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The burning tingle along her skin increased. Her gasps paced with Josh's, matched rhythm, just like in the plane, until a shout rolled deep inside her, out to mingle with Josh's hoarse groan of completion. Echoes cycled around them like a spiraling aircraft.

Alicia collapsed forward onto Josh's chest, his arms already around her. Aftershocks rocked through her, physical and emotional. And as much as she wanted to bask in the moment, fear flickered. For a woman accustomed to taking charge of her life, the thought of giving her heart fully left her shaking all over again.

Until this moment, it hadn't occurred to her how little experience she had in equal give-and-take relationships of any kind. Her mother had died so early, leaving Alicia to step into more of a parental role with her siblings. And of course her dating history pretty much sucked.

What she felt for Josh went far beyond anything she'd felt for Ben. She knew she could trust this incredibly funny, stubborn, honorable man beneath her. She just wasn't certain she could trust herself.

And with her heart lying there at his feet, she realized more than being hurt, she feared hurting him.

Two hours later, Josh buried his face in Alicia's neck while angling on his elbows to keep his weight off her. After round three of loving Alicia, he willed his slugging heart to slow to a halfway normal pace. He wasn't smiling against the soft curve of her shoulder now.

Already, he could feel her retreating from him. Making love to her each time with no holds barred had been every bit as incredible as he'd expected. Just the thought of her unraveling in his arms had him throbbing to life inside her. But their pocket of time here was ticking to an end. They would have to dress soon and evaluate what to do next.

He turned his face against the sweet scent of her skin toward the hazy glow rippling across the Plexiglas.

Northern lights streaking across the night sky cast banners of purple and pink through the dark in their own holiday light display. Sunrise wasn't far off. "Merry Christmas Eve."

She kissed his shoulder. "I'm sorry you had to spend Hanukkah alone."

He didn't want to think about their last fight or the breakup. They'd had every reason to be happy, finally living in the same city, and still they'd screwed up. "We could always float the date, like you used to do as a kid so your whole family could celebrate together. We could make this the holiday season for both of us. We've had your star to follow by. And it seems my Bic lighter has an endless supply of fuel."

"You know how I love quirky and mismatched, so it definitely works for me. Hey, maybe we should create a pamphlet for military folks since they spend the holidays in so many odd places. Something like a thousand and one ways to celebrate the holidays in a tent—or Quonset hut."

He nodded absently, humor tougher to scrounge than normal.

She tapped his forehead. "What are you thinking? I'm not a mind reader, either, you know."

Honesty. He'd demanded it of her and she deserved the same from him. He rolled off her onto his back.

"I'm wondering what we'll do when we return to base."

And they would make it home, damn it.

She sat up, sleeping bag clasped to her chest. "I don't know how we went so wrong. You're the answer man. I only know that no one can touch me, frustrate me, hurt me...move me as much as you. I suspect that much, at least, is mutual."

He stroked the backs of his fingers along her jaw. "That sums it up."

"We're so different. You with your logic, me with my quirky ways and mismatched clothes."

He needed reason and plans in his life. She was all about the unexpected, flying by gut and instinct while he plotted the odds and targets.

Josh sat up beside her, dropped a quick kiss on her mouth before standing. "We should get dressed. The storm's easing and we'll need to start moving again. My guess is that this Quonset is near the river. We shouldn't have far to go."

He stepped back into his boxers and unhooked his flight suit from the clothesline. His snow pants and parka swayed like ghostly apparitions, reminding him of those chem-gear suits hanging in the cave. More than their own lives depended on them returning to base in one piece.

Leaning back against the wall, he rolled on his socks. Sounds of Alicia dressing tormented the hell out of him. He could wade through quantum physics without hesitation, but he didn't have a clue how to ease the awkwardness between them. Whatever happened to reveling in the afterglow of great sex?

Incredible sex.

Alicia padded to a stop beside him, her reindeer toe socks making a perfect Alicia-contrast to the military precision of her flight suit. "We should have dated longer."

The cross-Atlantic relationship had frustrated the hell out of both of them while they spiked long distance bills to rival the national debt. Sure they had leave time, but scheduling it to coincide was nearly impossible. Getting married was the only way to guarantee a joint assignment. And even that had taken six months to shake down before they'd both made it to Alaska—two people so much in love, married and virtual strangers even after eighteen months.

Add the stress of a move and high-pressure military jobs and was it any wonder they'd crashed and burned on the relationship front? So logical he should have seen it coming, but he hadn't stopped hoping for a different outcome all the way to the ground.

He tugged the zipper up on her flight suit until his knuckles rested against her delicate collarbone. The buzz in his head predicted failure if he didn't get his act together. "Yes, we should have. But we didn't have that luxury."

She reached to clasp his hand in hers. "Have we already done too much damage to our relationship?"

To our love? The rest of her sentence stayed unspoken but was clear as the spirals of light playing through the window. The echo of her softly spoken words rattled around inside his head along with the buzz in his brain.

"I don't know."

The drone increased. Built. Until he realized it wasn't in his head at all.

A vehicle was approaching the Quonset hut.

Josh yanked Alicia by the arm, jerking her away from the small window inset in the door. He shut down emotions until his brain focused only on processing information. "Someone's out there. Snowmobiles, I think. Sounds like two."

She scooped her mukluks as he dragged her toward the woodstove. "Let's hope it's a rescue."

Sure, he hoped. His gut told him otherwise. He jammed his feet into his boots. "We'll know soon enough."

Military rescue forces would call out first. Of course someone from the mining operation might try calling out with a bluff, but he was damned good at detecting bluffs. Either way, he wouldn't let the past replay again into some kind of twisted holiday massacre, most definitely not with Alicia playing any part.

Where to go? He considered standing to the side of the door and simply ambushing whoever came through. Answers could come afterward.

He started a step in that direction—then stopped. Frowning, he studied their tin-can shelter. Serious intruders would shoot first, enter later, and the thin metal of the rusting Quonset hut would barely slow a bullet, much less stop it.

"Between the stacks of wood, lie flat," he ordered. Not much of a hiding place, but it would provide protection with the stove beside them as well.

He couldn't allow himself to look at Alicia with her blond hair still tousled from making love. Crouching, he scooped his survival vest and tossed Alicia's to her, as well. He tucked behind the stacked logs with her, shrugged into his vest, drew his flare gun.

Headlights swooped across the Plexiglas window, no stealthy approach. A good sign.

Low voices permeated through, but nothing overly loud or specific to discern - which meant bad news.

This wasn't a military rescue or they would have announced themselves. Still, he could only see two figures. Could there be more lurking?

Alicia held up two fingers in the dimly lit corner, a question puckering her brow. "Only two guys on the snowmobiles?" she whispered.

"Seems so." With some luck, these were only a couple of hunters.

Hunting on Christmas Eve? Yeah, right.

Part of him wanted to blast the two men lurking outside now, but his military training overrode baser instincts. As much as he wanted to protect Alicia at all costs, he still needed to establish the men had hostile intent. They could be lost and wandering, something he doubted but couldn't risk.

Damn, how much longer were those two bozos going to weasel around outside? They had to know from the smoke that someone was inside. His grip tightened on the flare gun. Alicia's body heat radiated beside him. Primal protectiveness still churned from their earlier discussion about the bastard in her past.

And now it all roared stronger. Louder.

He wouldn't end this day with even one hair on her head injured.

More muffled voices echoed along with a sound he recognized well—the click and rattle of a machine gun being raised. Ah, hell.

He grabbed the back of Alicia's neck and pushed.

"Stay down," he hissed. He flattened onto his belly beside her.

Bullets riddled the shelter. Pinging. Popping through the walls. Ricocheting off the stove. Shit. He flung his arm over her head.

Snow gear dangling from the line swayed, shredded, fiberfill puffing and exploding.

Had the Plexiglas given a distorted impression of people inside? Slowly, the long pants slithered to the floor.

Silence followed.

Alicia!

He jerked to look at her, skimming his hand up to her neck to find a reassuring pulse.

"I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

But he did. How could he not? He wanted to crawl on top of her and shield her body with his until this hell passed. She stared back at him, resignation on her face.

She knew him. She knew he would want to lead the charge as if he could fix her past for her. He thought of his own nightmarish experience he'd long wanted to put to rest...and accepted she had her own. Hers in some ways was worse, because the betrayal had come from someone she trusted.

Slowly, understanding—if not peace—rolled over him about the university siege. His faith in mankind may have been shaken, but he'd never had to question himself. He'd done his best that day.

Alicia needed to learn to trust herself again before she could fully trust him. She needed to fix her own past and win this battle on the ground.

He didn't intend to let her fight the battle alone, but damn it, she'd earned her place on the front lines. Big picture, they needed to bring these bastards down and stood a better chance working together. "We're outgunned. Our only edge is surprise since they think we're wounded or dead. They're over armed—but overconfident. That can work for us."

"For us?" she asked, as if she couldn't believe he would include her.

"For us. Like in Cantou, we watch each other's back."
I
trust you. You trust me.
And God, he hoped he'd been right to trust his instincts. For a man who'd spent a lifetime following logic, this was scary shit.

"When the door opens, shoot. The gyro jets are great for tearing through a jungle canopy overhead, but their aim's not all that accurate. Hopefully we'll nail at least one of the bastards. Then we'll rush the door before the other can hide and swing around to riddle us with bullets from the back."

Footsteps crunched the snow.

"Are you ready?" he stared into her eyes and hoped that even in the faint light she could still see him, see her.

"Thank you," she said simply, didn't need to say anymore.

He understood. Thanks to Alicia, he understood so much more now.

Josh nodded, too much emotion clogging his throat and his head. He needed a clear brain.

Footsteps crunched closer. Two shadows bobbed and blended, bobbing again. Josh angled around one side of the wood stack, Alicia around the other. Staying flat on his stomach, he extended his arms in front of him, flare gun in both hands, aimed. Ready.

The door blasted open. A lone figure blocked the view.

One chance.

"Fire," Josh ordered. He shot, the hiss of Alicia's gun in synchronicity with his.

Two flares blazed across the room. Reflexively, he reloaded. Only three more left in his vest.

The flares caught the looming figure in both shoulders. Howling, he stumbled back, toppled.

Falling into the second intruder. Both landed in the snow.

Luck, logic or miracle? Josh didn't care or have time to analyze. But he was mighty grateful.

"Don't move," Josh shouted to the screaming man beating at the poker-hot torches in his shoulders. The bastard was lucky the snow gear had blunted the impact and the heat had likely cauterized his wounds.

"One twitch this way and we'll pin you both with another round." Josh glanced back at Alicia. "Cover me while I get their weapons, then we can pop a flare for rescue."

"Roger." She reloaded and raised her flare gun level. "I've got your back."

Her words knocked around inside his head before settling in his gut with a new tightness. He'd heard her say it before, hell, had even brought it up himself earlier. But now the words solidified and became a part of him beyond just applying to the plane or battlefield. After a lifetime of living in a world where people put up walls around him, where he put them around himself, he wasn't alone anymore.

Enemy weapons gathered, Josh launched a rescue-signal flare into the sky. An umbrella of light exploded in the midst of the purple-and-pink haze of the aurora borealis. Staring up into all those lights, he decided that it wouldn't be too far a stretch from trusting instincts to believing in miracles. And more than anything, he wanted the miracle of forever with the wary, stubborn, incredible woman he'd married.

Alicia clicked off the cordless phone, placing it on top of a stack of packing boxes by her kitchen stove, her Christmas calls complete. Since her family hadn't been notified about her ordeal, there hadn't been any need for tears or explanations. Simply rejoicing.

Her father was celebrating with her sister and sister's fiance. Her brother was enjoying a bachelor dinner with his girlfriend. Josh had even taken his turn speaking with everyone so she didn't have to make explanations about their breakup.