Lying back on the pillow, she closed her eyes, and a vision of him quickly sprang to mind. Every curve of his nose, his jaw, his mouth had become so ingrained in her, it was almost as if he was still in the room with her.

Her body tingled with the memory of all that had happened between them, and she flushed anew.

Stretching, she counted the hours until she would be back in his arms and smiled. She was Chase McKnight’s wife. He was her husband. Really and truly her husband.

The thought sent waves of happiness rushing through her. Not even the nagging feeling that something bad was about to happen could take away the pleasure she felt. Today was the day to bask in the lingering memories that filled her with such joy. The rest would have to wait.

* * *

Seated at his desk, Chase rubbed his bristly chin and stared at the newspaper his uncle had just thrust in his hands. After spending the night in Emily’s arms, he was in no mood to deal with problems.

What he wanted was to go back to their room and wake Emily with his kisses. He wanted to crawl back in bed with her and—

His uncle’s impatient voice cut through Chase’s thoughts. “Well?”

Chase shook the vision of Emily from his head. “Why are you showing me this?”

His uncle stopped pacing, a puzzled look on his face. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing.”

“Then read it!”

Chase scanned the headlines, and the name Fields & Fields snapped him to attention. The article was about Harry Fields, who was now serving time in the Charlestown State Prison in Massachusetts.

Chase dropped the paper on his desk. “It’s about time he got what’s coming to him.” After the damage Fields and his company had done to local ranchers—had done to Chase’s own ranch—no prison term would be long enough. Had it not been for Fields, his father would never have been forced to remarry, and Chase wouldn’t have had to fight to keep the ranch. Of course, then he would never have met Emily…

Emily.

Just thinking her name made him marvel at the depth of his feelings. Though it was still only morning, already the minutes away from her seemed like an eternity. For once, he resented the chores that had pulled him from her bed. Resented the hours until he could hold her again.

“Read the rest,” his uncle said, interrupting Chase’s thoughts.

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

Shaking his head, Chase scanned the article and was about to toss the paper aside when his gaze froze on his own name. Sitting forward, he read the paragraph below the boldly printed headline word for word.

Emily Fields, wife of local rancher Chase McKnight, testified that she knew nothing of her uncle’s affairs, but her testimony was put in question when…

Feeling like he’d suddenly been tossed by a raging bull, Chase sat back. Mouth dry, he stared at his uncle, incredulous.