i 8383b91bded90ce1 by Unknown Read Free Book Online Page B

surprising him again.
    "Good God, Josh. It's fifty below. I can barely feel my toes. How in the world can you feel your...uh...well... you know."
    Yeah, he sure did know, and damned inconvenient timing it was. Shouldn't his body be focused on survival? Instead, it was screaming for him to procreate before he died.
    Back to her question and off thoughts of procreating. "I trusted you could start a fire in the cave, so I figured it was best to conserve the lighter fuel for an emergency."
    Her arm sagged to her side. The second snowball splatted to the ground, icy missile and anger diffused.
    "Thank you."
    "For what?"
    "For trusting me to pull my own weight."
    Her sincerity knocked him off balance as much as her unexpected anger. He couldn't afford to have his concentration shaken, especially not now. Time to regain distance. "No problem. And, hey, that's a mighty fine butt you were working off anyhow."
    Her laugh echoed again, hoarser this time. "Good thing you're my husband or I could write you up on sexual harassment charges for a statement like that, Colonel."
    Except he was only her husband for a short time longer, which made her joke fall flatter than the abandoned snowball.
    A holiday miracle sometime soon sure would be nice. But he'd given up counting on miraculous rescues when he was fifteen years old watching people bleed out all around him.
    These days, he knew if there was any saving to be done, he could only count on himself.
    She was in trouble.
    Alicia battled to stay awake. Walk. One foot in front of the other. She would hold her own. She absolutely would not slow Josh down, but she felt pretty much like an ice sculpture from an Alaskan snow festival they'd once discussed attending.
    They'd stopped twice already to build a quick fire and drink. Thank heaven for his Bic lighter, faster than her flint, but probably running low on butane.
    Pretty much like her energy supply.
    He'd offered to drag her along, dogsled style. She'd told him to eat his shorts. She wasn't quitting. Surely they would stumble on something soon. Meanwhile, think happy thoughts.
    Flying always made her happy, in control of her craft and her fate. Kicking ass and taking names. Saving lives and making a difference while following a calling to serve that hummed through her veins in a legacy passed down from generations of Renshaw warriors. The drive to serve called to her aviator sister and brother as well.
    Her fingers twitched convulsively as if around the stick in her F-15E Strike Eagle. Exhaustion lured her mind back to that life-changing mission, the day she'd earned her Silver Star.
    Asleep on her feet, she dreamed of the first time she'd flown with Josh...
    Sweat flowed freely in the F-15E. The two-seater cockpit was overheated from stress, raising damp spots on her flight gloves. Alicia kept her hold loose, light, her thumb poised over the control buttons.
    She would stay calm—even though more perspiration plastered her hair to her head under her helmet as clouds whipped past her windscreen.
    She drew measured hits off her oxygen mask, microphone embedded to pick up her every word, even their breaths. Her WSO's exhalations echoed through the headset Darth Vader-style in an alternating rhythm with her own.
    They'd been on their way to attack an ammunition depot when the call for emergency close air support came mid-flight. Enemy fire had downed a CH-47 Chinook helicopter full of Army Rangers. They needed close air support ASAP until a rescue force arrived.
    Her first real combat engagement.
    She'd been deployed for Afghanistan and Iraq, but mostly Southern Watch patrolling missions. Never had she waded into the hairy action or needed evasive maneuvers on those sorties.
    Which explained why they'd paired her—a young captain—with a combat-seasoned weapons system officer for her early missions in Cantou.
    Major Joshua Rosen sat strapped in the WSO's seat behind her—the fella who'd hit on her in the O'
    Club bar. Nothing inappropriate,