His tiny little fluff of nothing had a stubborn streak that wouldn’t allow her to quit—or even slow. She might appear to be asleep on her feet, but she matched him step for step.
“What are we going to do?” she huffed.
“Avoid the towns, for one.” Many Americans had moved to Siberia immediately following the human-alien war, since Siberia was supposedly the only land free of the otherworlders’ “taint.” Actually, otherworlders were usually shot on sight here. “My boss, Michael, has a cabin on the border.” Michael had homes in every state, every country. Maybe even every city. That was how he kept his agents hidden, no matter where they were or what they had to do. “We’ll make our way there.”
They reached a little clearing, where a tree had fallen, the center hollowed out by weather and age. No one would be able to hide nearby. He would see and hear anyone who approached. And he could share his body heat with Vika inside the stump. This was as good as it was going to get.
He dropped the bag beside the tree, urged Vika to settle inside the center, and worked on gathering nearby stones. He’d wanted ten but could only find eight. Oh, well. That would have to do. He cleared the snow from a small section of land and used the rocks to form a circle. Next he gathered twigs and piled them inside the rocks.
He sat beside Vika, claimed two of the stones, and struck them together.
“As much as I’d love to watch you create a fire that way, because it’s very manly and impressive and everything,” she said, “I’d feel guilty if I didn’t tell you there’s a lighter in the bag.”
He paused, looked at her, and arched a brow. “You came prepared.”
“I had help,” she admitted after a brief hesitation.
“Who?”
“Well . . .” She nibbled on her lower lip as she dug into the bag. Several minutes passed, and she began to mumble under her breath. “Found it!” Grinning, she pulled out a lighter and slapped it into his hand.
“You never answered my question, Vika.”
“Oh, yeah. Well, do you remember those invisible men we’ve talked about?”
“Yes.” He lit the end of one of the twigs, flames quickly catching and crackling and spreading to the others. Heat wafted toward them, and smoke curled through the air.
“I wasn’t ever going to tell you, unless you spilled first, but waiting kind of seems silly now, after everything. So, here goes. One of them helped me. His name is X and he—”
“X? My X?”
“Your X? You
“I do. I’ve seen him most of my life.”
“Well, I started seeing him a few days after you were captured.”
He had no idea what to think about this development. X had never revealed himself to another person, never expressed a desire to do so, never
“What has he said to you?” he demanded.
Vika groaned. “That question is the very reason I never mentioned his name.”
Same for Solo. But just like she’d inferred, they were past the point of holding back. “You’re going to spill whether you want to or not.”
“Fine.” Her cheeks bloomed a lovely pink. “X says he’s an Altilium and Dr. E is an Epoto, but I have no idea what either of those words mean.”
“They are Latin for ‘a charger’ and ‘a drain,’ and they certainly fit.” And they’d certainly told her more than that.
Mist billowed in front of her, creating a dreamlike haze. “So how is Dr. E a doctor?”
“Well, for starters he earned a doctorate in annoying me.”
She giggled as she said, “Make that two doctorates. I really like X, but I want to find a way to get rid of Dr. E.”
Solo was the reason the being had been bothering her, but she threw no blame his way. He did not deserve this woman, but he wanted to. He wanted to do whatever was necessary to become the man she needed. “Are they with you now?”
“No. You?”
“No.” So where were they? “What else did they tell you? And you had better fess up. Otherwise I’ll be forced to utilize my world-famous interrogation technique.”
Another giggle. She assumed he was kidding. But at least she’d stopped blushing. Solo didn’t want her embarrassed with him. He wanted her comfortable enough to confess anything.
“Well, X said I’m supposed to stay with you.”
“That’s all?” he insisted.
“That’s the gist of it, yes, and all I’m willing to admit at the moment. Interrogation or not.”
That wasn’t so bad.
Then, she added, “Dr. E suggested I leave you behind to rot.”
His hands fisted, and he could feel the drugs begin to drip into his bloodstream.
He wanted to talk to both creatures right there, right then. He wanted to ask how and why, what else had been said, and command they leave his woman alone. She wasn’t to be bothered with their antics.
“Let’s change the subject,” he said. Before the sedatives got the better of him.
He stretched out beside her and she immediately snuggled against him, angling her head to watch his lips and sighing with what seemed to be satisfaction. He toyed with the ends of her hair, content.
“You aren’t afraid of me, are you?” he asked.
“No. Why?” Golden light danced over her, making her look as if she’d just stepped from some ancient painting of a magical land with fairies and pixies and a happily-ever-after.
“I . . . hurt people today.”
“In an effort to help others. Trust me,” she said with a yawn. “I’m beginning to understand the difference.”
Thank the Lord. “Good.” He kissed her forehead. “Close your eyes now, sweetheart. You need to sleep.”
“But I’m not tired.”
She was, but she was fighting it. Too much adrenaline, perhaps. Too much concern for what the future held. “Want to play the question game again?”
Her features brightened. “Yes, please.”
“Good, because I’m wondering . . . what’s your favorite color?”
“Blue,” she’d said, and then admitted softly, “the exact shade of your eyes. I’ve never seen anything so lovely.”
He stilled, not even daring to breathe.
“What’s
“Vika.”
“Yes?”
“No,” he said, fighting a grin, “that’s my favorite color.”
Her brow furrowed with confusion, the same way it had done in the cage when he’d said something she couldn’t quite figure out. “But I’m not a color.”
“Are you sure?”
A pause. A second later, a laugh bubbled from her. A laugh that heated him far more thoroughly than the fire.
“You know, that’s the most wonderful thing I’ve ever not heard,” she said, petting her fingers through his hair. “You’re the first man to ever truly compliment me, and I think I’m already addicted to it.”
“I’m truly the first?”
A beat of silence. “You will be,” she whispered, and they both knew she wasn’t just talking about the compliment.
Instantly the tide of need he’d experienced for her all these many days flooded him, his body reacting to her on a primal level. He’d known she was a virgin, but here, now, the knowledge caused a sense of possessiveness to
