The opposite of him.
Shit, it was dark out here. He reached to yank off his goggles, surprised to find that he wasn’t wearing them.
So, what the hell was—
A long, slow scan of the horizon confirmed what his eyes were trying to tell him: the sun was setting, melting into the earth like the world’s longest-burning candle.
Night had come to Antarctica.
He threw down the shovel, grabbed the bucket of ice, and stomped back inside to tell her about the sunset.
He shut the door and opened his mouth. “I like you.” Not what he’d planned to say.
She stopped what she was doing. “I like you, too.” Her words came out slower than his, more careful.
“Okay.” Relief spread through him, warm and slow. “Here.” He set the ice down, overcome by an absurd flash of himself as a caveman, throwing some freshly killed beast at his woman’s feet. An offering. “Make water. For you.”
Jesus, how eloquent. He rubbed his hand over his face, surprised to hear the tinkle of frost falling from his beard to the floor. He hadn’t been out there long enough to freeze over, had he?
Probably.
Goddamn, he was screwed, in ways he didn’t even understand.
“Be right back.” He threw open the door and paused at the explosion of color. Wait. He’d meant to show her. “Look, Angel.”
With a gasp, she hurried to his side. “It’s like a painting.”
He nodded. The colors sizzled on the surface, looking hot enough to burn a hole in the earth, but the second they disappeared, the temperature would drop. Thankfully for just a couple hours tonight, then more the next night and the next. Eventually, it would dip below the horizon and wouldn’t come back up until spring. Close to four months of darkness.
Did she know how cold it would get now? Did she understand how lucky they were to have found this place today of all days?
A glance at the awe on her expressive face told him that she knew.
Another wave of protectiveness overtook him and he moved to close the door, to keep the heat in, to keep her safe. “I’ll get more ice.” At her nod, he stepped outside, calmer than before, more accepting of his emotions, though he couldn’t begin to control them any more than he could stop the sun from setting.
He didn’t believe in fate or a higher power or any of that other crap, but something had brought them together here and now.
Inevitable. That was how it felt. And he was tired of fighting it. He wouldn’t win. He couldn’t. Not against this unavoidable pull. Even now, with a metal wall between them, he felt her tug, as sure as gravity, as inexorable as the ebb and flow of the tides.
As the last rays of light faded from the sky, he took his bucket and went back inside, floating on a warm wave of surrender.
Chapter 36
She was behind a curtain, taking a sponge bath. This would have been fine if she didn’t groan. In pleasure, Coop thought, though he stilled, head tilted, and waited for confirmation.
Within seconds, he was pure steel, big and heavy and hungry.
There’d been no room for lust in the enforced closeness of the tent. Here, though, in seconds, it overflowed, overwhelmed, overstimulated.
He collapsed into a chair and put his hands to his ears. He needed earplugs so he could stop hearing those noises. So he could stop picturing her back there, all warm and wet and fresh-smelling. Ready.
What felt like hours later, but was probably about eight minutes, she emerged, looking scrubbed and relaxed, rosy and happy. It was all he could do not to take her into his arms and soak some of that in.
Without a word, he grabbed his only change of clothes, the pan of freshly warmed water, and went behind the curtain to take care of his own business.
Which was even more of a nightmare than he’d imagined, because no matter what he did, he couldn’t get his erection to go down. He swiped himself with soap and choked back a noise. Another swipe, another sound barely swallowed.
Had she been doing this back here? Touching her own skin for the first time in days and reveling in it? Were her nerve endings this sensitive to every little thing? He could swear he felt the individual soap bubbles popping against his goose-bumped skin. Heavenly torture.
