She turned to dig up ice to pile against the fly, but he stopped her, stern, expressionless, and as unrecognizable as a yeti. They were covered in the stuff.
“Go!” Too bone-tired to argue, she flopped inside as fast as she could. A pile of snow had already gathered on the floor of the tent. After shoveling it out with her hands, she set to work melting water for dinner. It wasn’t until he’d crawled in and zipped up behind himself, motioning for her to take off anything wet and get into their sleeping bag, that she let herself relax.
“Hey.”
Her eyes snapped open. Was she sleeping? She didn’t remember sleeping.
“Here.” He slid in beside her, helped prop her up, and handed her a bowl of hot food. She shoveled it back as unconsciously as breathing.
Once it was gone, she put the bowl down and looked at him.
“How bad off are we?”
“We’ve lost most of our supplies. Won’t make it with what we’ve got.” Her insides shrank up as he looked away. “I’m ditching the cores.”
“No!” Her response shocked them both. “You can’t.”
“Why not?” He looked at her like she’d lost her mind.
Had she?
Hanging there in the void, with that solid-butter anchor dragging her into the depths, she’d felt nothing but a base animal fear—sharp and still and piercing. There’d been nothing human until he’d lowered himself in there with her. Even now, she felt changed.
It wasn’t like the fears she’d cycled through when the accident had blown out her knee—that she’d never walk again, never cook again, lose her restaurant, her reason for being. Oh, and the man she’d thought she loved.
This had been a dark, scrabbly, ferocious sensation, from somewhere deep inside.Survive, it demanded.Survive.
Over and over again, this place had done that to her: broken her down into her most basic, vital components. Cells. Nothing but an Angel-shaped combination of cells. And they didn’t want to die.
This time, something else had crawled out of that hole with her, a phoenix from the ashes. It felt dark, though it wasn’t really. It was simple, clean, real, and as pure as this pristine place.Rage. So strong it cauterized her soul, scabbed it up, and gave it purpose.
Those evil bastards wanted the virus? Well, she had it. And she wasn’t giving it up.
“I want to keep the cores” was all she said.
Ford held her eyes for an uncomfortably long while. “All right,” he replied, no questions asked. “We keep the cores.”
She nodded once and looked away, afraid of what he’d see in her face. Gratitude and affection, certainly—after all, she’d grown to like this man—but something else, too. Something she wasn’t ready to examine too closely, though if she was honest, she’d admit that it put an ache in her chest, scraped at her insides, and left her feeling raw.
What made her hide, though, tender as a day-old bruise, was the realization that, of everything they’d gone through on this hellish journey, it wasn’t a near miss or a miracle that pushed her heart over the edge, but that simple acquiescence.
Chapter 29
Coop put his mouth to Angel’s ear. “You warm?”
“Relatively speaking.” Here, inside the sleeping bag, everything was magnified, whisper-close. He’d never sought intimacy before or even been comfortable with it. But this felt good. Inside and out. She felt good. Being alive felt good.
He nudged her with his head, pressed his forehead to hers, and kissed her.
It wasn’t a sexy kiss but something else. Dry, tender, affectionate. Proof of life.
Part of him hated how much emotion crowded his brain right now, pushed out the logic and any semblance of control. Again and again, that moment came back. Angel on the ice and suddenly,poof! Gone.
Recklessness edged under his skin. He pressed harder, more desperately, slid his fingers through her hair, tightened his hold.
The deep, consuming kiss, tongues tangling, pushed noises out of his mouth. Painful against his ruined trachea. There was so much to do. He needed to take stock and figure out how they’d live for over two weeks on less than one week of food, but hell, maybe he could live off of this. Off of her.
He barely noticed his erection at first. Then, like his body’d taken over his brain, he moved against her—a slow, rhythmic press of his pelvis to hers. Not easy in this tiny, confined space, but so satisfying when she opened her legs and gave him access to that warm place, meeting every move with one of her own.
