But he wasn’t like Brett and his “associates.” He would at least make sure Sunny’s death was quick. The same way he’d done for her friends on the mountain.
***
Enjoying just watching Sunny breathe, Wade rested on his side, propped on an elbow. With his other hand he skimmed his fingers along her arm as the early-morning sun streaked through the window. There was good sex and great sex. Then there was sex with Sunny, which took great to a whole new level.
He hadn’t been alone in the feeling. He could see, feel, hear her response each time. The power of it still echoed in his memory, and he wanted her again, something he couldn’t imagine easing up anytime soon.
Problem was, he’d seen the barriers returning to her eyes before she’d drifted off to sleep on the rug beside him. They’d never made it to the bed. He’d pulled a blanket and a couple of throw pillows from the sofa rather than disturb her, then started his vigil watching over her in between catnaps. The warmth of her naked body, every curve fitting against him, made him want to stay awake and catalog the feel, the scents. Somewhere around four in the morning, her dog had curled up on a corner of the blanket, staring him down with those two different colored eyes, daring Wade to make him move.
A sigh slipped from her mouth a second before she stretched, her feet inching out from under the wool blanket he’d picked up at an Inuit festival last summer. Sunny’s lashes fluttered open. She stared around the room with disoriented eyes until her gaze landed on him and cleared. Strange how a person could smile and frown at the same time. He stared back silently, waiting to take his cue from her.
She looked away first. “You should be resting. You’ve been through a lot, parachuting out of a helicopter, rescuing me, getting shot.”
“Grazed. And are you telling me to go to bed?” His knuckles detoured over her stomach. “As long as you join me, I’m game.”
She laughed, a forced sound that didn’t come close to filling the space between them. “That would necessitate walking, and I don’t think I can manage that just yet.”
“Then we can stay put right here.” He stoked the embers in the grate and tossed on another log before reclining back with a barely disguised wince.
The need for sleep clawed at him, but he couldn’t rest until he could be sure she would still be around when he woke up. As if he could anchor her here a while longer, he draped the Inuit blanket over her again to cover her escaped toes. The wings of the raven woven into the print seemed to wrap around her protectively, the way he burned to do.
Settling beside her, he curled an arm around her waist. “I make amazing chocolate chip pancakes.”
She laughed again, more freely this time. “Sounds positively… unhealthy.”
“Whipped cream and all, which is not limited to use on the pancakes. I have a sweet tooth.”
“I noticed from your kitchen.” Sunny captured his hand, her thin fingers linking with his with surprising strength. “I have to go, you know that.”
Yeah, he’d gotten that vibe and didn’t like how much the thought of her leaving unsettled him. “You’re a bit underdressed and most of the world’s still asleep. We may be in a town bigger than yours, but we’re still not in the City That Never Sleeps.”
“Huh?” She gave him a blank look, her hazel eyes uncomprehending.
“New York City… the City That Never Sleeps… Never mind. Explaining jokes doesn’t work.” Just like the whole “Free Bird” moment back in the cave, it was as if she had holes in her vocabulary.
“Point made. We’re in Alaska.” Her words were hurried, embarrassed almost. “The pace is slower. This whole huge state is like a small community.”
How secluded was her mountain town? “And where exactly in Alaska would you be from, in case I wanted to call you for pizza and a movie?”
She sat up abruptly, blanket clutched to her chest. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” She held out her arm for Chewie to sit beside her, her fingers disappearing into the dog’s black-and-white coat. “Unless I misunderstand, your job takes you away most of the time, and even when you’re around, dating me? Well, the commute’s a bitch.”
“Hey, I’m only talking about a date. And as for the commute, doesn’t everyone around here hitch rides on all the little planes like they’re buses or taxis?” He wasn’t in the market for anything long-term, especially not with a deployment to Afghanistan coming up soon. He tugged a strand of her hair, the same chestnut brown, rich color of the woven blanket. “Why don’t you leave it to me to decide if I can handle the trek? Starting when I take you back.”
“You aren’t going to go with that ‘You’re my mission’ line again, are you?”
“That would be pointless.”
“I’m glad you understand.” She tipped her head, easing her hair from his hand, her emotional walls all too clear.
“So you want me to do what, exactly?”
She studied him warily, her eyes as narrowed and standoffish as the dog’s. “I do need help, obviously. There should be money wired to me by the morning. That’s why I needed to use your computer. So it’s only a matter of finding out which bank to go, which will be in an email.”
“And if the money’s not already there this morning?”
Her hold tightened around her dog’s neck. “I don’t want to borrow trouble. Let’s wait and see.”
Frustration chewed through him, damn near buzzing in his ears, louder and louder. Until he realized his cell phone was vibrating on the kitchen table. Ignoring the call wasn’t an option. It could be work, and if he had to leave, she wouldn’t even be here when he returned.