Captive of Fate by Lindsay McKenna Page B

hotly. “I’m leaving,” she muttered hastily, climbing out of the tent.
    The chill of the early morning made her shiver. She wrapped her arms about her body, standing over the blackened area that had served as a fire the night before. Matt came out minutes later, fully dressed. He seemed buoyant this morning, and Alanna found herself responding to him despite the turmoil of her feelings.
    Matt looked around, pursing his lips. “If I’m not imagining things, it looks like this fog is beginning to thin.” He glanced over at her, beginning to build another fire. “Keep your fingers crossed that when the sun rises it will burn this stuff off.”
    She sat on one of the logs that Matt had found for her and watched him. “And if it does?”
    “That means I can get those choppers up, supplies moving, and most importantly, the injured down off this mountain.”
    “Another sixteen-hour day for you?”
    “Twenty-four to forty-eight will be more like it if the weather gods smile on us.”
    Alanna smiled wistfully, cradling her chin in her palms. Shortly, the fire was popping and crackling, and she edged closer, beginning to warm up. Matt came over, placing his large, bulky jacket across her shoulders.
    “This ought to help. Now, what do you feel like for breakfast?”
    She thought about it for a moment, dizzied by his closeness. How easy it would have been to make a half-turn and walk back into his arms. As easy as lying beside him last night in the tent. Alanna pushed those pleasant thoughts aside. “I’m really not hungry, Matt….”
    He frowned. “You’re going to eat anyway. We’ve got a hard day in front of us if this fog lifts.”
    How could she eat? She was thinking of him, of her body’s aching need for him and his electrifying touch. It was impossible to think when he was so near!
    “I can’t offer you eggs Benedict, but how about some scrambled eggs instead?”
    “Y-yes, that would be fine.”
    “Coffee?”
    Her lips parted. “Are you serious?”
    Matt grinned, a twinkle in his gray eyes. “Have I ever lied to you yet?”
    “That’s one of your saving graces,” she muttered. “Honesty at every turn.”
    He couldn’t resist a retort. “Something that our great senators and representatives know little of up on the Hill.”
    “I suppose you include me in that generalization?” she asked, stung.
    Matt rummaged through his pack, finding the necessary ingredients for their breakfast. “You couldn’t lie if you tried,” he returned equitably. “Your eyes give you away, you know.”
    Alanna felt heat creeping back into her face. My God, was he reading what she felt toward him? Nervously, she buried her hands in the huge pockets of the jacket, pretending not to hear his comment.
    Over breakfast, Matt continued his pleasant banter. Alanna marveled at his ability to make small talk under such circumstances: they were out in the middle of a Costa Rican jungle, where disease was rampant and people’s homes and very lives had been destroyed.
    “So tell me, what is the apartment you live in like?” he asked, sipping the steaming coffee.
    Alanna watched him warily. “Why would you want to know?”
    Shrugging, he said, “Curiosity. To see if what I’ve imagined it’s like is close to reality.”
    “You make a point of comparing furniture labels to the person?”
    “Labels don’t mean a thing to me. Usually you can visualize what people are like by the way they decorate their homes or apartments.”
    She moved uncomfortably on the log, not wanting him to ferret out any more information about her. “Why don’t you tell me about your apartment instead,” she challenged.
    “Fair enough,” he agreed, the smile reaching his eyes. “Actually, I don’t rent an apartment. I live in McLean, Virginia, and own a house in a fairly wooded area.”
    “A home?” she echoed. “I didn’t know Marines made enough money to buy houses over there in that posh section.”
    “I saved a lot of my pay by being