Her Perfect Stranger

This was her life.

She had to repeat that to herself during the next week, often. They were deeply embroiled in the mission, working with prototypes of their real cargo. At the moment, they were trying to nail down the unloading process-a tricky, dangerous, huge undertaking complicated by the fact that no one had ever done it before.

Daily run-throughs were critical. If they messed up in space, not only would they toss away billions of dollars, they would further delay the completion of the International Space Station, perhaps indefinitely.

Couldn't happen. As a result, total and complete dedication was essential. Corrine was certain she had her team's total concentration; her own was debatable. Horrifying, the way her mind wandered. Horrifying and humiliating, because more often than not, where it wandered was straight into the gutter.

She wanted Mike, and she wanted him naked.

'Commander's mumbling to herself again,' Frank said from far above, on the platform that put him at eye level with the robotic arm they were still attempting to master.

Jimmy, on his belly next to Mike, who was also spread out on the platform, brow furrowed as he worked, laughed. 'She always mutters.'

'I do not.' Corrine climbed the ladder to reach them. Everything in this hanger was to scale, which meant huge. If she let herself think like a civilian, look around with an untrained eye, she felt like an ant.

'Actually, you do,' Stephen called up from ground level, where he was watching the computer monitor carefully. 'You mutter a lot. It's how we gauge your mood.'

Mike, all stretched out, muscles bunching and unbundling as he worked, laughed, but bit back his smile when she looked at him with a raised brow. 'I don't know anything,' he said, going back to his work.

Yeah, right.

At least they didn't know what she'd been muttering about. There was some relief in that she'd managed to keep everything a secret.

They'd managed.

She had to give Mike credit for that, because for whatever reason, he'd abided by her wishes. She watched him now, watched as for the first time they managed to slide the robotic arm- with Mike on it-into the absolutely precise spot, the one that would allow the solar panels to be correctly unloaded.

Perfect.

It was a huge accomplishment, worthy of a celebration, and as a huge smile split her face, Corrine turned to her team. They turned to each other.

Jimmy slapped Frank on the back. Stephen whooped and hollered, then high-fived the other men when they came down.

Corrine watched, a pang in her heart, until Mike came down, too, and craned his neck.

Across the twenty feet or so that separated them, he looked right at her. The ever-present heat was still there, simmering and igniting a slow burn in the pit of her belly, but there was more, too. There was the thrill of what they'd done, and the need to share it with each other.

He took a step toward her, a slow smile curving his lips.

Everything within her tightened in anticipation.

Then Stephen reached out for Mike, halting his progress, and the connection was broken.

Corrine stepped closer, wanting to join the testosterone-fest, be part of the backslapping and whooping.

But while they all turned to her, still smiling, still proud and filled with excitement, each one of them refrained from physical contact. It didn't help to know it was her own damn fault, that she'd kept them on the wrong side of her personal brick wall.

It also didn't help to watch Mike, so excited, and so damn sexy with it. How was it that he could be so comfortable in his own skin, all the time? He fit into this world like a piece of the puzzle, and why shouldn't he?

He had a penis.

Great. She was in her thirties and had penis envy. Pathetic.

She turned away, and had nearly made it to the door before she felt the touch on her elbow. She didn't need to look to know it was Mike, that he'd somehow broken free of the pack. Not when her entire body shivered at that light touch.

What would he say, she wondered wildly, if she told him what she'd just discovered about herself, that she was jealous, pathetically jealous of what he so effortlessly had with the team? That she no longer enjoyed her solitude?

'Corrine,' he said in a low, husky voice that scraped at every raw nerve and made her shudder again. 'We did it.'

'I know.' She didn't look at him, couldn't.

He touched her again. Standing behind her as he was, with his back to the team, no one could see how he stroked the small of her back. Just a few fingers, nothing more, and it shook her to the core.

'I'm going to go upstairs.' To the control room. Where there would be more ecstatic people, but them she could handle. 'I want to see if-'

'We did it, Corrine. I think that deserves a hug, don't you? Or maybe even more. What do you think?'

Nervous now, she let out a little laugh. 'You're crazy. I can't touch you here.'

'Why not? The rest of us did.'

Had he read her mind, or was she just that transparent when it came to him?

'Why would anyone think anything of it?' he asked reasonably.

Yes, why would they? All sorts of excuses danced in her head, but at the root of all of them came the truth. 'It's not them, it's me. I don't know what happens to me around you.'

'I do. I threaten your sense of control.' His broad chest brushed her shoulder. 'You threaten mine right back. Did you ever think of that?'

She studied the door. 'No.'

'This isn't going to go away,' he said quietly. 'We might as well just go with it.'

'You mean sleep together again.'

'Hell, yes,' he said fervently.

She laughed then, but since it sounded half-hysterical, she brought her hands up to her mouth. 'Oh, God, Mike. I don't know what to do with you.'

He turned her to face him, looking deep into her eyes. 'Yes you do. You know exactly what to do.' When she only stared at him, probably wild-eyed and wide-eyed, he let out a long, slow breath. 'You're torturing me. You know that?'

'I'm torturing you?'

'All these stolen touches and wild kisses-'

'Then stop-'

'I look at you with your hair up, in these severe clothes, and I want to see the other Corrine. Without the mask of the job, without the icy control. It makes me ache.'

'Mike-'

'Ache,' he whispered. 'I'm staying at the Hyatt hotel. Suite-'

'No,' she quickly gasped, putting a finger to his mouth. 'Don't tell me-'

'Six forty-four,' he said around her fingers. He grinned. 'Sixth floor again. Can you believe the irony? I'm hoping it's a lucky sign.'

She groaned and closed her eyes. 'I didn't want to know that.'

'Yes, you did.'

Yeah, damn it, she did.

As if fate was mocking her, the day ended early, leaving Corrine with two choices. She could go home and see what she could cook up for dinner.

Or she could catch a movie, as she'd been wanting to do for months.

She pulled up to her complex and stared at the building. She hadn't gone food shopping; she'd have to make due with cold cereal and the television for company.

Mmm, so appealing.