"Sully!"  she whispered again as he drew away from her.  "Is it safe?"

     "Shhh," he hushed her, laying his fingertips across her lips.  "It's all right—the road was clear.  Besides," he added, drawing her to her feet and slipping his arms around her, "I been thinkin' about you all day.  I just had to see you—to hold you."  His voice was low, husky—signaling the kindling of his desire.  He bent his head and began to kiss the side of her throat.

     Michaela clung to him, eyes closed.  She arched her neck, reveling in the sensation of his lips caressing her skin.

     "I've been thinking of you too," she gasped softly.  "So much!"

     "Sounds like we've both been needin' some holdin'," Sully murmured, the warmth of his breath tickling her ear.

     He drew back and smoothed the hair away from her temples, his eyes thirstily drinking in every detail of her features.  One finger delicately traced the curve of her cheekbone down to her slightly parted lips. "You are so beautiful, Michaela."  Then, twining his fingers in her hair, he pulled her to him again and closed his mouth over hers.

     As Michaela felt the familiar heat of passion start to burn within her, she forgot everything except her need to be as close to Sully as possible.  Together they sank to the rug and knelt before the fire.  Sully's hands played over her body, his fingers leaving tiny trails of fire in their wake.

     Slowly, deliberately, Sully began to unfasten the buttons of her blouse.  He eased the fabric down off her shoulders, freed her arms from the sleeves, then gently laid the blouse aside, her eyes never once leaving her face.  For a moment he was still, admiring the creaminess of her skin in the flickering light.  Then, just as slowly, he reached out to push down the straps of her camisole.  Michaela, her eyes locked with his, finished removing the garment, and her husband gazed with wonder at the beauty of her nude form.  Delicately, almost reverently, he bent to kiss the hollow between the swell of her breasts, and Michaela gave a tiny gasp of pleasure at the sensation of electricity that shot through her.

     She, in her turn, reached out and pulled the hem of his shirt free, and slipped her hands underneath, caressing the muscular hardness of his chest.  With one quick movement he pulled his shirt off over his head and cast it away.  His bronzed skin glowed in the firelight. Her eyes traveled over his broad shoulders and the breadth of his chest, tapering to his narrow waist.  Desire made her breath catch in her throat.  She ran her fingers over his chest, and felt his heart pounding beneath her hand.

     Sully reached out and wrapped his arms around her, crushing her against him.  Michaela clung to him tightly, and then slowly, he lowered her to the floor.  He covered her face and throat with delicate kisses, his long, golden hair framing her face like a curtain. Michaela felt as if she were drowning in an ocean of sensation.  Eyes closed, she gave herself up to the exquisite pleasure of Sully's body against hers.

     They moved together, and the firelight cast their mingled shadows on the wall.

* * * * * * * * * *

     An unknown time later, they lay wrapped together in the blanket, their limbs intertwined, a fine sheen of perspiration dewing their skin.

     "It feels so lovely lying here in your arms," Michaela said softly, her finger tracing the golden-brown tendrils of hair on his chest.  Sully took her hand in his and kissed her palm.

     "All I want is for us to be together," he said softly, echoing the words he had said  during his first
*stolen* visit to her at the homestead after recovering from his accident.  Then, as now, he had suddenly, silently appeared, taking her unawares—only that time he had been waiting for her in their bedroom.  She remembered how he had swept her up into his arms and laid her gently on the bed, tender and yet so strong.  Michaela sighed with love and contentment.   The memory was sweet, like these moments they were sharing now.

     "You have such an overpowering effect on me," she said.  "I forget about everything else when I'm with you."

     Sully's lips nuzzled her shoulder.  "You have quite an effect on me too," he said.  "You come a long way from that lady who was afraid to even kiss me when we was courtin'!"

     "You have only yourself to blame," Michaela told him.  "You've corrupted me!"

     Sully laughed softly.  "You complainin'?" he teased.

     "Never," Michaela said, smiling at him seductively.  "Please, corrupt me again!"

     Sully rolled over so that he was balanced above her.  He grinned down into her face.  "My pleasure, Ma'am!"  He lowered himself onto her gently, and time spun out again as they came together.

     Still later, as Sully twined a strand of her hair around and around  his finger, he said, "You know, I'm gonna have to carve you a new shingle:  'Michaela Quinn, Wanton Woman!'"

     "Sully!" she exclaimed, her cheeks flaming.  He chuckled, and then rolled away to reach for the fireplace poker.  He knelt by the hearth, stirring up the embers of the guttering flames.  Michaela watched him languidly, admiring the graceful lines of his body.  Her eyes trailed across the muscles of his back, and the swell of the biceps in his arms.  His gold-brown hair spilled over his shoulders and gleamed in the firelight.  As familiar as his body had become to her, she never tired of gazing at it. These days, in particular, she felt that she needed to store up every detail in her mind, to sustain her during the times they were apart.

     The thought of the coming dawn, when he would have to leave her and steal back to the cave, reminded her that she needed to speak to him about Rosalind.  There was so much to tell, and not very much time.  She glanced to where Rosalind's cameo still rested on the table between the wing chairs.  Sully hadn't noticed it.  While his back remained turned, she reached out and grasped it, concealing it beneath the blanket which covered her.

     "How much longer can you stay?" she asked.

    Sully returned to her side and looked toward the windows.  They were still dark—the first pink streaks of dawn hadn't yet appeared in the sky.

     "I got some time yet," he said, and drew her into his lap.  She leaned back against his chest, and his arms encircled her.

     "So how have you all been doin'?" he asked.  "Have you been gettin' along all right?"
 
     "We've been managing fine," she told him.  "Matthew and Brian have been doing a wonderful job caring for the homestead, and everyone is well."
 
     "How's Katie?" Sully asked, eager for information about the little daughter he adored.

     "She's wonderful," said Michaela.  "Healthy, thriving, and toddling everywhere.  She nearly said Brian's name yesterday!  And she says 'Pa" all the time now, Sully!  I can't wait for you to hear her say it."

     "I can't wait either," he said yearningly. "I miss her—I miss you all!--so much.   She must be so
confused, wonderin' where her papa is.  I feel so bad, not bein' here where I belong, makin' you manage
all alone.  What if there were trouble, and I didn't know?"  His face was shadowed with guilt.

     Michaela's heart squeezed with pain at his anguish.  She shifted in his arms to face him.  Stroking  his cheek, she said soothingly, "Please don't punish yourself like this, Sully.  You have enough burdens, without worrying about us as well.  As I told you, we're fine, truly.  Of course we miss you terribly, but at least we can visit each other, just as you're doing now.  And as for Katie, she's still so young.  She probably won't even remember all this when she's older.  And she knows how much you love her.  She feels it every day of her life, even if you can't be here to tell her in person."

     He looked at her gratefully, but Michaela could see that he remained deeply troubled.  "You're tryin' to make me feel better, and I love you for it, but I can't stop thinkin' about all I put you through because of what I done.  Makin' you suffer, thinkin' I might be dead.  Leavin' you here to get by on your own, makin' you  lie to our friends, not bein' here to be a proper husband to you, or a father to our kids.  It ain't right that you're payin' the price for my mistakes."

     "It seems to me that *you're* the one who's paying the price," she told him.  "Sully, you nearly paid with your life!  I confess that I was angry when I first learned about your part in the escape attempt at the reservation—because you didn't confide in me, or let me share in your decision.  But I quickly realized that you did what you had to, for Cloud Dancing's sake.  He was suffering—he probably would have died if you haven't helped him."

     "He's alive, but he ain't free," Sully said.  "I wonder if I done him any favors.  Now he's a fugitive, and I got charges of murder and treason on my head.  I don't know what the future holds, Michaela—I could wind up in prison for the rest of my days.  What's that gonna do to you, and the kids?"

     "You faced a prison sentence once before,," she reminded him.  "And we got through that.  We're going to get through this as well.  Somehow we'll find a way to clear your name, Sully.

     "All that matters is that you're alive and that you're well.  I thought for a while that I had lost you forever!--and it felt as if my heart had been ripped from me.  But God kept you alive till we could find you, and I'll always be grateful.  We're together Sully—and together we can do anything!  We'll get through this—I promise!"  Her eyes shone with love, and overcome with emotion, he buried his face in her hair and hugged her tightly.

     "I'm so lucky to have you Michaela," he whispered.  "Maybe God or the spirits helped, but it was the thought of you waitin' for me that kept me alive—‘cause I couldn't live without you!"