The music box stopped playing and his angel turned toward him. As she saw him she smiled, as if she thought him only a figment of her imagination. As though she'd thought of him coming to her many times and now he finally had.

Moving slowly toward her, he knelt beside her on the rug and gently lifted her face in his hands. Her skin was as warm and velvety soft as he remembered. He could hardly believe she was real, not a dream. He drank in her huge brown eyes, her creamy skin, her slightly pointed nose. Moving his thumb slowly across her cheek, he touched her lips. The angel he'd seen was flesh in his hands and as real to his touch as she had been the night before. Only now he could see her, every perfect part of her.

Unable to restrain himself, even as he saw the puzzlement in her eyes, Hunter bent forward and lightly touched her lips with his own.

"Hunter?" she whispered. "How…"

"Yes, angel." His words caressed her ear as his arms encircled her and drew her up to her knees.

"Hunter, what-" She couldn't finish, for his lips were smothering her words. He was drowning in a new ocean of feeling. Each time they touched, the need between them had grown until now all his world was here with her this moment.

"Don't talk," he whispered. "Just let me hold you before the world finds us again and I must return to sanity."

Tears ran down her cheeks, spilling against his throat and shoulder. His face moved against her hair as he felt its warm silkiness. Her heart pounded beneath her breasts, keeping rhythm with his own. There would be time for questions later; now all he needed, all he wanted, was in his arms.

She pulled her head back, looking full into his face. "This is no dream," she whispered in her Southern voice, which reminded him of all the gentleness of his mother. Raising her hand, she touched his cheek and jaw-line and he wanted to laugh with pure joy. The firelight danced in her warm eyes and set aflame his need.

Hunter bent and kissed Perry deeper than before, his mouth parting her lips. As the kiss lingered, he felt her body mold against him with its own longing.

The flame traveled down her face, burning her cheeks as it moved to her breasts. She ached with desire for him. She spread her hands into his hair and laughed with ecstasy. How many hundreds of times had she longed to touch him? Now he was beside her. "It's not a dream," she whispered again, finally glad he could know she was real.

Hunter's hands moved slowly up and down her back, sending through her a pleasure so great, she feared she might explode from it. With each stroke Hunter's hands went lower, until they covered her hips with fire. His muscular body molded into her softness and Perry felt the need of his manhood press against her stomach.

She sensed Hunter pulling her to him as his hands rested on her hips. She knew nothing of lovemaking, but she knew she wanted him. She wanted him in the very depth of her being. Her body pressed instinctively against him, drawn to the warmth of his body.

Putting his hands on her shoulders, he pushed her a few inches from him. "I'll love you on this rug if you like, but we'd be more comfortable in bed." Passion had made his voice low, and she found it both exciting and frightening. She shivered as he stood and pulled her up into his arms.

Her mind refused to think rationally. For one moment in time she wanted to float on the passions of her dreams. Closing her eyes, she rested her hand on his shoulder as he played with the buttons of her nightgown. They gave willingly to Hunter's touch, as willingly as she came to him.

She heard his sharp intake of breath as he opened her gown. Looking up, she saw the fire of his desire in his smoldering gray eyes.

He reached down, cupping one breast lovingly in his hand. "My God, how can one woman be so beautiful? My mind tells me I'm awake, yet my eyes tell me I'm dreaming. I can still hardly believe you've been so near and I thought you were only a dream." He bent and kissed each breast before returning to Perry's lips with a demanding kiss.

She heard his low moan as his tongue circled her lips and tasted her mouth. Perry opened to him as a flower opens to the sun. His kiss grew more demanding as she pressed against him, wanting to melt into him. Wanting to be as much a part of him physically as she had been emotionally for every moment since they'd met.

Hunter lifted her into his arms and walked the few steps to her bed. He carefully laid her down, as though she were a priceless doll. "Now isn't that better than the floor, Molly," he said as he began unbuttoning his shirt, never taking his eyes from her.

Perry raised on her elbow, a look of worry on her face. "My name's not Molly," she began. Why would he call her by another name?

"Now there's no need to play coy. I've figured it all out. It doesn't matter to me how you earned your living during the war. I want you so much, I'm willing to pay whatever you ask. Lord knows how you can keep those innocent eyes." He continued undressing. "I met a poor farm girl with eyes like yours once. Until a few minutes ago I thought you were only a fantasy. When I stepped to your door and saw my angel sitting before me, I could not believe you were real. So name your fee, lady, it's yours."

Hunter turned to place his shirt on a chair. His hand was trembling with the excitement of being near such a flawless wonder. He really didn't care that she was a prostitute; he had dreamed of her since he'd been injured. He realized now he must have seen her sometime before, and her image had become his model for perfection.

When he turned back to the bed, she was gone. For an instant he thought she still might have been only a dream.

Glancing around, he saw her standing by the windows beside a large dresser. Relief was evident in his face as he watched her draw something from a desk. She turned to face him, her huge brown eyes filled with pain, a small gun in her hand.

She didn't know what kind of game Hunter was playing, but she wanted no part of it. "I'm not Molly. I nursed you when I found you during the war. I lay beside you in the barn loft to give you my body's heat. I fought death with you. Last month I had to leave my home and you helped me." Her words were coming in gulps now as she backed away from him like a frightened animal. "You are the only man who has ever touched me. I thought I was bound to you-that we were forever a part of each other. I cannot believe I almost made love with you when I mean nothing more to you than a paid attraction."

Hunter's mind spun. The whiskey, the bump on his head, Jennifer's unfaithfulness, and now this. He tried to think of what to say. "Does it matter? You're here and I've dreamed of you for so long. I want you like I've never wanted another woman. I ache now from wanting you."

Hunter moved toward her. He watched her clutch her nightgown tightly together with one hand as she held the small pistol in the other. Her beauty intoxicated him, drawing him to her. The danger mattered little. He could still taste her kiss on his tongue, and he knew he was drunk on her loveliness.

"Stay back, Hunter," she said. He could see the hurt in her eyes, the fear, and something else… determination. The pain in her eyes shot through his very heart, hurting him far more than any bullet she might fire at him.

"I'll shoot you if you come any closer," she said as she lifted her chin and blinked the tears from her eyes. His hard chest glowed in the firelight and she longed to run her fingers over the soft hair covering his body. But she could not, would not, give herself so cheaply.

"What do you want from me?" Hunter asked, frustrated. The muscle rippled over his jawline, reminding her of his strong will.

"I wanted your love, but now I only want your absence," she ordered as they heard voices from Molly's room.

In an instant she vanished from Hunter's sight. In complete darkness she ran through the connecting door to the small office, across the office, and into the hall.

Hunter heard Abram calling him as he darted after her.

"I'm here, Abram!" he shouted as he grabbed his clothes and began dressing. Abram and Luke appeared in the doorway. They were both rain-soaked and muddy.

"Where's Miss Perry?" Luke demanded as his eyes searched the room.

Hunter nodded at Abram, noticing Abram did not return his greeting. Stone-faced, both men stood in the doorway watching Hunter dress.

"Sir, I asked you a question. Where is Miss Perry?" Luke drew himself up and clenched his fists. "If you've harmed her, I'll break you into so many pieces, they'll not find enough to bury."

"Slow down, Luke," Abram said as he placed his arm across the other man's chest. Luke's anger vibrated from his huge frame. "We'll get the answers."

"Is this man a madman? Need you hold him back, Abram?" Hunter asked as he buttoned his shirt. "Surely he can't be seriously thinking to do me harm."

"No, Hunter." Abram's words slapped Hunter. "I'll not hold him back unless you answer his question. If you've hurt Miss Perry, I'm planning to help him. I know you well, but it looks very bad with you standin' here in her room putting your clothes on."

"Now I know you're mad!" Hunter backed up until he sat on the bed. He lowered his head and thought for a long minute. What a crazy night this had been, and now his best friend was about to turn against him. As Hunter realized how badly he had misjudged Perry, he couldn't blame Luke and Abram for reacting so violently. He raised his gray eyes to the two men before him and spoke honestly. "I wish you both would knock some sense into me. I won't even fight back. I mistook Perry for another kind of woman. I hurt her very deeply. She ran out of here crying. Before you beat me to a pulp, can I find her and at least say I'm sorry?"