She woke to a confused and blurry sight. Darkness all around. Quiet, so still she wondered for a second if she were dead. Then she turned her head and caught the faint outline of the darkening hillside below them. It all came back to her in a rush. Their escape from their captors. Again. The mad dash through the mine shafts until they’d found the air shaft. Up and out. Then more running, until her legs protested and she tripped more often than she didn’t. Hours later, dropping to the ground numerous times and hugging the desert sand surrounded by low-growing shrubs, hiding from their captors, who were searching endlessly for them. Relentlessly.

She didn’t think she’d ever get the smell of the sand and dirt from her nose. It was permanently imprinted on her mind. So were the peculiar scents of the broom grass and buck thorn, which she had stuck her hands into numerous times, their stalks thorny. In the occasional breeze, she smelled the sweet tang of figs. She didn’t recognize any additional species of shrubs dotting the desert soil, riddled with rocks and boulders with no apparent source. Had they rolled down from the nearby mountains during rare rainstorms, or had they been here for millennia?

It was such thoughts, smells, and sensations that she recalled as she lay still, recalling. Sophia turned her head again, saw Declan close by, back leaning against the side of a shallow cave high up on a slope.

She had slept away the memory of hiking up and hiding in one of the cave mouths. She had forgotten, for a split second, why Declan was right with her.

She was so tired.

After the journey, her body sore from it and from the various beatings and escapes she’d had to endure, Sophia could barely keep her head up and steady. Half groggy still, she nevertheless felt the need for human contact. She slowly shuffled closer to Declan, bit back a groan as she sat up and like him, leaned against the side of the cave, close to him, allowing her head to settle on the side of his upper arm. He grunted and mumbled for her to rest. To sleep. She did, slumping against him. He leaned against her, supporting her head. He had taken on so much of the weight in the last several hours, so much of her burden. She dimly recalled him bodily lifting her at one point, throwing her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, stumbling beneath her weight but pressing forward. Her heart skipped a beat at the memory. He had—and continued—to sacrifice so much for her. She hoped someday she could repay the favor.

Sleep was coming on again . . . It was probably best that she get it now rather than later.

She heard the voices in her dreams, too, increasingly foreign, increasingly deep and close and menacing. When she awoke, there was nothing but silence. And then the faint wisp of wind kicking up across the entrance to the cave. Nothing but darkness, wind, and Declan’s steady shoulder keeping her supported. It felt like he hadn’t moved an inch the whole time she was asleep. She almost worried he was unconscious, finally succumbing to his injuries.

She whispered his name, the sound of it matching the tone of the wind. She said it again, this time reaching over to pat his shoulder.

“Hi,” Declan said, calmly. “How are you doing?”

“I’m cold.” It wasn’t exactly true. She was shivering slightly, but not from temperature. She just needed some comforting, but didn’t know how to say it.

“Here, let’s shift position a little.” He turned, and in moments he had shifted closer, pulling her back up against his chest, his legs outstretched and straddling hers. “Lean back against me,” he said.

She did. He felt warm and solid and . . . sexy. Oh, to be comforted like this felt wonderful.

Perhaps he had some other ideas. Sophia knew that she had some better ideas. But the timing was horrible. The thought that she could even consider closer contact at a time like this surprised her. Human instinct? The innate desire to overcome, to survive? To feel emotion?

She felt his hands rest gently on her shoulders. She caught her breath as he began to gently knead the tension from them. Oh, God, it felt so good, and she wasn’t about to stop him. She wouldn’t say no to his comfort, his hand now caressing over her shoulder, up her neck, which was relaxing as all the stress disappeared from her sore muscles. Her eyed half closed, she sighed, wished that she’d met him at another time, in another place. She didn’t know him, but she sensed in him a good man. He could have abandoned her hours ago, and who would have been the wiser? How many times now had he risked his life for her? How many times had he taken a beating for her sake? How close would he come to death for her before he ran out of chances?

“How about you?” she said. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

She was glad at least that they had this moment, this brief little break with each other. With some amount of safety from their captors. Halfway up the mountainside, God only knew how far from the mountain and the structures from which they escaped, they huddled together in the semidarkness, a boulder halfway covering the opening of the cave.

She looked outside, noticing she didn’t see their footprints in the dirt leading to the entrance. He had obviously brushed them away. For now, they were safe. For now, she could breathe. To feel. To enjoy the sensations thrumming through her body. She could hide behind him, with him, next to him. Hide from the fear, the terror of the unknown. For now, she could also use his body for more than warmth and comfort. She could use his body in all sorts of ways that no one would have to know about. She already had the feeling that if something were to happen between them, something more than a kiss, it would be unspoken and comfortable. A natural act in such an insane situation.

It could have purpose, too, a helpful activity to create body heat. She could feel his already, as if he’d begun to heat up slightly with her thinking about it. His touch did that, his fingers through her hair. He reached for her chin and gently turned her head toward him. He leaned forward and touched his lips to hers. And then his kiss got her burning for more. She could see into his eyes finally, in the low light, between kisses, her eyes opening and shutting each time her lips slid over his. In his eyes was something she was familiar with, something she herself felt. A narrowed focus, a hunger. Now in the cave there were no other focuses. Nothing else to worry about or fear. They could live for a while in each other’s gaze, and in each other’s kisses, and a tight embrace that only opened up because he was removing her clothes.

Declan gently reached a hand to her throat, then moved downward. It was joined moments later by the other. He unbuttoned her pajama top, dirty, torn in multiple places, but still holding tenuously together. She helped, one hand sliding behind her to feel the growing bulge in his pants. She was helping there.

The cold was no longer an issue. In moments, they had shifted position again, lying down now, kissing, hands straying. She slid her hand to his waist, gently tugged at his shirt, pulling it from the waistband of his pants. Both of them touched carefully, mindful of bruises and sore spots. She didn’t feel sore anymore. She felt invigorated. Desired. Desire for him, for his touch. Desire to touch his warm skin, to give him even a small measure of pleasure. Not as a thank you for what he had done for her. No, that would never be enough. But in this moment, this second of safety, she yearned to join with him. Two people unsure of their future, their very lives. A moment to bask in the most basic of unions, flesh to flesh, heart to heart.

In seconds, both divested of most of their clothing, his pants shoved down his legs to pool at his shins, she reached for him, relishing the warmth of his skin. She closed her eyes and touched, skimming her hand over his firm chest, his ribs, careful not to hurt him. She kept her eyes closed because she didn’t want to see the bruises, the scrapes, to be reminded of what he risked for her.

He snuggled closer, and she invited that closeness. Every time his lips brushed against hers, she wanted more. Desperately. He increased the pressure. Soon, her breasts tingled and her nipples hardened into nubs that ached for his touch. A burning roared to life deep in her belly. She settled one hand on his shoulder and felt the ripple of muscle beneath as he moved. Her breasts pressed against his hot chest, and still she wanted to get closer.

She wasn’t sure if it was because Declan had saved her life or because he was so damned handsome, but she couldn’t hold back her desire. She wanted to feel his hands on her breasts. She wanted to make love with him, even though the thought seemed ludicrous. She needn’t have worried. His tongue traced her lips and then gently delved inside. They played tag with their tongues for several moments, and then he began to suck. The gesture tipped her over the edge. She pressed her hips closer to his, felt his cock big and hard and hot, throbbing against her core.

She heard a low groan and realized it came from her throat. Oh, God. His hand traced up her spine and then covered a shoulder, then dropped lower to cup a breast. She sighed. His hand fit over her breast perfectly, testing its weight, squeezing gently. His fingers tweaked her nipple, sending a shiver of hot fire down her spine. The fire warmed her belly and down to her sex. As if with a mind of their own, her breasts thrust toward him. He ducked his head and took a nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the tip, and then gently suckled.

Her pussy throbbed. Sophia pressed herself closer, stroking her hand down his arm, then to his waist, then to his crotch. His cock was hard, but the skin covering it felt warm and soft to her exploring touch. Thick, engorged veins threaded along the side of that glorious shaft. She thrilled at the knowledge that she could get him so hard in such a short amount of time.

Their breath grew harsh as they pleasured each other. She turned to lie on her back, inviting him to straddle her. He did. He flattened himself on top of her. Her breasts squished up against his chest as they kissed again, hungrily, deeply, and passionately. His hands skimmed her waist, her hips, and then her thighs. Her hands were also busy.

Declan slightly readjusted himself between her legs, and she gasped as his hand reached down to stroke her pussy lips. Her hand tightened around his shaft. One of his fingers dipped into her slit, and her grip on his cock tightened even more as she stroked. Automatically, instinctively, her hips began to rock, slowly at first, in time to the way she stroked him.

He murmured in her ear. “Keep moving . . . you make me feel so good, so horny . . . let’s do it this way, and then later . . . we’ll save the best for later.”

She wanted more of him, even as his finger plunged deep inside. Even as his thumb circled her clit, prompting waves of tension to surge into every muscle of her body. She stroked her thumb over the tip of his head, and he groaned, his mouth sucking on her tongue again in pace with his finger sliding in and out.

Sophia soon grew impatient and rocked her hips in earnest. Her hand tightened around his shaft and stroked harder, faster. They rocked together as the waves of pleasure burgeoned ever upward. She sucked on his tongue, and again he moaned low in his throat. She felt the rumble in his chest beneath her breasts. It thrummed through her as she pressed her body upward, ever closer.

Then she felt it building, burgeoning. She tensed, then exploded in sensations. Her ears rang, and every muscle in her body let go as wave after wave of exquisite pleasure raced through her veins. She felt her core clamping rhythmically around his fingers, as if striving to hold him inside as her body pulsed around him.

She finally relaxed, heart pounding as he hovered over her, watching her. She spread her legs and urged him inside. He tried to refuse, but her hand on his cock guided him closer.

“I don’t have protection, Sophia—”

“I don’t care!” she gasped. She didn’t. All she wanted at this moment was to feel him inside her. The ultimate connection.

Declan stared into her eyes, searching hers as if looking for an answer. “You’re sure?”

She responded by kissing him again. It must have been the right answer as this time, when she angled her hips toward his body, he drove inside. One deep and powerful thrust, and he filled her. Her spirit soared. No matter what happened, she had this moment.

He rocked his hips, thrust deep inside, moving within her and igniting the ecstasy all over again. With every thrust, every touch, Sophia climbed higher again until he shifted his hips, brushing the head of his cock over a place deep inside her. The cave, everything, disappeared as she tightened around him as pleasure rushed over her. She felt him push even deeper into her before he held himself there, the warmth of his come pulsing inside. She held on tight, never wanting to let him go.

Even naked in the open air, she’d forgotten all about the discomforts of the cave and the chilled air and instead focused on the comfort of his arms around her naked body, his mouth now nuzzling her neck.

It was hard to believe that they’d allowed themselves this reward, and hard to believe how perfectly he fit, his warmth between her legs. The fear had transformed into quiet joy. At least for this brief escape.

After they lay together for several minutes, their breathing returning to normal, he moved, pulling his pants up, reaching for his shirt with a wince. She shifted and sat up, pulling up her pajama pants at the same time, then re-buttoning her top with shaking fingers. She tried to laugh.

“So now what?” she said, stroking her fingers through his hair. “We just stay here and keep fucking until they find us?”

“That would be a hell of a way to go, wouldn’t it?”

“Maybe they’ll catch us in the act, and that’ll be the last thing either of us remembers.”

“At least it’ll be a happy memory.”

“But what if we could make it last?” she said.

“Then we’ll have to make us last.”

“How do you mean that?” Sophia said, the idea beginning to swirl in her head that maybe, just maybe there might be something lasting between them. There would already be a tight bond of friendship, but this new, unspoken development . . .

“I mean that we’ll have to survive, and live, to see this thing through.”

She knew precisely what “this” was.

Declan took a breath, drew his hand away from her, and said, “I’m doing a lot of uncharacteristic things here.”

She could almost feel the energy shifting away immediately, heading in the wrong direction. Some of the joy had been sucked out of her, some of the reality returning. She said, “And you think this is characteristic for me?”

“Not at all, which is why I feel so badly for you.”

“Well, thanks,” she said in a huff.

“I said that wrong,” he said, rubbing her arm. “The other thing, too. Although I guess it is uncharacteristic of me to do this, I just need to say that I’ve got no regrets.”

That was all she wanted to hear. Their lives had become so entwined, and so fucked up, that there could be no time for regrets. Only moving forward. Moving out of this cave system, then out of the country. Then out of public life for a long while until she could at least get her life squared away—with or without Declan.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“What do you mean? I’m okay with you, but not necessarily here. Are you trying to say that you’re about to run off?”

“I might have to,” Declan said.

She immediately felt the cold come back, the rough ground, the terrible situation. Real life returning in a terrifying rush. She tried not to think about her next twenty-four hours. Declan could do that, at least for now. Wasn’t that what his job was all about?

“We need supplies,” he said.

“How?”

“I’ll have to sneak back over to the Afghani camp. It’s the only way. But you stay here and stay safe. Keep an eye out.”

She could already feel her jaw tensing up. “Declan . . .”

“I’m coming right back,” he said. “With supplies.”

“I’m scared you won’t.”

“If I don’t,” he said with a smile, “then you can go ahead and come over and look for me. Deal?”

“Deal if you come back,” she said, “and with one of those AKs.”

“That’s exactly it. Water, supplies, and some way to get back at them. If I’m lucky, I’ll find some food or some way to contact the team.”

“Contact,” she said, “we need contact over food. I’d rather starve waiting for them than not get the chance at all.”

“We’ll get the chance. A lot of chances. Just hold tight.”

“But what do I do? While you’re gone, what should I do?”

“Think back,” he said, “try to remember everything that happened at that dinner.”

The dinner felt like a whole lifetime ago. The conversations even longer. Even she herself had been a different person.

He had been watching her the whole time, finally saying, “Or maybe just stay here and stay quiet while I rustle up some supplies.”

Her mind filled with images of the party, of Sajad’s advances, and then of blurry confusion and hands pulling her into the van. Shivers ran through her. “I don’t want to think back ever again.”