She could ask him if she was just an escape, a way to get his mind off those worries. A warm pair of arms and an easy distraction. Or if she was more. If they could be more, together.
That last one was a little terrifying.
Could she deal with whatever he was feeling? Was she ready to hear it? If she asked Blake to open that door, she’d have no choice but to face whatever emotions were on the other side. And then, in the name of fairness, she’d have to give him access to her emotional closet, too. That secret place where she stashed all the feelings she was too afraid to deal with.
She wanted to go with the first option. But she knew she’d hate herself if she didn’t at least try to open the emotional door.
“Since life is so short,” she said, picking up from the last comment she’d made, “don’t you think it’s important to be honest about what you want?”
“I honestly want you,” he said, his words teasing, but the look in his eyes deep and intense.
And there she was, back to choosing between the easy route—sex—or the harder one of emotional honesty. Before Blake, Alexia would have sworn that she’d always pick emotional honesty. But it was easy to think that when there was very little at stake.
She took a deep breath, then asked, “And what else, besides me, do you want?”
She figured he’d sidestep. Dance away or turn the query back to something sexy. A part of her hoped he would. Then she’d know she’d tried, given it her best, but that it was all his fault they couldn’t dive into the messy, core-wrenching pain of honest feelings.
“I want to make a difference. I want to know I’ve done my best.” He looked past her for a second, as if he was scanning his want list. Then he met her eyes again, and made Alexia’s heart stutter. “I want a full life. One that’s more than just the military. I want a home. Someplace, someone that accepts me for who I am. For what I am.”
Stuttering just a second ago, now her heart tripped, not sure if it should run toward him or skitter away in fear. He wanted everything. And she knew he’d give everything in return.
Frozen, more afraid in that second than she’d been when the rat terrorist had offered her up to his henchman, Alexia tried to figure out what to say.
Suddenly a loud buzz rang out. Lights flashed.
Blake’s expression shifted from sexy man to soldier in the blink of an eye as he looked past her shoulder toward the equipment bank.
Fear, already hunkered down in her belly, exploded.
“Is that them? Did they find us?”
“No,” he assured her, sliding from her arms and the cot. He moved toward the equipment, grabbing his pants as he went. “It’s just a message. We check in every couple of hours, remember. Nothing to worry about.”
Bless the navy, she thought as the tension poured out of her, leaving her limp and exhausted. Maybe after some sleep in her own bed, some time to sort through her own thoughts, she’d be ready to talk emotions with him. Ready to share what she felt—hell, maybe she’d know what she felt.
But right now, this second? She was just grateful for the interruption.
She watched him answer the radio call, too relieved at the emotional escape that she wasn’t even curious about the message.
Then she shivered. Without his body there keeping her warm, she was chillingly aware that she was naked. She tugged the blanket closer, but it didn’t help. As she watched him pull his shirt over his head and tuck it into his fatigues, she reluctantly reached for her own clothes.
Interruption or not, they were going to have to finish that conversation. It would have been so much easier naked.
She’d got as far as tugging the second pair of socks over her feet when he returned to her side.
“Time to go,” he told her.
“What?” Shocked, she stared at him, trying to read more in his face. More what, she didn’t know. All of a sudden, fear gripped her belly. This tent wasn’t home. It wasn’t even civilization. They were in the godforsaken middle of frozen hell. But this tent had become a haven. Safe and secure.
Now they had to leave?
He sat opposite her, tugging on his boots.
“They took Lukoski at 0400. The area is secure.” He looked up from tying his laces to give her a quick smile. “You get to go home.”
“Home.” The image of her condo, with its bright colors and big soft bed, filled her head. Even better, the beach only five minutes away. Hot sand, warm water. She was going to spend her first two days home curled up under her blankets, sleeping like a baby. And the next handful on the beach soaking up as much sunshine as her body would hold.
“Can’t go until you put your boots on, though,” he prompted, handing them to her as if to hurry her along. She tugged, tied and stood in under a minute.
Not bad time for having spent part of it peering at her lover, trying to figure out why he felt so far away all of a sudden.
“Ready,” she said as her head popped through the top of her sweater.
Busy with their outer gear, Blake didn’t say anything.
“What about all this?” She gestured to the tent, the equipment. “Do we pack it up?”
He shook his head.
“A team will come in later, after we get you out of here.”
“We should do the dishes.” She looked at the cots, one pristine with blankets still tight enough to bounce a quarter on, the other mussed and tumbled, with two imprints clear on the pillow. “Or at least make the bed.”
Blake followed her gaze with unreadable eyes. Why was he so distant now? Was he ashamed of what they’d done? Was he so tied to rules and regulations that he regretted their lovemaking? Or just that he’d opened up to her? Hadn’t he meant what he said about wanting a full life? Or had he meant it, but realized that it simply didn’t apply to her.
He handed her the heavy coat she’d worn on the trip in, then shrugged into his own. Before she could finish zipping hers closed, he tossed the can of chocolate into the trash bag, shook out the blankets and gave the pillow a good, solid punch.
Alexia winced. Her heart wept as she forced herself to finish securing the coat.
Good thing she hadn’t bared her heart. It looked as though he was finished here.
BLAKE WANTED to punch something harder than a lousy pillow. A brick wall. A steel door. An angry lion. Anything.
Why then? Why did the call have to come then? Why not in an hour. Or two, even. That would have given him time to deal with the emotional mess he’d fallen into. To finish the discussion and bring, what had she called it before? Closure?
Yeah. Closure.
Because facts were facts. Feelings, no matter how intense and inviting, wouldn’t change them. He wouldn’t—couldn’t—ask her to be a part of the life he’d chosen. No matter how much he loved her.
“Are you ready? The rescue team is meeting us at the top of the mountain in fifteen minutes.”
“We have to climb a mountain?”
He wanted to laugh. He wished he could find a little humor in this ending. Some way to leave them both with smiles. But he couldn’t.
“The rescue vehicle can’t make it down to this elevation,” he explained, his voice a little stiff. “It’s not a big climb and there’s a pulley system in place.