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home in Juarez, Mexico.
    Rogue Walker.
    He seemed so kind and genuine. And he’d made her so many promises.
    The man she’d found in this small American town was nothing like she’d hoped. She’d expected him to welcome her, take her in his home and build a life with her. After all, she had nothing to go back to. Her family was gone, her sister was missing, most likely dead. The lost girls of Juarez had another name added to their long sad list. Lucia was very afraid that if she returned to Juarez, she’d be next to go missing.
    In the last few years, over seven hundred young women had gone missing–murdered. Their bodies found later abused and mutilated. Pink crosses dotted the city, all commemorating where the battered body of a victim was found. Lucia wiped the tears from her face. She’d sold everything she had, taken the money he’d wired and walked away from all she’d known. Why didn’t he want her?
    Hugging herself tightly, she looked around the bare room. The owner of the saloon had taken pity on her, giving her a waitress job and this bed to sleep in. Lucia had assured him that this was temporary, she’d come to take her place as Rogue Walker’s wife. Making the sign of the cross over her heart, she offered up a prayer that this would all work out.
    Lucia had no choice but to have faith. The people at D. Walker Mineral said that Rogue would return in a week.
    She’d be waiting.
     
    *  *  *
    Out in the Caribbean, Kit peered out the porthole of their cabin. She wouldn’t go out on the balcony. The sight of the endless ocean made her shake. Pinching herself, she vowed to get it together. Rogue was having a great time, and she’d be damned if she was going to ruin it for him. He made every show, every stand-up comedian, each and every production. And he ate…and ate. Oh, and he made her feel like the only woman in the world, making love to her at every opportunity. Anyone else would be having a blast.
    Not Kit.
    She was too busy looking for icebergs.
    Even she was amused at her absurd paranoia. But…part of her reasoned, global warming was a factor. You never know. She wondered if she might go to the Captain and volunteer for iceberg watching duty. Passing a hand over her eyes, Kit laughed at herself. But just knowing they were out in the ocean with water on all sides and so deep below, she almost quaked in her boots. This ship that had seemed so big when she first saw it at the dock now seemed to be just an isolated dot in an endless sea of blue.
    At the moment, Rogue was working out in the gym. He said he’d eaten so much and planned to eat more, burning calories on the machines was his way of compensating. Kit had spent as much time in the casino as she could stomach, pumping nickels and quarters in the one armed bandit wasn’t her idea of fun.
    What was going well were the wedding plans. She’d spoken to the Captain and he’d told her that the staff would only need a few hours’ notice to have a beautiful setting arranged for them, complete with flowers and a musician. Apparently he loved to officiate at weddings at sea. Now, all she had to do was work up the courage to propose.
    Rogue had already proposed, but no date had been set. She had decided to perform her own little ceremony to show him how much she wanted to be his wife. If he consented, they’d debark in Galveston in a few days as Mr. and Mrs. Rogue Walker.
    But for now, she was meeting her man for dinner. She’d taken extra care with her appearance tonight. As usual, she stood in front of the mirror while applying makeup and criticized her face. A little too narrow, her nose a tad too long, her lips a little on the thin side. Horse-face . Kit still remembered the insult she’d heard in her youth, even once from Rogue’s own lips. A stab of pain briefly caused her to inhale sharply. Shaking her head, she fluffed her hair. Those days were gone. Rogue had been young, angry–he’d apologized a thousand times and now told her how