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style that was so evident in Southwestern buildings. The hotel wings extended on either side of a stunning, three-story glass-and-stone lobby. As Ozzie turned off the main road and up a wide drive, Amber saw the entrance to an extensive, wonderfully green golf course. On the other side of the drive several tennis courts were being utilized by players in perky little outfits. There was also a riding stable available, Amber knew, and a large pool.
    "Welcome to the Inn of the Desert Flame, the most complete resort in the Southwest," Ozzie said with a proud grin as he slid the big car to a halt in front of the lobby. "Everything you want or need is available on the premises. Three restaurants, a lounge, shops and a friendly staff. Enjoy your stay. Mr. Delaney will be glad to know you've arrived."
    Amber leaned close to Gray and asked in a low whisper, "Who's Mr. Delaney?"
    "Victor Delaney is the owner. He's the one trying to sell the place to Symington's group of investors." Gray stepped out of the limo and reached back inside for Amber's hand. "Things have changed since Twitchell's time." He glanced around at the opulent resort.
    "Thank heavens," Amber murmured as she slipped out of the car to stand beside him. "I think I prefer my desert complete with indoor plumbing, swimming pool and air-conditioning."
    Just then the glass doors in the lobby entrance slid open and a tall, slim, balding man in his late forties strode forth with an extended hand and a ready smile. Everyone seemed to smile a lot around here, Amber thought.
    "Glad to see you, Mr. and Mrs. Grayson. I'm Vie Delaney. I hope you enjoy your stay." Delaney shook hands with the enthusiasm of a professional host, but there was no doubt about the genuineness of his greeting. He, too, was tanned and wore a sporty short-sleeved shirt. But instead of jeans he had on a pair of expensive, casual slacks. He wore white leather moccasins and a matching white leather belt. There was an air of exuberant vitality about him that was meant to be contagious. Amber had frequently met his sort in the advertising world. It was obvious Vie Delaney had been in the resort business a long time. "I certainly hope you find everything in order. The staff is anxious to please, so feel free to call on anyone at any time. I'm looking forward to doing business with you, Cormick."
    "Call me Gray." Gray accepted the handshake with a polite nod. Then he slid a hand possessively under Amber's arm. "My wife and I are looking forward to our stay."
    "Right this way," Delaney said, leading them into the lobby. "I'll have someone show you to your rooms at once." He nodded toward another sandy-haired, tanned young man in a short-sleeved shirt. "Roger, these are the Graysons. I've already taken care of the paperwork. Show them upstairs, will you? One of the bellboys can bring the luggage later."
    "You bet, Mr. Delaney. Right this way, please." The young man named Roger came forward with alacrity.
    Perhaps there was something in the desert air that bred this particular species of tanned, sandy-haired young specimen of manhood. Amber thought as she and Gray followed Roger to the elevators. Roger and Ozzie could have been twins. Both appeared to be in their late twenties and both appeared to spend time working out in a well-equipped gym. They were lean and fit and strongly muscled at the shoulders, and they smiled a lot.
    Roger chatted with them in the elevator, asking the usual polite questions about their flight. Amber did most of the answering. The young man seemed to bore Gray. She slid a sidelong glance at her new husband as she stepped out of the elevator and into a carpeted hallway. Gray had not only slipped into one of his quiet moods, he had also gone a little grim. Amber wondered what he was thinking.
    A moment later blue-eyed Roger threw open the door of a suite at the end of the hall, and Amber stopped worrying about whatever it was that was preoccupying Gray.
    The suite was beautiful. It had a