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Sky streaked past his windscreen, jungle below blooming with secondary explosions. He didn't doubt for a minute he could nail those narrow-margin bomb targets and hold off the enemy until rescue came for the pinned-down Rangers. As long as his pilot didn't blink.

He'd expected to walk her through the rough stuff on her first mission in Cantou, play the senior officer role. But she was holding up her end of the team spirit with twenty Rangers on the ground counting on them.

He'd been paired with her because of his experience in the cockpit. Her two-star daddy kept his eye on his kids — even when they didn't need it. And Vogue definitely didn't need slack. Her even breaths echoed in his helmet at a steady pace with his own.

She had plenty of stick time and skill, but the true test didn't come until that first hairy combat mission.

This one more than qualified and she was hanging tough, leaving him free to concentrate on his job.

Laser squirt. Target set. He launched his last GBU. Shack.

The victory was short lived since now their bombs had been depleted. "We're Winchester bombs," he announced, clipping updates to the commander on the ground. "All we've got left is about four passes of a twenty mike-mike." A twenty-millimeter mounted for a strafing run — a low level run with the pilot shooting the Gatling gun cannon at targets. Definitely hairy flying, especially while shooting.

Time to put Vogue's feet to the fire.

His headset crackled with the response from the ground. "Roger that," the Ranger commander answered, machine guns rat-tat-tatting in the distance. "We're taking a lot of fire from the north-south tree line.

Three hundred meters west of our position."

"Copy. Help on the way. Descending now." In concert with his call, Vogue dipped the nose of the F-15, catapulting them into the same fire that had downed the helicopter full of Rangers.

Bullets spit from their F-15 toward the ground. An enemy vehicle exploded. They were so damned close he could see a vehicle door fly to the side and slap the ground.

The plane slowed, swooped, turned inward into the spiral to reverse the negative G-forces into a more manageable positive level. Josh felt his G-suit compression pants inflate along his legs, pushing blood back up to his head so he wouldn't lose consciousness.

His fingers flew over his control panel, eyes scanning the sky, all the while he snapped updates through the headset, filtered information from the ground to Alicia—Vogue. Not Alicia. Damn, where was his head?

The pressure of G-forces increased. He fought against the fog, worked the blood back up to his head.

Vogue's voice popped requests and questions between labored breaths. Slowly the figures in mottled cammo morphed, transforming into jeans-clad students at desks.

In the middle of the jungle?

That didn't make sense. They'd saved those Rangers and been awarded a Silver Star for the mission.

Except when had dreams ever made sense or allowed their victims control?

Josh grappled for consciousness even while the nightmare sucked him deeper into a past with guns blazing in a time when no amount of confidence or training could save anyone. Except he took Alicia with him, and now there was plenty of blood everywhere.

Bullets tore into the ground. Faster, in circles. Faster still. Cycloning mud and blood up. Spiraling toward Alicia. And there wasn't a damned thing he could do to save her.

Her husky tones and heavy breaths filled his mind. "Josh? Where are you? Come on back to me...."

"Josh?" Alicia nudged her sleeping husband's bare shoulder. Gently. Definitely gently. She knew enough about combat nightmares to be wary of startling somebody in the grips of one. His mumbled radio calls and flight lingo left her in no doubt. He was deep in battle mode. "Where are you? Come on back to me.

We're here. In Alaska. Safe."

For now.

She stroked over his shoulder, down his arm to either ease him awake or soothe him into more peaceful dreams. How long had they been asleep? Was it Christmas Eve yet? No light filtered through the lone window. Low embers glowed from the fire, the murky dark shrouding the metal hut with intimacy.

Alicia continued to caress his shoulder and mutter shushing noises. Muscles bulged under her touch, launching a tingling shower through her while she was still too sleep-woozy to resist. Oh, boy.

She'd really expected them to have sex after his sensual hair wash. She'd actually hoped he would wash away the memories with his body against hers. His arousal had been more than obvious. She'd been more than a little turned on herself, and yet he'd shut her down. Fast. So what if he was being practical?

She didn't want him to feel
practical
around her.

Alicia jabbed his ankle with her toe. Josh bolted upright. She jerked back, flinched. His eyes snapped open. Blinking, his chest heaving, he scrubbed his hands over his face.

Guilt tweaked her. She was being selfish. He was right to keep his distance if just talking to her brought nightmares.

Sheesh. Like they needed any more complications in their relationship.

She forked her fingers through her dried-crazy hair and decided it probably didn't look any wilder than when she tousled it with gel. And why was she worrying about her appearance, anyway?

Duh.

Because of Josh, whose close-cropped black hair looked just fine. Great, for that matter—right over a brow still furrowed. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just hate the way dreams are so damned illogical." He scratched his chest absently. Did he have to keep drawing attention to those hunky pecs if he didn't intend to let her touch them? "It's like the cosmos is playing a big trick on me when I don't have my brain engaged to override it. Which is a lame thing to think since it's my brain doing the dreaming. I just need to clear my head."

He flipped back the sleeping bag and stood, leaving a cold draft beside her. Inside her as well. She watched while he stoked the fire to life, adding more wood from the two large stacks beside the cast-iron stove. Flames flickered higher, bronzing his already tanned skin in an amber glow.

Heat blossomed from the grate over her.

She needed to know how he felt about what she'd told him, even if it hurt. "Is what I said earlier freaking you out?"

He jerked to face her. "No. Absolutely not. Well, not the way you're implying, anyway."

"In what way, then?"

She could all but see the wheels turning in his head as he struggled for words to corral thoughts bigger than simple language allowed. "And could you please, please come back into the sleeping bag before you freeze your cute butt off."

Shadows flicked over the smile playing at his mouth. "There you go, surprising me again."

But he didn't argue, instead slipping those long, corded legs into the cottony warmth beside her. Gulp.

"Uh, Josh? In what way have I freaked you out?"

"I've always trusted that you could hold your own in the air, but this isn't about flying. And before you go getting your back up, I really mean that. I'm okay with your fighting in combat. That's work, and you're trained."

"Then what do you mean?"

"This other thing going on...it's not about work." He stared into the open grate, flames licking higher, sparking from the logs. "I'm a man, damn it. Your husband. Call it Cro-Magnon, but it's tough for me to accept there's no way I can right this wrong done to you. Hell, give me somebody to punch or a target to take out. I'm having trouble not being able to fight back. That's why I joined the Air Force after the crap that happened in college. I needed to defend." He shook his head. "I know, I know. It doesn't make any sense. This should be about you, anyhow, not about me."

She admired the way he'd found to make something positive out of something so awful. If only she could have managed the same.

"What you're saying makes total sense. And I've pulled you into this, so it's definitely about you, too."

She hugged her knees to her chest, resting her chin on them. "It was strange afterward. I wanted him to come back to life so I could file charges with the police. I wanted to take that bastard to court and make him pay, have a role in putting him away so he never hurt anyone again. By protecting others from him, it would somehow make up for not being able to protect myself. So yeah, I understand."

She'd just never expected him to understand, not her invincible husband. Something warm unfurled inside her, relaxed and spread as he became a bit more human in her eyes.

Very human. And hunky. With the sleeping bag pooled around his waist, there was still plenty of naked Josh left for her eyes to feast on faster than a holiday dinner.

She tried to remember the reasons they'd split, why she shouldn't reach and explore the rough texture of dark hair sprinkled across his muscular pecs. She really tried not to think of splaying her fingers along the ridges of his flat belly.

Tried. Unsuccessfully.

Her mind reeled with images of doing each of those things and much more in the past. Yet all those undeniably erotic memories didn't come close to arousing her as much as simply gazing at him now, boundaries lowered. No secrets between them.

A little voice niggled in the back of her head, reminding her that she'd only shared her secrets with him when pressed to the wall and surely that said things about their relationship she didn't want to think about.

Not now.

With the storm raging outside, the world on hold but threats still looming, she wanted to take this moment. Explore this deepening sensation.

Explore her husband.

Restraints snapped in her mind and she winged a silent cheer that they didn't have to worry about birth control thanks to her Norplant. Her hand floated up, gliding to a perfect landing on Josh's chest. A spark tingled through her fingertips, up her arm, singed deep in her stomach, and at just one touch. How much more could she have?

He clamped her wrist. But he didn't move her away. "Alicia," he growled. "This isn't smart."

"Maybe for once I'm smarter than you are. Or wiser at least. Wisdom is more important than smarts, don't you think?"

She flipped her hand to twine her fingers with his. Gliding forward, she trapped their linked hands between them, her breasts flattening against the warm, hard wall of his chest. Her body writhed of its own volition in a sinuous arch against him, bringing her lips closer.

"I think you want me, too," she whispered against his mouth before her other hand slid to his lap and found... Oh, yeah. Her smile caressed him. "I
know
you want me."

"That's never been in question."

"Then what is it?"

"Your timing. I'm not clear on your reasoning."

Great. She wanted Josh and he wanted logic.

Still, with the throbbing evidence of his arousal under her hand, she couldn't help but be touched by the fact that he was holding back for her. "I wish I could give you some fabulously brilliant Einstein-esque explanation, but I can't. I only know that this life-and-death-struggle business has pushed aside boundaries for me. Will they be in place again once we return to the real world? I hope not. But what if we don't get the chance to find out? What if now is all we have? I want now, Josh. I want you."

His already impressive arousal twitched in her hand, which she took as a definite endorsement to continue. She stroked upward to his chest until her palm landed on his heart again, perhaps just as strong an indicator of his intent as his erection.

"And how can you be sure this is right for you?" he asked, his heart slugging against her fingers.

"Maybe there's something liberating about knowing you don't have certain—" awkward moment alert! "

—physical expectations from me. It seems like now I can just enjoy what I enjoy, the process, and not worry about the rest. While I know this isn't the most festive of settings, something about the season just makes me hopeful that maybe we can work things out. Could we try to believe that for now?"

His heart continued to thud an affirmative against her fingers. If only his brain and mouth would join in.

Alicia watched the war in his bottle-green eyes, until... She saw that glint, the glimmer of a man challenged.
Yes.
She canted forward.

He raised a hand between them. "We need to set some ground rules."

Good God, the man was going to talk her to death. What in the world was up with that? A guy wanting to talk while the woman wanted to jump in the sack before she had time to think. "Why can't we be impulsive? You're messing with the mood here."

He trailed a lone finger along the length of her nose, down to tap the upturned tip. "The mood's going to take care of itself just fine in a few minutes."

"Really?" She wanted to believe that. So much.

"Yes. But not if we go about this the same way we have before."

"I'm not following you."

"Before, you kept secrets. I may be a few IQ points ahead of the rest of the curve, but I'm not a mind reader. I need you to tell me what you want."

Big-time awkward alert. "But you're experienced."

He didn't deny it, the jerk. "The most important thing a guy can learn from experience is that every woman is different. And by the way, I don't want to talk about any other woman except you."

Okay, not a total jerk. "Fair enough. I'm not interested in hearing about them, either."

"Good. Now, on to my ground rules before either of us ends up on our back." His emerald eyes flashed with a sensual intent that seared her from the inside out. "No secrets. Tell me what you want. Exactly. In detail."

Gulp. "What about you?"

"I can guarantee that the sound of your voice telling me what your body craves will be damned near enough to send me over the edge."

Her heart rate stuttered. "Maybe I'm not sure what I want." She forced herself not to look away—or fidget—or do any of those telling vulnerable impulses itching at her. "I know you don't want to talk about past experience or who else we've been with, but there hasn't been that much for me. Just him, and one other before, uh, briefly."

She risked a glance up and caught the quick flash of surprise an instant before he smoothed his angular features.