“Where?”
“Jolie…”
She looked at him again. “It’s not like I’m going to try to escape. If we’re really in the middle of nowhere, I wouldn’t know how to get to civilization. Can’t you tell me?”
He gave her a solemn look. “End of east hallway—the one past the generator room.”
She replayed the base in her mind, walking it room by room the way she had when they left and she had too much nervous energy to contain. “I haven’t gone all the way down that hall.”
“You can’t get out without one of us anyway.”
“And the daylight. Where does it come from? I haven’t found any windows.”
His hand paused on her shoulder, then his touch resumed in a swirling pattern. “A mine shaft runs adjacent to the structure, and the angle’s right to pull in natural light most of the day.”
She blinked in genuine surprise. “So it’s like Stonehenge—light moving through the stones at certain times of day and seasons.”
“A bit like that.”
She grinned. “Aliens.”
“There’s a lot more to this place than meets the eye. I can’t say much more.”
It was enough for now. She turned into his arms, facing him, their noses nearly touching. His eyes burned with an expression she longed to decode but had no idea where to begin. He brushed a strand of hair back from her face. The tenderness of the gesture found a soft spot inside her heart that she’d never thought to shield.
Now it was too late.
She leaned in and kissed him slow. He kissed her back the same way.
And there it was—the thing she’d been trying not to feel. It moved through her chest like the tide going out, quiet and enormous and impossible to stop.
She was leaving. And she would never see him again.
She curled her fingers against his jaw, memorizing the faint scratch of stubble and the warmth of him.
She wouldn’t have Archer, but she’d carry away the memories of the most wonderful times she’d ever claimed for herself. And that was more than most people got.
But lying in his arms with the weight of his body around her, the memories didn’t feel like enough.
That scared her the most.
ELEVEN
Archer woke hard, confusion blurring the edges of sleep and reality. He reached across the bed before his eyes were even open and found the cool sheets.
He’d slept later than usual, missed his predawn meditation. But a quick inspection of his inner mind found it…calm.
His body had found its own version of peace in the memory of Jolie’s silky skin and her legs tangled with his throughout the night.
He pushed upright and scanned the room for her. The only garment she was wearing when she knocked on his door—the oversized tee—lay on the floor where he’d let it drop.
But his shirt and sweats were gone.
He climbed out of bed and followed the muffled noises coming from the other end of the base—and the smell of fresh coffee.
He stopped in the kitchen door to drink in the sight, and a slow grin tugged at his lips.
Jolie stood at the stove with her back to him, barefoot, wearing his black T-shirt. It fell to mid-thigh on her and his sweats were rolled twice at the waist to keep them on. Her hair was loose and mussed from their night together, and damn if the sight of her didn’t have his cock stiffening.
