Darkness(65)

She said, “I’d really like to know what you’re feeling.”

He made a sound that was the grim equivalent of a derisive hoot. “So who’s playing at being Dr. Phil now?”

“I’m not playing at anything.”

His eyes were black and unfathomable as they held hers. “You want to know what I’m feeling? Fine, I’ll tell you. How about—horny?”

At the sudden blast of heat that flamed at her from his eyes, the world seemed to tilt on its axis. She couldn’t tear her gaze from his. The truth, the horrible, incontrovertible truth, was that she felt the exact same way, although she would never have put it so crudely. Plus her state was specific to him, while she guessed that for him being sexually aroused was probably something way more frequent and generic, as in, any young and reasonably attractive woman in his vicinity would do. But to her dismay she discovered that giving a name to what she was feeling only seemed to make the condition worse. If he came toward her now, if he took her in his arms and kissed her again, she wasn’t sure she’d have the strength to call a halt a second time.

“You don’t have to look so worried.” His voice was dry. She abandoned the hope that he could not see and read her expression. Obviously he could. “I’m not going to jump you. What just happened was an accident.”

Gina frowned. “You make it sound like we had a car wreck.”

“That pretty much sums it up, doesn’t it?” Pulling the flashlight out of his pocket, he masked its brightness with his hand and gestured down the passage with it. “Come on, let’s go.”

Gina didn’t move. She was having to work to keep her breathing even. Her body was still all soft and shivery with arousal and, despite how ready he seemed to be to dismiss what had just happened, electricity still arced palpably between them. None of which was good for achieving the kind of working partnership that she felt their situation called for. Striving for honesty, she also wanted to do what she could to clear the air. Their survival—her survival—might depend on it.

“Cal, listen: I loved what we just did. It was good. Great, actually. That was some truly impressive making out.” Watching his face tighten, she hesitated. When she continued her tone was earnest. “It’s just— I can’t go any farther. I can’t get involved with you.”

His eyes narrowed. After a moment he said, “Honey, there’s a big difference between getting it on and getting involved. And that thing we just did? It falls smack dab into the category of getting it on.”

That whole speech, from the generic “honey” to the getting-it-on shot, made the hackles rise on the back of Gina’s neck. Clearly he hadn’t liked what she’d just said. Well, she didn’t like his reply right back.

“All right,” she said, her tone several degrees cooler. “I can’t get it on with you.”

“Probably a good call under the circumstances. How about we forget it ever happened?”

Gina nodded, nettled but trying not to show it. “Consider it forgotten.”

Her knees still felt wobbly, but she managed to step away from the wall. Not for anything was she going to let him know how shell-shocked she still felt from the intensity of the desire he had roused in her. There was no future in wanting him: she not only could not, she would not let this thing—the blazing sexual attraction, the tentative friendship, the building trust, whatever it was that the sum of those parts added up to—simmering between them grow into anything more.

The truth was, there was no way he would be in her life beyond Attu.

Provided they even survived Attu.

That thought was the wake-up call, the reality check she needed as she walked toward him. Forget sex; think survival, she told herself grimly. It was enough to at least cool her blood a little, and to take the hot, shivery feelings that she still couldn’t seem to rid herself of down to a manageable level.

Without waiting for her to reach him, he turned and started walking away, heading down the passage with the sliver of light skipping ahead of him.

“I still want to warn Keith,” she said to his retreating back. It was absolutely true, but it was also in the nature of underscoring the fact that she hadn’t given in: she might be walking after him now rather than walking away as she’d been doing before he’d grabbed her and they’d kissed, but that did not mean he was the one calling the shots. Necessarily. Only if she agreed with what he suggested. She’d spent most of a lifetime giving in to people who thought they knew best, against her better judgment, and she wasn’t about to make that mistake again.

“We’ve had this conversation.” He flung that over his shoulder at her.

“Yes, we have.” Her tone was sugar sweet. “And nothing’s changed.”

That stopped him. He turned to wait for her. “I meant what I said.”

She smiled at him. “And I meant what I said: you don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“Honey, I’m bigger than you, and badder than you, and way more experienced with living through the kind of situation we’re dealing with here than you. So I think that makes me the one in charge.”

“I am absolutely prepared to listen to everything you have to say. And make my own decisions on the basis of your recommendations.”

He snorted. “Be careful I don’t let you live with that.”