe what he had done. The girl was under his protection, and he had grabbed her and kissed her as if she were some two-bit whore. He must be out of his mind. "That didn't happen," he said hoarsely.

Felicity was only too happy to promote such a delusion. "No, it didn't," she whispered, unable to make her voice work normally.

He drew a ragged breath and hurried from the house, slamming the door behind him. Out on the porch he tried to roll himself a smoke but found that his hands were shaking too badly. With a curse he flung the mangled mess away and stormed down the steps and across the ranch yard.

Felicity stared at the door through which he had gone for several minutes, hardly daring to move.

"Did he kiss you?" Candace inquired casually from the other side of the room.

"No! Of course not!" Felicity lied, whirling to face the black woman.

"Oh," Candace replied calmly, noting what a poor liar the girl was. "I wonder whatever made me think a thing like that. Did you fetch your things from the wagon?" she asked, gesturing to the bundle sitting on the settee.

"Yes." Felicity snatched up the bundle. "Mr. Logan helped me carry my things over to the house. That's all. I… I think I'll go to my room now. I'm a little tired, and tomorrow will be a busy day."

"Good night then," Candace said, but the girl was already closing the door behind her. Candace smiled smugly. Things were going perfectly.

Much later Josh entered the bunkhouse, where most of the rest of the men had already turned in for the night. A lamp was burning at the far end of the room, where Josh's bunk was located. He crept silently toward it past the rows of sleeping men. Cody was lying on the bunk next to his, flipping through an issue of The Police Gazette. Looking at the pictures of scantily clad ladies, no doubt, Josh thought. Josh guessed he wasn't the only one around here obsessed with women lately. The boy looked up, smiling a greeting as Josh began to prepare for bed.

After a minute Cody closed the magazine and stuffed it back under his mattress. He stretched out on his back, propping his hands behind his head. "She sure is a nice girl, isn't she?" Cody asked, apropos of nothing.

Josh didn't have to ask to whom he was referring, of course. Since he did not trust himself to reply, he did not.

But Cody needed no encouragement. "Wouldn't it be great if she could stay here? Forever, I mean?"

Josh felt his nerves stretch taut. Was that all anyone around her could think about? "She can't stay here, Cody," Josh said. "It wouldn't be proper."

"Oh, I know that," the boy agreed readily enough. "But she could if she was married. You know, if she married… one of us."

Josh was just about to inform him that such a thing would never happen when he noticed the hopeful gleam in the boy's brown eyes. Cody wanted to marry her himself! Josh could only stare for a long moment. "Turn out the light," he finally managed to say before slipping into his own bunk.

He lay there for a long time in the darkness, wondering if the bitter taste in his mouth could possibly be jealousy. But how could he be jealous when he had no feelings for the girl himself? After a while, he reluctantly admitted that he did have some feelings for the girl, but certainly not honorable ones. Not the kind that led to marriage.

Josh couldn't imagine ever having those kinds of feelings for a woman, not after what his mother had done. The thought of his mother-and of her betrayal-sliced into him with an almost physical pain. She had been gone nearly twenty years, but he could still see her lovely face just as plain as day. He remembered times when she had come into his room at night and kissed him, remembered the softness of her lips, the scent of her perfume. But mostly he remembered the things he wasn't supposed to have seen-his father reaching out to touch her and her lily-white hands pushing him away.

"Don't, Gideon," she had said.

"But it's been so long." His father's voice, pleading as Josh had never heard it.

"I told you, I won't have any more babies. I almost died the last time. You know that." Her voice, shrill and angry.

Now he was angry, too. "But you're my wife. I have rights."

And then Josh had run away from the angry voices. He hadn't understood then what they had been arguing about, but he did now. Knowing helped him to understand why she had left finally, but understanding had never helped him to forgive. He also remembered another conversation he was not supposed to have heard.