doing directly after their team meeting. "Let's get to it," Stephen said, the two of them oblivious to the tension in the room. Jimmy came in next, his eyes suddenly measured and assessing as he looked back and forth between the commander and pilot. "What's going on?" "Nothing," Corrine said quickly. Too quickly, damn it. She felt herself starting to crumble. They could see something, some crack in her control, and she knew it would be beyond awful if she didn't get it together right here, right now. "We're just getting ready for the meeting, going over some notes." Jimmy's eyebrows came together as he studied her. And now Frank and Stephen were more closely assessing her as well. "Did we miss something?" "Yeah. The doughnuts," Mike said, shocking Corrine with his rescue, especially since she'd jumped all over him the last time he'd done that. "There were doughnuts and you ate them al?" Stephen sighed. "You owe me, Wright." "Two kinds of people on this team," Mike said, still looking at Corrine. "The quick and the hungry. Frank laughed. "Wel, color me hungry then." "Damn," Jimmy said, pulling out a chair. Stephen waggled a finger beneath Mike's nose. "You're buying lunch, pal. With dessert." Corrine managed a smile as she grabbed her clipboard. "Lunch is on me. We'll be needing to calorie up for this afternoon's SIM." Among the pretend groans and eye roling, she dared a glance at Mike. He looked back at her steadily, and utterly without expression. Not once since they'd first met had the heat and even basic affection been gone from his gaze. Not once. It was gone now. Good. Just as she'd wanted. But her throat burned and her chest felt tight as a drum. And for the first time, she had to wonder what she'd sacrificed in the name of success and her job. FOR THE NEXT MONTH Corrine didn't have time to so much as breathe, nor did anyone else associated with the mission. Stil, Mike was everywhere—in her SIM, in her meetings, at her side... and in her dreams. At work they did nothing but simulation after simulation. Everything from this point on would be a run-through of the upcoming mission, only a month away now. Everything they did, they did as a team. So she was constantly with Mike. Her frozen heart, along with all its complicated, newly defrosted emotions, left her with no defenses. During one particularly grueling afternoon, when things weren't going right, her first instinct was to bark out orders and get the team back on track. But two words stopped her. Ice Queen. Walking the length of the hangar, consulting her clipboard and trying to smooth out a dozen things at once, she happened to catch sight of herself, reflected in a shiny control panel. Her hair was clipped back, not a strand out of place. She wore little makeup and no smile, making her appear... stern. The Ice Queen. Around her was controlled chaos as her team prepared for yet another simulated flight, but she went stock-still. Was she really as stern as she looked? She didn't want to think so. She was as fun-loving and ful of joy as anyone else. So why did she look so hard? Pulling her lips back, she attempted a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. Standing there, she tried to think of something funny, something that would evoke a genuine smile. Leaning closer to her reflection, she racked her brain and— "Need a mirror, Commander?" The half-ass smile froze in place. Moving her eyes from her reflection to the one that had appeared right next to her, she groaned. Mike, of course. "What are you doing?" She straightened up as if she hadn't just been practicing ridiculous smiles at herself in the reflective panel of a space shuttle. "Watching you watch yourself." He leaned back, making himself comfortable. He was always comfortable, damn him. "That's some smile you've got there, Commander." "Why do you keep calling me that?" "Because that's what you are, remember? My commander. Nothing more, nothing less." Wel. Her own doing, that, so there was no reason to get her feelings hurt. "You ought to try using it more." For just a moment, his eyes roamed over her face like a sweet touch, before he caught himself and looked away. "The smile, that is." She'd used her smile plenty with him, mostly in bed. At that thought, she bent down, pretending to study a panel, but it was merely an excuse to gather herself. Yet the facade she wore like a coat wouldn't work this time, because it would only prove his point. Oh hell, why did she even care? She didn't. She'd just have to be the woman she always was, and if he chose to misunderstand, then so much the better. It would remind her of her own foolishness. While she was hunkered down, contemplating all this, a hand appeared in front of her face. Mike's hand. She stared at those reaching fingers. With any other man, she'd have taken the gesture as an insult, because she could get up herself and always had. But with Mike, she knew it had nothing at all to do with her capabilities, or his perception of them. He was simply being a gentleman. Which meant she was a lady, at least in his eyes. Well, she'd been a lady and more with him, hadn't she? Silently she took his hand and rose. Together they joined the team on the other side of the hangar, and all moved into place for their SIM. For this particular exercise—simulating the landing at the space station, the "parking" and the subsequent unloading—Mike and she had to sit side by side in a relatively small space, with little natural light, mostly just the blue-green glare from the glowing controls. Even the air felt constricted, creating an intimate ambience that was almost too much to take. With every passing second, as Corrine worked the controls, she became more and more aware of him. She couldn't even breathe without his scent filling her lungs. Did he mean to be so overwhelming with his presence? Did he know that his dark eyes drew her, that every time he swallowed, his Adam's apple danced and she felt the insane urge to put her mouth to that very spot? Did he know that his rolled-up sleeves, so carelessly shoved up his strong arms, made her want to reach out and touch? That when she leaned to the right, her shoulder brushed his broader, stronger one? And that she kept doing it on purpose for the small thrill of it? He didn't look at her, but had dropped into the "zone" where he was utterly calm and totaly focused, ready for anything. As she should have been. She'd nearly managed it when their fingers tangled as they both reached for the same control. Her eye caught his, and though he was completely into his work, something flickered there, warmed. It should be against the code of space travel to be so sexy, she thought, and turned away to focus on unloading the cargo. And when, two minutes later, one of the solar panels malfunctioned during the unfurling, it took her a moment to understand it wasn't her fault, that it had nothing to do with what she was feeling for her pilot. The broken equipment was only a prototype for the real component, one of three that had been built for exactly these practice missions, but that made it no less of a problem. It required sending hordes of engineers back to the drawing board, soothing freaked-out NASA officials and dealing with the press, who were dying to put a negative spin on the price of the space program. Hours and hours later, when Corrine finally took a moment to draw a deep breath, she escaped to the staff kitchen. Mike had gotten there first. He said nothing, just lifted the milk carton he held as if in a silent toast. A job well done? Is that what he meant? "Thanks for your hard work today," she said. He took a long swig, then licked his upper lip. "You worked harder than any of us. Did anyone thank you?" "No." "They should have." He stayed where he was, which was unlike him, but then again, she'd made it pretty clear that's what she wanted. A lot of space between them. "Then thank you," he said simply. "You've done a great job." "For an Ice Queen." "What?" "I've done a good job, for an Ice Queen. Isn't that what you meant?" He actually looked surprised, then slowly shook his head. "You still stewing over that?" Apparently so. How terribly revealing. "I would have apologized. Should have apologized." He looked at her for a long second, then let out a hard breath. "I was mad at you, Corrine. I wanted to break through and see, if only for a moment, the woman beneath the tough veneer, the woman I've laughed with, talked to, made love with. I was frustrated and hot and full of temper, a bad combo on any day." "You're saying that was just temper talking?" "As in do I really think of you as an Ice Queen?" He stepped closer, touched her hair. "I don't want to. God, I don't want to." But he did, she thought. His voice lowered. Softened. Became irresistible. "I hurt you. I'm sorry for that, Corrine. So sorry." He was sorry, which left her floundering, because without her anger, everything else pushed and shoved its way to the surface. It was that everything else she couldn't handle. As USUAL, she slept alone, haunted by dreams ofwarm, loving arms holding her, pressing her against a long, hard, muscled body that knew exactly how to give and what to take. She woke up hot, damp and frustrated, and wrapped around her pillow. A bad start, to say the least, and the day didn't improve from there. A critical communications program, brand-new for this mission, crashed. Another catastrophe, and another rush for the drawing board. By the end of the day she was tense, tired and maybe more than a tad irritable. Grumbling to herself, she went to the staff room for scalding, black coffee... and ran into Mike. He wasn't drinking milk this time, wasn't doing anything but standing near the coffeepot. She wondered if maybe he'd been waiting there for her. "You going to thank me again for a job well done?" she asked, more than a little caustically. She couldn't help it. If ever she'd deserved her Ice Queen title, it had been today. "After all, I've worked pretty damn hard these past hours, yelling at computer programmers, scaring engineers, terrorizing rogue reporters, etcetera." "Yeah, I'm going to thank you." He smiled at her dare, deflating her anger with nothing more than his presence. "You saved our butts today. You saved our butts yesterday, too, and you know what? I think you're magnificent." "I..." How did he do that, render her speechless? "I don't know what to say to you." His mouth curved. "You never do, when it comes to a compliment." The way he looked at her made her suddenly long for the simplicity of what they shared only when they were in bed. His eyes darkened. "I'd give anything to hear your thought, the one that made your cheeks flush hot." "Not a chance." "Damn." "I figured you were still mad at me." "Mad?" He slowly shook his head. "I've been a lot of things when it comes to you, most of whichyou don't want to hear, so think good and hard, Corrine, before you open up this can of worms." She might have done just that, if her beeper hadn't suddenly gone off. An emergency page, she discovered, which didn't bode well. What else can go wrong? she wondered, rushing through the maze of hallways. "Anything," Mike said grimly, startling her, because she hadn't realized he'd come along or that she'd spoken out loud. It was the robotic arm, they discovered a few moments later, which was now malfunctioning after Stephen's weight had been on it, while he was working on a relaying function. "Defunct," Stephen called down in disgust. The arm, too, was just a prototype, but a malfunction was a malfunction. Corrine didn't hesitate to climb up, pushing aside all the technicians to get there. Then dug right in, barking suggestions and orders, and more suggestions. Two hours later, they'd solved the problem. By the time Corrine climbed down, she was exhausted, had a headache and could eat a horse. Mike wasn't in the kitchen this time as she finally grabbed her things and prepared to go home, but he was in the parking lot, getting into his rental car. When he saw her, he went still, carefully studying her face for a long moment. Always uncomfortable with scrutiny, she shifted. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?" "Nothing. Forget it." But he pocketed his keys and moved toward her with that long-legged stride of his. He'd worked all day, too, right by her side, but he didn't look as rumpled as she felt, not at al. His sleeves were stil shoved back, and maybe his shirt was a little wrinkled from where he'd been crawling around on the robotic arm alongside her, but he looked...well, unbearably familiar, and unbearably sexy. Reaching out, he tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "You look beat." His voice was low, soft. Gentle. His fingers onher cheek, where they lingered, were tender. Damn him for all the inconsistencies! And damn him for stil, after al this time, being able to melt her with nothing more than a half smile and the touch of a finger on her skin. "You're an amazing woman, Corrine," he said quietly, with a different tight in his gaze than she'd ever seen before. Was that...respect she saw there now? Respect and—oh God, he was leaning down to kiss her. Just once, and ever so softly. It took everything she had not to cling to that soft, yet firm mouth. Yes, it was respect in his gaze; she could see that now as he pulled back. And even more irresistible, there was heart, too. Terrifying, that heart and its emotions, because she'd never received that from anyone other thanher family before. She couldn't resist. "Mike." Slipping his fingers along her jaw, he skimmed the pad of his thumb over her lips, holding her words in. "Night, Corrine." As she watched him drive away, standing there alone in the NASA parking lot, she had to face an uncomfortable realization. Her life wasn't nearly as complete as she thought it was, not now that she understood some of what she was missing. 10 THEY WERE IN THE FINAL stages, coming into the home stretch before the launch. With a month left to go, Mike's days were wild, chaotic and nerve-racking. They were the most exciting days of his life. Exhausting, too. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a full night's sleep and a decent meal, but he wouldn't have changed his life at the moment for anything. Wel, actualy, he amended, looking across the large hangar to where he could see Corrine pointing and directing several crew members, there was one thing he would change if he could. His relationship with Corrine. It had started out on a whim, that night three months ago. A thrilling sexual adventure, and it had flamed hot and bright. Still flamed hot and bright, only now she pretended it didn't exist, and he'd let her. He'd been willing to let her pretend forever, thinking no woman, no matter how great in bed, was worth the upheaval that the demanding, incorrigible, unforgiving, passionate, determined Corrine Atkinson would cause in his life. But that had been
when he'd considered only the sexual nature of their relationship. Now, after working with her day in and day out, for weeks and weeks, he felt differently. He knew what it took to make her smile, even laugh. Knew how to make her entire face light up with the thrill of what they were doing. Knew how she thought, and what she wanted out of her day. And incredibly, he could no longer remember what it was to want her only physically, because that want had deepened. Grown. Hell, it had skyrocketed, if the truth was told. He wanted it all. Their day was done now, and it was actually early enough that if he wanted, he could go home and have a life until bedtime. But he didn't want to go home—not alone, anyway. He wanted the company of a woman. Not just any woman, but one he knew, and who knew him. One who could simply look at him and know that he needed her body close to his, her arms around his neck and her mouth curved in a smile just for him. Corrine. He wanted Corrine. Slowly, he walked toward her, watching as everyone called out their good-nights to her. For most she had parting words, advice, comments, commands, and it made him smile. He couldn't believe it, but along the way, he'd actually come to enjoy the fact that she was higher ranked than him. He liked her demanding ways. In fact, at this moment, he ached for her to look at him, with her will of steel, and demand something special of him. Of course, he doubted she'd think his thoughts appropriate—or his erection, for that matter. Tough luck. She and Stephen were high above him now, ona platform. They were studying the west bay of the shuttle prototype. Corrine was pointing, using her hands as she talked. As always, she was oblivious to the height, to the danger, to how absolutely appealing she looked. Any other womanwould be.. .but she wasn't any other woman. After another few minutes, Stephen came down, looking beat. When he saw Mike, he shook his head. "I need sleep, even if she doesn't," he grumbled, and left. When Corrine came down, he could see she was lost in thought, probably calculating something in her head, or formulating some new way to torture her team tomorrow. Whatever it was, it gave him the advantage, as she clearly believed herself alone. She hopped off the last rung of the ladder, turned and plowed right into him. Stiffening, she gasped. Mike used the opportunity to put his hands on her arms in the pretext of holding her steady, though there was no one steadier than Corrine Atkinson. "Mike." "In the flesh." His fingers brushed the bare skin of her forearms, then slid up beneath her short sleeves to skim over her shoulders. She shivered. "What are you doing?" "Working for a woman is very satisfying, did you know that?" "Mike." "Know what else? I've been unfair to both of us, letting us get away with ignoring each other." "Don't be silly, we—" She broke off with a harsh intake of breath when his thumbs brushed the sides of her breasts. "Stop that." "Think how good an orgasm would be for your stress level right now." "Mike!" Because she smelled so good, and looked so annoyed, yet bewildered, he rubbed his jaw against hers. He'd meant only to soothe, but like a cat, she stretched against him, and the thought of soothing fled from his mind, replaced by something far deeper. And hotter. Concentrate, he told himself. Screw this up now and you won't get another chance. "I don't want you to ignore me anymore." "We haven't been ignoring each other. As you've mentioned, we work together, every single day." "You know what I mean. You think you can't let anyone in your life, that you have to be one big, bad, tough woman to make it in this world." Beneath his hands, she stiffened, and he touched her face lightly, lifting her chin up to look into her eyes. "Any response to that?" "I'm considering several." Because her eyes were flashing and her body was tense, he held her tight, knowing, now, that she held black belts in several different martial arts. "Okay, let's skip to me," he said quickly. "I believed I didn't need anyone in my life because it was so full already. Women had a place there, but it wasn't a very big one. But you know what, Corrine?" "I can't imagine." "I was wrong." He laughed in delight at her one raised brow. "I know, can you believe it? Wrong. Dead wrong. And guess what, baby? You were wrong, too." "I don't know what you're talking about." "Oh, yes, you do." He smiled, feeling some sympathy because he understood the fear that he knew was coursing through her veins. He understood it well. "This has been a long time coming," he murmured, wondering just how alone they were, and whether, if he kissed her now, he'd ever be able to stop. But he cupped her face, tilted it to suit him, and bent. She slapped a hand to his chest. "Someone will see!" "Everyone has left." He touched her mouth with his. She gasped and he simply used that to his advantage, deepening the kiss. When she met his tongue with her own, his knees nearly buckled. "Corrine," he whispered, pulling back to gaze into her eyes. "I know this looks impossible." "It is impossible." He set a finger to her lips. "So we work together. Lots of couples do, and—" "Couples?" she choked out. "My God, Mike. We're not a couple!" "I know, that word's hard to wrap your tongue around, much less your brain. But I can't imagine my life without you in it." He let out a harsh laugh and shook his head. "Can you believe it? Me saying those words? But it's the utter, terrifying truth. I have no idea what's happened to me—wait, I do know. It's you. You've happened to me. I want you, control freak or not—" "Now, wait a minute—" "In fact, I like that about you. You know what you want, you're not afraid to go get it, with the exception being, of course.. .me." She just stared at him. "I think you inhaled too much oxygen on that last SIM." "And you know what else?" he asked her cheerfully. "I even like that you're higher ranked than me." "You're a sick man, Mike." "Look, if you're worried about the people here, and what they think, this mission will be over soon enough, and then we'll both be reassigned for other missions." "What are you saying?" she cried, wide-eyed. "My God, Mike, what are you saying?" "That we should give in to what we feel for each other." She shook her head, so sidetracked she'd forgotten he still held her. "But I don't know what I feel." "Then let's explore that." Nibbling at one corner of her mouth, then the other, he slowly pulled back. Her eyes were half-closed, sleepy and sexy. Her mouth, wet from his, pulled into a pout when he didn't kiss her again, making him let out a laugh that turned into a groan when he looked down and saw her hardened nipples pressing against the fabric of her blouse. "Cold, Corrine?" "No." Her voice was low. Almost harsh. "Damn you, I'd almost stopped dreaming about you, almost stopped waking up hot and bothered." "Really?" "No," she said miserably. Now he did grin, and when she saw it, she pushed him back, walking away. "I need...air," she said over her shoulder. Needing some himself, he followed, but she stopped in the hallway in front of her office. She stared at the door and he stared at her slim back, wondering if she could possibly be feeling half of what he was. Turning only her head, she looked at him, and there was no mistaking her need, her hunger. Slowly she opened the door. Flicked off the light. Stepped inside the darkened room and turned to face him. "I've obviously lost my head, but... would you care to come in?" He moved so fast, coming in, shutting and then locking the door, fumbling with his jacket, that she let out a low laugh that was unbearably erotic in its sudden confidence. "We're really going to do this?" "Yes." He came forward in the dim light shining through her slated blinds, to haul her close. "Now kiss me like you did in my dreams last night." "It will help, right?" she asked. "If we appease this...this heat now? Then maybe we won't implode on our mission, when we're locked in space together for ten long days." He didn't know how to tell her that he was beginning to suspect they'd always be this desperate for each other. Always. That word was a doozy. It went along with others, like forever. And love. Oh God. He needed to sit down. "Mike?" Corrine nervously licked her lips in an innocent, artless way that went straight to his gut. And then his heart. And suddenly he felt strong, so very, very strong. "Is this crazy?" she whispered, covering her face. "What are we doing?" "What we were born to do." He took her hands and pinned them behind her, which left her bodythrust against his. His voice was far thicker than it had been. "Let's make love." "And get it out of our system." "Hmm," he murmured noncommittally. Corrine was beginning to wonder if that was even possible, but she couldn't think effectively with her attention so drawn to his wonderful, firm, masculine mouth. "We really shouldn't. You know that." He drew her closer, but didn't kiss her, just held her until her entire body was throbbing with need. "Love that," he murmured. "The connection. Can you feel it?" "What is it, exactly?" she asked, needing to know. But instead of answering, he unbuttoned her blouse, unhooked her bra, pulling the material away from her body. Then he just looked at her for a long, long moment before slowly shaking his head in wonder. Touching a nipple with his finger, he watched intently as it puckered and darkened for him. "So pretty." Silly, really, how just a few words from him could make her lose her head. "Here, Mike?" He smiled against her throat. "Oh yeah, here. And everywhere." "What if someone comes?" "Everyone is gone." Turning, she swept everything on her desk to the floor with one swipe, watching as the piles of paper hit with a thunk. "I've always wanted to do that." Laughing, Mike helped her up, then stepped between her thighs. He undid her slacks and slipped his hands inside her panties, holding her bottom, pulling her close to a most impressive erection. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pressed her face into his neck and breathed deeply of the masculine scent that had haunted her for months. With his big, warm hands he squeezed her bottom, then cupped her breasts, plumping them up, dipping his mouth down to taste, using his tongue and then his teeth until her hips jerked in reaction. "Mike." "I know." "Hurry." "Take everything off, then," he said in a rough whisper, and lent his own hands to the cause. In two seconds flat they were both stripped. Corrine had barely straightened up before Mike slipped his hands between her thighs, opening them wide. "Mmm, you're wet." Yes. Wet and hot, and she'd made his fingers that way, too, the fingers that were softly stroking, over and over again, until she was arching up into him, helplessly thrusting against that hand. "Mike!" "Tell me." "Don't stop." To make sure he wouldn't, that he couldn't, she closed her legs around him and that hand, shamelessly rubbing and writhing, desperate for more, for the touch that would send her reeling. "I need to—" "Then do it," he urged, leaning down and drawing one nipple into his mouth, sucking it as he slid a finger inside her. She would have fallen backward if he hadn't brought one hand to her waist to support her. Now that finger withdrew slowly—so slowly she thought she'd scream—only to dance over and over her with infinite, thorough patience. At every pass she cried out his name. "Come for me," he coaxed, his mouth full of breast, his fingers diving back into her. "Come for me, baby." And she did. She exploded. Imploded. Burst out of herself. Al of that and more, and when she could hear again, see again, she realized she had him in a death grip and was still chanting his name. Mike was breathing every bit as harshly as she. Lifting his head, he looked at her, his eyes hot and dark, so very dark. Cupping his face, she kissed him. "We're not done." He smiled and sighed reverently, pulling a little packet out of his wallet. Boldly she took the condom and put it on, not as easy a feat as she'd have imagined. By the time she was done, he was trembling and she couldn't get him inside her fast enough. "No," he said when she tried to pull him onto the desk with her. "It won't hold us." The desk was old and rickety, and making loud, creaking, protesting noises, but with Mike stroking her halfway back to bliss, she couldn't think. He craned his neck and looked toward the shelving unit, making her laugh breathlessly. "Not the shelves." Scooping her up, he started toward them anyway, and she wasn't so far gone that she couldn't imagine them collapsing to the floor in a loud heap that would bring the custodian running. "Mike, no." He turned abruptly, and before she could say another word, he had her against the office door. She'd barely spread her thighs when he buried himself deeply inside her. At the feel of him filling her beyond full, her eyes fluttered closed, her heart raged. Her senses soared. "Yes." Another powerful stroke pounded both her and the door, and she cried out again, completely lost, as always with him. She might have been terrified, even furious, at his mastery over her, but if his hoarse groan and quivering limbs were any indication, he was just as lost as she. And then he lifted his head, his eyes dark with passion, need and a hunger so fierce it took her breath. Holding her gaze captive within his, he started to take them both right over the edge. "Look at me," he all but growled. "I am. Mike, I am." "Don't stop. Don't ever stop seeing me, even after—" He broke off when she tossed her head back and arched against him, already shuddering with another orgasm. He folowed. They were still damp and trembling, and still quite breathless, when the knock came at the door. "Corrine?" It was Stephen, and he sounded worried. And wary. "We heard some banging," he caled out. "Just wanted to make sure you were okay. Corrine?" Horrified, stunned and still wrapped around Mike as if she'd been trying to climb his body—which of course she had!—she went utterly still, staring at Mike. Mike, who'd promised her they were alone. "Corrine? Is that Mike in there with you?" "I'll be right with you," she somehow managed to reply. Which was worse? Being caught in this compromising position, with Mike still buried deep inside her, or the look on his face? A look that didn't hold surprise so much as acceptance. "How did this happen?" she whispered. "My God, Mike, you said they were gone. You didn't do this on purpose, did you?" He didn't so much as blink, but let go of her thighs so she could slide down his still hard, still hot body. She stood there, naked and shaking, as fury mounted, along with humiliation. "You did." Turning away, he reached for his pants, the long, leanly muscled lines of his sleek back drawing her even now. "Is that what you think?" he asked.