The loaf of bread was gone. The wine bottle held only dregs. Harmony rose from the table gratefully, glad to unbend and be able to take a deep breath. It caught in her throat when Anthony walked right up to her and put his hands around her waist. “Not an inch bigger, by golly. Where’d you put all that?” A giggle erupted from Harmony’s lips. Anthony’s grin widened. Then, suddenly, the two of them found themselves caught in the throes of helpless laughter. They fell onto the cushions of the couch, holding their sides and gasping for breath. Anthony was the first to recover. “Damn. You’re not only the prettiest hostage I’ve ever taken, or the most sweet-natured, but the best humored, too. Maybe I won’t give you back after all.” Harmony sobered abruptly. She had managed to forget for a time that she was, indeed, only his prisoner. That time was over. “Harmony,” Anthony said, grin faded, “what’s the matter? What’s wrong?” “Nothing.” Harmony shook her head.
