Without another word, he pulled her into a passionate kiss, her shirt falling to the ground. Her body was still wet from the sponge bath, and he could feel the dampness soaking through his shirt, hot from the burning flush of her skin.
He broke the kiss long enough to rip off his overshirt and shoulder holster, then pulled off his T-shirt and tossed the garments onto the rover’s tailgate. He moved forward and grasped her by the shoulders, lifted her into his arms, and set her down on the tailgate, a half-shy, half-seductive smile on her face that was about to drive him out of his mind.
He was far too aroused to be gentle or patient and she didn’t seem to mind; she worked his belt loose and yanked his trousers down over his hips with a frantic need that matched his own. They came together with an urgency that went beyond the physical and spent itself quickly with a flare of emotion that consumed them both.Jason felt the air go out of him and he nearly collapsed on top of Val, her arms clasped around his shoulders as his head rested on her breast.
“Jesus,” he breathed.
“Oh, Jason,” she hissed. “I’ve been wanting to do that for days.”
“I’ve got a great idea.” His head popped up, a wild glint in his eye. “Let’s do it again.”
“Race you to the cave,” she laughed, grabbing her clothes and taking off up the path.
“Hey, wait up!” he protested, trying to collect his scattered garments and his pistol.
“If you aren’t there in thirty seconds,” he could hear her voice come from farther up the hill, “I’ll start without you!”
“I’m on my way!” he promised, arms filled with clothes as he gingerly made his way across the rocks on bare feet.
This, he thought ludicrously to himself, would be a heck of a time for someone to take a shot at us.
“Oh, well,” he muttered with a philosophical shrug. “There are no
Much later, Jason watched Valerie as she lay unmoving in the crook of his shoulder, drifting in the exhaustion and afterglow of their frenzied—almost desperate—lovemaking. Her face was perfect in sleep, peaceful and child- like, with a natural beauty that stirred anew the urges that had propelled him into her arms hours before. He was tempted to wake her and see if he could manage to perform just once more, but she probably needed the rest— emotionally, if not physically.
He leaned his head back against the folded blanket they’d used for a pillow and tried not to think. Thinking hurt too much at the moment. Maybe that was why he’d let his hormones do the steering with Valerie. Oh, to be sure, the sex had been anything but unpleasant. What was that old saying? “There’s good sex and then there’s great sex, but there is no bad sex.” This had been better than good, but not quite great. There had to be much more emotional attachment for great sex.
Curiously enough, he hadn’t felt the guilt he’d anticipated: he’d initially thought he might feel like he was cheating on Shannon’s memory. Instead, there’d remained an emptiness that no amount of frantic coupling could fill, either with guilt or satisfaction. There was none of the wracking self-doubt and debilitating guilt he’d felt after Inferno, just a curious, cold detachment from the deaths of Shannon and the others.
It was beginning to worry him.
“Hi,” Valerie whispered, eyes blinking up at him groggily. “You still awake?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” he said, giving her a reassuring smile.
“Thinking about your friends?” she asked him, propping herself up on one elbow.
“I don’t think,” he replied slowly and quietly, “that I ever got to know them well enough to call them friends. And now…” A vision of Shannon passed before his eyes unbidden. “I never will.”
“That woman, Lieutenant Stark,” Valerie questioned gently, seemingly reading his thoughts. “Were you two involved?”
“We might have been, if we’d had more time,” Jason told her honestly.
“She seemed like a very strong person.” Valerie rested her head on his chest, teasing the hair there with her fingers. “I’m sorry for you.”
“I’m sorry about Glen,” he told her, trying to sound sincere.
“I know you probably didn’t think much of him, but he was out of his element.” She shook her head. “Glen just couldn’t understand that you can disagree with someone politically but still respect them personally. Too much of Dad rubbed off on him. But he was a good man.”
“Did you love him?” Jason asked her, surprised that he actually cared what the answer would be.
She hesitated for a long moment, and he wasn’t certain she would reply, but finally he could feel her shrug against him.
“I don’t know. He loved me. Sometimes, I thought I loved what he could be, what he had the potential to become. In the beginning, when we were both in college, it was fun to talk about forever and all the things we’d do. Lately, though, it seemed like I was growing up and he wasn’t. I cared about him, but…” She sighed softly. “I’m not sure I’ve ever really loved anyone.” She chuckled. “Maybe I was ruined for all other men by having Daddy to compare them to.”
“Senator O’Keefe is an impressive speaker,” Jason allowed, trying to take to heart her advice about respecting political enemies. “It must have been interesting growing up around him.”
“Daddy always gave me everything I could possibly want. Not just material things, either—he was always there for me when I needed someone to talk to, or a hug or a smile. I think he wanted to make up for Mom not being there.”
“Were he and your mother separated?”
“Mom died when I was very young,” she told him. “I don’t remember very much about her. She was killed in an explosion in the Czech Republic.”
“Jesus.”
“That was a long time ago.” She looked up at him, her face more worried than nostalgic. “What about now? What are we going to do?”
He rested his head back against the cave wall, considering the question. Staying right where they were certainly had its temptations, if only they could find a source of water. Food wouldn’t be a problem: the Edge Mountains were full of wildlife, most of which was edible by humans. He chuckled inwardly at the thought of them living like Paleolithic hunters, spending their days scavenging for food and water and their nights coupling by the fire. There was only one problem with that.
“We can’t stay here forever,” he told her. “Even if we could find a way to get water and food, we’re only a couple months from winter, and I imagine it gets pretty damned cold in these mountains. Plus…” He shrugged, trying to sound more hopeful than he was. “Well, if the
“What if the ship was destroyed?” she asked him, voice betraying the pessimism he shared.
“When she doesn’t arrive at our next, scheduled stop, they’ll contact the Fleet, and somebody will come check it out. It’ll just take a while.”
“How long?” Val wanted to know.
“Maybe as long as six to eight months,” Jason admitted. “Maybe more, maybe less, depending on ship readiness.”
“So where do we go?” she asked him. “Maybe Davenport, or one of the other, smaller cities, further south?”
McKay shook his head emphatically. “The cities are probably all occupied, by now, or else wiped out by orbital bombardment. No, we need to find something the Invaders wouldn’t have bothered with.” He looked her in the eye. “Maybe it’s time to look up some old friends.”
“What the hell’s going on?” Vinnie muttered, lowering his binoculars.
The Sergeant’s words were swallowed up by the early-evening wind that scoured the sandstone plateau, but had Captain Shao Chi Trang heard them he would likely have echoed their sentiment. Unlike Sergeant Mahoney, he didn’t require binoculars: he’d been loaned a Marine battle helmet and was using its electronic ocular both as a
