“I need to send an e-mail,” she told Søren when he came back inside.
“Kyra?” he guessed.
It was stupid, but his knowledge warmed her from head to toe. “Yeah. I’ve already missed one call since we’ve been gone.”
“Is tomorrow soon enough?”
“That will do. Otherwise, if I miss a second call, she’ll come looking.”
“And if we don’t want her trampling the playing field, you have to get in touch.”
“Yes.”
“Does she know you worked for Micor?”
She flushed at the implied criticism. “Yes. We’re not all lone-wolf types who feel like we have to hide our movements.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“It’s in your eyes. Anyway, I like having someone know where I’ll be. It means they give a shit. If something happened to you, who would come looking?”
“No one,” he said quietly.
God, he could be such an idiot, for a smart man. “I would. I’d come. Dumbass.”
That surprised a rough laugh out of him. “Sorry. I forgot. You love me.”
Mia managed not to flinch at the scorn in his voice. She wanted to punch him. “Do you think if you push hard enough, I’ll recant? Or do you just not care if you hurt me?”
“I don’t want to. In fact, that’s all I’ve been thinking about tonight-what if something goes wrong, what if they find us? What if something happens to Mia? Anxiety is driving me nuts.” Søren looked faintly surprised at the confession, but he didn’t disavow it. “I’m not used to having anyone to worry about.”
Progress? Oh, I think so. The iceman melteth.
“You’re forgiven.”
In companionable silence, they piled the dishes in the sink to be dealt with in the morning, and then, in concert, they began readying the futon. He shrugged at her look. “There’s precious little to do at this hour. I have some feelers out, but it’s a waiting game. For obvious reasons, there are few people I can trust. But… I can turn on the radio if you want. There should be some battery life left.”
Lying in the dark in his arms, listening to soft music, sounded pretty damn good to Mia. If she had any sense, she’d start trying to build some emotional distance between them, but she couldn’t. Didn’t even want to, really. She couldn’t seem to stop reaching for him, no matter how many times he recoiled.
“I’d like that.”
Mellow country music filled the cabin. She didn’t ordinarily care for it, but what other station would be in range in the Smoky Mountains? The singer’s soft twang made Mia smile, as he sang about a man who loved a woman until the day he died. She wasn’t sure she even believed in that anymore. Forever. Happy endings.
She’d take what she could get. A day, a week. Maybe she wasn’t the woman to whom men wrote love poems or whom they remembered through the years. Maybe not. But this man-well, the heat in his eyes made her feel as if that were true.
His eyes were avid as she stripped. It was a silent show, his motions mirroring hers. Mia found the slow revelation of his bare chest almost painfully erotic. His muscles were lean and compact, giving his naked body a powerful elegance. She ate him with her eyes, savoring his obvious pleasure. The man liked being looked at more than anyone she’d ever been with, but then, who could blame him?
By the time they climbed beneath the covers, he had an erection. She wondered if she was supposed to pretend she hadn’t noticed. Smiling, Mia lay down on her side and turned over, facing the window. She wouldn’t make it easy for him this time; he needed to suffer for being careless with her emotions-and him being rusty was no excuse.
The covers rustled as he settled. The mournful music shifted to an upbeat tune; she could envision people line-dancing to this in cowboy boots and tight jeans. Deliberately, she exhaled as if getting ready to fall asleep.
“Mia?”
“Hm?”
“Are you angry?” God, he sounded so adorably confused.
“Why?”
“Because you’re over there.”
“Where should I be?”
“Here.” With that, he drew her against him.
She didn’t roll over, which left them spooning. Despite his bewilderment, his erection hadn’t gone down, and she wiggled back. “Better?”
Søren groaned. “God, nothing in the world makes any sense but you.”
Restraining a shiver of pleasure at the heat near her ear, she closed her eyes. “Is that supposed to be dirty talk to get me in the mood?”
He choked out a laugh. “Hardly. Woman, you’ve got me so I don’t know whether I’m coming or going.”
“If you were coming, you’d know.” Mia shifted her hips.
“Mmm. Do that again, and we’ll see.” His right hand wandered down her belly, teasing over her abdomen.
She did, tilting so that his cock slid between her thighs. He hissed when his bare skin met hers, nudging toward her core. Then she tightened her legs to hold him still.
“That, you mean?”
Søren swept aside her hair, biting at her neck. “Tease.” “Because I made you want it raw?”
He shuddered. “Can’t.”
“I bet you could.” She loosened her thighs enough that he could move.
He did. Back, and then forward, a slow slide between her slick lips. “Christ, Mia. I want to be inside you.”
Conscience got the best of her then. She didn’t want to tease him into doing something that would make him hate her-and himself-once it was done. Rolling to face him, she curved a thigh over his.
“Better?”
He exhaled shakily. “Somewhat. You destroy my higher brain functions.”
“Thank God you’re making all our plans,” she said dryly.
Søren propped himself up on one elbow and regarded her with a sort of sweet incredulity. He brushed a fingertip down her cheek, staring into her eyes. “I could do this all night. Nothing else. Just this.”
“Then you’ll probably notice my left eye is a little higher than my right.”
“Did you verify your findings with a ruler and a level?”
“Maybe I just made it up.”
“You maddening woman.” He pulled her to him and buried his face in her hair. “Thank you.”
“What for?”
“For not tempting me more than I could bear.” There was devastation in his voice.
She understood. Sex was a life-affirming act, one that carried within it the potential for creation-and he feared nothing more. How could he bear the idea of more loss when he’d already lost everything? Mia wished she didn’t understand so well.
Oh God, how she loved him. The feeling hummed like a live wire, and Mia wrapped her arms around him, stroking his back while she comforted him through a silent grief so deep there were no words to assuage it.
He’s going to break my heart. The truth sounded in her head like a bell, but she couldn’t have left him if her life depended on it.
Lust and sorrow shared their bed like phantoms; she could not touch the latter, but she could sate the former. Her gaze on his, she reached between their bodies and curled her fingers around his rigid length. He sucked in a harsh, shallow breath, but he didn’t move. Mia took that to mean he wanted it; he trusted her to touch him and give pleasure.
There was more intimacy in this moment than she could readily process. Søren lay back as she squeezed, feeling her own juices on his skin. A moan escaped him the first time she pulled upward. He was sleek and hard in her fist; a frisson of shared pleasure tingled between her thighs.
“Tell me if I’m doing this right,” she murmured.
“The fact that you’re doing it makes it right.”
But then he covered her hand with his and showed her how he liked it, guiding her in terms of pressure and rhythm. For the first time, she glimpsed the pure vulnerability in his arousal. In offering her free rein over his body, Søren offered her the most beautiful gift: his trust.