Rogue Soldier by Dana Marton

delay as possible.
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    T HE FIRST TIME she woke, it was to a sharp pain in her feet. They seemed to be freezing. They were freezing! The cabin was dark; no glow came from the stove below. Their fire had gone out.
    She was pressed against Mike, snuggled into the nook below his chin, his arms around her. They were clearly on his side of the bed, so she couldn’t even be mad at him for taking advantage. She had gone to him—for heat, nothing else. Her exhausted body had migrated toward the nearest heat source in the cold night.
    She sat up and reached over him, trying to get the lamp without having to come out from under the covers. He came awake and alert instantly, seizing her, making her sprawl on top of him.
    â€œTess?” he murmured in a sleep heavy voice and pulled her up, rubbed his large hands down her arms. “You’re cold.”
    They were face-to-face, just about every inch of their bodies touching.
    â€œThe fire is out. I’m going to start a new one.” She lifted up to pull away.
    He gathered her back to him. “Stay. I’ll warm you.”
    He had tried to get her warm when they’d gone to bed, but she had resisted the temptation. She wasn’t going to fall into the trap now. She was almost twenty-eight. Old enough to know better.
    â€œLet go,” she said in a voice that would have made the toughest drill sergeant proud.
    â€œWhy are you doing this to us?”
    â€œThere is no us.” The sooner he accepted that the better. “You ended us three years ago.”
    â€œYou walked out.”
    â€œYou gave me some damned good reasons.”
    And there they were, at a stalemate again. She rolled off him.
    â€œYou stay here. I’ll go.” He grabbed the lamp andlit it, was on his feet before she could think of any good reasons why she should protest.
    Let him go, if his macho ego needed to do it. He had to handle everything, never could accept that she was strong enough, never could take her for an equal. It was one of the things that had undermined their relationship, more so perhaps than that last night at the hotel when everything had blown up.
    She snuggled into the covers that were rapidly losing heat without him, relieved when ten minutes later he slipped back in. She made sure she stayed on her own side.
    â€œOkay, I’ll knock it off. I won’t try anything. Come back here, at least until the fire gets going good. There’s no sense in getting sick just to make a point.”
    She was freezing, curled up into a ball on her side. She inched closer, making sure to keep her back to him. She stopped as soon as she could feel his body heat, without actually touching.
    â€œYou have got to be the most stubborn woman.” He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her closer, spooning her body with his. “Go to sleep.”
    He left his arm around her, and it felt so good she didn’t have it in her to push him away.
    The bear, she thought, forcing her mind to other things. They would have to be careful when they left the cabin. And the wildlife was only a small part ofthe danger that awaited them. She had a feeling that, come first light, the CIA chopper would be back.
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    T HE NEXT TIME she woke, it was to the sounds of a motor, and she scrambled around for the rifle she couldn’t find, registering that she was alone in bed. Her body clock said it was morning, but no light filtered in from outside.
    â€œMike?”
    She looked over the edge of the loft and found the main room empty. The fire was burning hot in the stove. He’d been up for some time.
    The sound of the motor wasn’t coming from above. It came from outside the cabin. She made it down the ladder just as Mike walked in.
    â€œI found a generator in the shed,” he said with a huge grin on his freshly shaven face, dragging an electric cord behind him.
    A small transformer and the radio were already set up on the table. He hooked up everything,