“Damn,” Dare muttered. He slowed to five miles per hour, hoping their reduced speed would improve visibility. It didn’t.
“Maybe we should pull over,” Andrea said.
“Pull over where? I don’t even know where the shoulder is now.” He considered stopping right where he was, but even as the thought was forming, the truck tipped toward Andrea’s side. They were off the road.
Chapter 7
The situation was quite simply one of survival. They radioed the base that they’d gone off the road and were told that visibility was zero and all travel had been stopped by order of Dare’s deputy commander. No rescue would be forthcoming until the storm passed—around dawn, it was hoped. Neither Andrea nor Dare had expected anything else. Anybody who tried to come after them would probably wind up in precisely the same predicament.
Dare ventured out briefly to get the survival gear from the back of the truck, and soon he and Andrea were wrapped in wool blankets and staring at each other by the light of a single candle set safely in a tin on the door of the glove compartment.
Dare shifted suddenly, wedging himself into the corner between the door and the seat. He insisted that Andrea lean back against him and try to sleep.
“You’re pooped,” he said. “It’s been obvious all evening. Just lean back, shut up and sleep.”
Covered by layers of winter clothing, he made a comfortable pillow, and Andrea fell asleep with her back to his chest, fatigue taking her by surprise.
Dare didn’t sleep. Sleep was dangerous in these subzero temperatures, and there was no guarantee you’d ever know that you were freezing to death. Instead he remained watchful. His right arm closed about Andrea’s waist, covering the left arm that was strapped just below her breasts, and he let his chin rest on the top of her head.
Several hours later, Andrea came instantly awake. She was shaking, but she didn’t feel more than a little cold.
“Dare?”
“I’m here.” His rumble was reassuring, right above her head.
Suddenly she realized why she was shaking. “You’re shivering!”
“I’m losing a little body heat through my back. It’s right against the door.”
Andrea shoved herself up immediately and looked at him in the light of the guttering candle. His teeth were clenched.
“I suppose you thought it would make me feel wonderful in the morning to find you frozen to death under me!”
“I’m not in any danger of freezing, damn it.” He sat up and tried to pull the blanket around his shoulders. “I’m just a little cold. Shivering will warm me up in a minute.”
Andrea made a disgusted sound and reached for the candy bars that had come with the survival kit. “Eat one of these. Eat them all. Damn, where are the candles?”
“In the glove box.”
“You really amaze me,” she scolded as she pulled out a fresh candle. “You know better than this. Every bit of body warmth is essential. You can’t afford to let yourself get cold.” After lighting the candle, she stuck it onto the stub of the old one. “Here. Take off your mittens and hold your hands right over the candle.”
He tried to comply, but he was shivering so badly that he was unable to get much good from the flame. Andrea made a disgusted sound and opened the two middle buttons of her parka.
“Come on, cowboy, put your hands in here.”
“Don’t call me cowboy,” he grumbled as his hands found their way inside the parka, inside her regulation cardigan, and into a nest of warmth and softness. If he hadn’t been so cold, he might even have enjoyed it.
Andrea pulled the blankets up and over their hooded heads, sealing in the heat of their breath, wrapping them in a dark cocoon. The light from the candle was dimly visible through the tight weave of the wool blankets. She made a small sound as her injured shoulder bumped into the seat back.
“This isn’t going to work, Andrea,” Dare said through chattering teeth. “You can’t get comfortable.”
“I’ll get comfortable when you stop shivering. Until then, I’ll survive.”
But the shivering didn’t stop. He’d gotten more hypothermic than he’d suspected. Gritting his teeth to stop them from chattering, he pulled his hands away from the warmth of Andrea’s body and struggled to unfasten his parka. When it fell open, he reached for the buttons of hers. She helped him as best she could, and then his frigid hands slipped up her back, inside the stored warmth, and their chests came together, sharing heat. Shifting slightly, he managed to maneuver them so that Andrea rested comfortably against him, all pressure off her shoulder.
Gradually his violent shuddering began to taper off, and feeling began to return to his fingers, toes, and nose. He still felt cold, deeply, internally cold, but his body signaled that the worst was over by letting his muscles relax between bouts of shivering.
“Dare?”
“Hmm?”
“What have you got against cowboys?”
He almost smiled. “Nothing. I just don’t like to be called cowboy. My ex-wife used to call me that when she was in one of her bitchy moods.”
“How long were you married?”
“For five endless years way back when. Maureen wasn’t cut out for either me or military life. She was a city girl, a socialite. Being a lowly lieutenant’s wife drove her crazy. She should have married a general.”
“Was she pretty?”
He considered. “I guess. I thought so at first. Later I thought she was pretty ugly. I got so I hated the sight of her, the sound of her. To this day I can’t stand the perfume she used to wear.”
“Must’ve been rough.”
“There’s nothing quite like the ugliness that can happen between two people who know each other well. You get so you know what really hurts and how to use it. Maureen was especially good at it.”
“I’m sorry.” Andrea’s voice was soft.
“I recovered a long time ago. It’s a mistake I’ll never make again, though.”
“Marriage?”
“Not marriage. Marrying somebody without thinking about just what they’ll be giving up. If I met Maureen now, I’d know better. I’d know it would sour her. Love doesn’t conquer all, you know. It doesn’t conquer anything. Sooner or later you’ve got to deal with the real world. There’s always a trade-off.”
“How unromantic.” With her cheek against Dare’s chest, she listened to the sound of his heartbeat. He was hardly shivering now, and the earlier rapid rhythm had slowed to normal.
“Oh, I believe in romance,” he said. “Moonlight, wine, roses—”
“Skip the roses.”
He chuckled. “Quiet candlelit dinners, then. But I’m a realist, too, Andrea. Think about it. How would you feel if some man told you to choose between him and your career?”
There was a silence. “Yeah,” she said quietly after a moment.
His hands began to move in slow, soothing circles on her back, and a kittenish purr escaped her.
“You’re all tense,” he said.
“It’s the shoulder. I seem to be stiff all the time from trying to protect it. Mmm.” His fingers were kneading gently, working the tension out.
“Andrea?”
“Sir?”
“I’m getting a nearly irresistible urge to kiss you again.”
She surprised him with a low throaty chuckle. “I thought you’d never mention it.”
It was crazy, it was insane, and he kissed her anyway. Outside, the wind howled and the snow whipped icily, but inside the blankets warmth began to grow.
It was a curiously sweet and tender episode. Between Andrea’s shoulder, the confinement of the truck, and the deadly threat of the cold, their kisses could not evolve into passion. Instead they savored the warmth and closeness, the gentle, lingering comfort of lips and tongues. It was enough to hold and be held, to kiss and be kissed. They both began to realize what they’d been missing.
Finally they simply leaned against one another, content and comforted. There was a world of
difference in Dare’s mind between an embrace and a hug. He was hugging Andrea, and she him. It occurred to him he couldn’t have picked a worse person to make the object of that kind of affection. Andrea was a career woman, determined to pursue her goals. There was pain waiting for him at the end of this road. Sighing, he drew her a little closer. He was old enough to understand that all good things had a price. You just had to decide whether something was worth it.
“Penny?” said Andrea from where she was nestled against his shoulder.
“I was just thinking how huggable you are.”
“Mmm. I like the way that sounds. You’re huggable, too.”
“Am I?” He’d never thought of himself that way. It pleased him.
“You are.” She snuggled closer. In their warm cocoon, cut off from the world, it was easy to forget everything, and Andrea let herself do just that. She understood that eventually reality would intrude, but for the moment she refused to care.
He raised his hand to cradle her cheek. “Was it rough being Charlie Burke’s daughter?” he asked.
The perception of the question amazed Andrea. People who knew her father always assumed he was a great dad, that he’d encouraged Andrea’s independence and her Air Force career. In fact, he’d seized every opportunity to try to grind her down and turn her into a submissive, dependent female. There wasn’t anything personal in it. It was just the way Charlie Burke thought women ought to be. In fact, the only thing in the world tougher than being Charlie Burke’s daughter was being Charlie Burke’s son.
It was her brothers who had saved Andrea from her intended fate by treating her as one of them, by expecting her to play their games and take part in their escapades. Being kids, they just didn’t know how else to treat a sister, particularly one whose competitive spirit was fierce. She never hesitated, so it never occurred to them to balk.
“Sometimes it was rough,” she admitted, intensely aware of Dare’s thumb stroking her cheek. His gentleness continually amazed her. He looked hard, tough, competent, yet when he held her, he made her feel precious and safe. He managed to treat her as if she were fragile without in any way diminishing her strength and independence. It was a dangerously addicting sensation.
“You have so many contrasts, Andrea,” Dare said suddenly. “That night I was in the accident, you were so easy and boyish. I distinctly remember deciding that you were going to be a handful. Then there’s the prickly pear cactus who glares at me when I step on her toes. And there’s the smartmouth who slips her zingers almost unnoticed into the conversation. There’s the cool, capable officer with a steady gaze, and there’s the tough cookie who can dress a trooper down with all the punch of Patton. And then there’s this Andrea.”
“What’s this Andrea?” There was a smile in her voice.
“This Andrea is a soft, warm, wonderful woman who can put her arms around a man and make him feel like he’s come home.”
Andrea lifted her head. “Dare,” she said uneasily.
“Leave it alone, Andrea,” he said gently. “I’m old enough to know what I’m doing. You’ll forget your damn career long before I do.”
She was surprised to realize that she believed him. He would be the last one of them to forget all the obstacles in their path.
For Dare, the night was endless. He had wadded a blanket and slipped it between him and the door to provide insulation, then stretched out, his long legs on the passenger side floor, his back wedged against the blanket and seat. Andrea lay half over him, her face burrowed into his shoulder, one hand tucked into the warmth of his armpit. His own arms were wrapped snugly around her waist inside her parka. Every time he drew a breath, her warmth and sweetly feminine scent wafted into his nostrils. They kept each other warm, but it was more than Andrea’s body heat that raised Dare’s temperature.
Andrea slept, but Dare kept watch over her, so there was no escape from the tingling in his loins that kept trying to turn into a full throbbing. He’d never been a promiscuous man, had never indulged in casual relationships. Such things just didn’t appeal to him. Consequently the span since his last relationship could be counted in years. Too many years, to judge by his present discomfort.
The fact that Andrea really wasn’t his type made his attraction to her all the more serious. Like Andrea, he’d been raised in a large family of boys, but on a ranch in Montana, where life had been hard. His mother had died while he was still very young, so there had been no female influence in his life. It was the femininity of women that usually attracted him, their softness and gentleness, their ruffles and frills, their perfume and long hair. He was attracted to all the things that his life had always lacked.
Andrea enticed him with none of those things. In so many ways, his relationship with her was no different from his relationship with his male officers. He could easily see her becoming a poker buddy, or a drinking buddy, or even a hunting buddy. He could not, hard as he might try, imagine her in any typical female role. Yet on those rare occasions when they gave free rein to the man-woman urges between them, he found her incredibly feminine, irresistibly sexy. Why?
Why did she feel so right in his arms, even now, when it was sheer torment? Why did he take such delight at the spark of annoyance in her eyes, or the way she bedeviled him and zinged him? Why, when she was being cool, collected, competent Captain Burke, did she make him feel like he was a man in possession of a wonderful secret?
Sighing, he shifted just a little and then nearly groaned when the movement brought her hip into more intimate contact with him. If he weren’t a gentleman, he would slip his hands up inside her uniform blouse and find out if her skin was as satiny as it looked. It probably was, damn it. And those better-than-standard-issue breasts were probably high and pink-tipped. And her fanny, which he’d eyeballed from time to time when she wore slacks, was gently rounded and ever so slightly fuller than average in a way that made him want to—
He muttered an oath and forced his mind from such thoughts. He might be going crazy, but there was no point in being masochistic about it. The woman had made it clear that she would do nothing to risk her career, so he’d better just focus his thoughts on something safe, like work.
Rescue arrived before dawn. The winds had quieted enough that the blowing snow snaked along at ground level, leaving visibility unlimited. A drift had grown against one side of the truck, nearly covering it, but Sergeant Nickerson was able to walk around and open the door on Andrea’s side.
He found the two officers shivering and exhausted but otherwise all right. Andrea never wanted to see another candy bar.
“We’ll send someone out for the truck later, sir, ma’am,” Nickerson said. “Right now, let’s just get you two to the hospital.”
“Forget the hospital,” Andrea snapped. “Just take me to the chow hall. I’m gonna drink a gallon of coffee.”
Dare and Nickerson eyed one another over Andrea’s head, sharing a look of masculine patience.
“Chow hall,” said Dare after a moment.
Nickerson nodded. “Yes, sir.” He reached up to help Andrea down, but she brushed his hand away, insisting that she could get out of the truck under her own steam.
She managed it, too, in spite of nearly tripping over the blanket, being able to steady herself with only one hand and discovering that hypothermia had affected her coordination. When she climbed into the crew cab of Nickerson’s truck, the blast from the heater was painful to her cold skin.
The sun was just beginning its slow rise when they cleared the main gate and drove onto the base. This far north, it didn’t have all that far to lift. It was going to be a clear, bright, cold day.
Nickerson pulled into the parking lot near the chow hall, and the three of them went inside to begin the day the way Andrea thought it should begin, with a gallon of coffee, bacon, and eggs. She was still shivering somewhat, but it didn’t take long for the coffee to thaw her.
Gradually the world began to return to normal. The night had been an aberration, she told
herself. It was the danger that had brought her and Dare together in a brief time of openness and gentleness. It was over, and time to forget it.
“How come you decided to go out to Romeo, ma’am?” Nickerson asked.
Andrea looked up from her plate, telling herself that it was her tiredness that made Nickerson’s question seem out of line. She lifted one brow and paused before answering. Nickerson had been working with her for two years, she reminded herself. Like a lot of high-ranking sergeants, he treated young officers in a somewhat fatherly fashion. Or maybe it just seemed out of line because she couldn’t answer truthfully. Dare had made it clear that no one but he and Andrea was to know about the OSI investigation.
“Why do I ever go out to the sites, Sergeant?” she asked coolly.
Dare noticed that Nickerson didn’t miss Andrea’s zingers, either. The sergeant, who was accustomed to Andrea calling him Nick, retreated instantly.
“None of my business, ma’am,” he said.
Andrea ate a piece of egg. “No, it’s not,” she agreed. “In point of fact, I hadn’t been out to a couple of those sites in too long. My timing was atrocious, I guess.” She was aware that that left the question of why Dare had gone with her. “Nick, have you heard anything about a crap game out at Romeo Four Two?”
Nickerson looked surprised. “No, ma’am,” he said swiftly. “I can’t believe—no, ma’am, I sure haven’t. Wouldn’t be much of a crap game with only a couple of guys.”
“There are mobile units, too, Nick. It would be easy enough for them to get in on it.”
Nickerson nodded slowly. “I’ll sure keep my ear to the ground. But ma’am, I just don’t think—”
“Unthinkable things happen, Nick.”
Let him put that in his pipe and smoke it, Andrea thought. He probably figured she’d gone round the bend. That was fine. He would quit asking questions, and after a week or so he’d probably decide this had been a temporary aberration on her part.
She shoved back her chair. “I’m still starved,” she announced and took her plate back to the chow line.
Blogger Bundle Volume VIII: SBTB's Harlequins That Hooked You Page 67