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So, she put on the velour jumpsuit, zipped it up, wadded the prison clothes into a ball, and shoved them into the garbage.
Then she came out of the bathroom, her hair wet, wearing wool socks, the main room warm with the heat of the coal furnace. The house was small but cozy, with bare rugs on the floor, worn sofas, and a faux trellis of flowers along the wall. Reminded her a little of one of her childhood homes, probably a boyfriend her mother moved in with.
The smell of roasting meat, maybe soup, filtered from the kitchen. Outside, the wind howled, banging against the windows.
Oh, it would get so cold tonight on the ship. That thought took her, held her captive.
Ned got up from the sofa. “Babe, you feeling a little better now?”
Her gaze went to him and, oh, Ned had never looked so handsome. Dark hair, those blue eyes, and he’d filled out over the years, turned from a boy to a man with wide shoulders, a thick chest, powerful body.
Now he pulled her against himself, holding on, his hands cupping her shoulders, the move so secure she just sank into his warmth.
What she wanted was to be alone with him. To tell him she was sorry for being so…well, for being so easily offended. And independent. And for giving him back his ring—oh!
“Ned, do you still have the ring?” She lifted her head, looked up at him.
He blinked at her. “Yeah. It’s in my gear, back at Air One in Alaska. Of course I have it.”
Her eyes filled.
“So maybe we’ll give you guys some space,” Fraser said and got up from an armchair. Pavel followed him into the kitchen.
Ned held her face in his hands. Met her eyes. “I am so sorry—”
“Stop.”
His eyes widened.
“This is not on you.” She drew in a breath. “I was so stupid. So…stupid.”
“Shae.”
“No.” She broke away from him, walking over to the massive furnace. Held her hands over it. “I should have known that Dana was bad. I just didn’t want to believe it. I am so…stupid.”
She closed her eyes, and Ned’s arms went around her, his chest to her back. He pressed a kiss to her neck. “No, you’re not. You can’t live your life constantly suspicious of others.”
She turned in his arms, put hers up around his neck. “It’s more than that. I…I was almost proud of myself that I didn’t need you. That I didn’t pressure you to marry me. That we were this team of independent people…but the truth is, I’ve always been a little afraid that if I married you, then…well, then when something happened, my life would be in shambles.”
“Nothing it going to—”
She put her hand over his mouth. “My life is already in shambles without you.”
His gaze found hers, fixed on it, so much in his eyes she didn’t know how to read it all.
He kissed her. Simply lowered his mouth to hers and took her in. Hungry, as if he’d been holding back, and he wasn’t particularly gentle either—not with so much urgency and desperation in his touch. He picked her up, and she put her legs around his waist, and he stood there, his legs braced, simply devouring her.
And she devoured him back, her arms tight around his neck, holding on with everything inside her, tasting him, smelling the night and the sea on him, the power and danger that was her man.
The man who’d followed her to Siberia to save her.
She lifted her head and met his eyes, and his were wet. “You really scared me,” he whispered.
Oh, Ned. “I knew you’d find me.” Or at least, she’d hoped it with everything inside her.
“Always,” he said, his voice a little broken.
Then he kissed her again, this time slower, taking his time, the reality sinking in.
