Chapter 13 Miles To Go "Do not awaken love, til it desires…"

Mara stretched lazily, turning her head to gaze at her new husband. As her eyes adjusted to the light, she studied his face, remembering all that had transpired before they'd fallen asleep. Her heart raced as she remembered the power of his kiss and the way he had shown her his love, consummating their marriage. Now his eyes were closed, rimmed by dark lashes that rested upon his high cheekbones. Her attention shifted to his finely sculpted lips, which were slightly parted. She listened to the soft sound of his breathing, her attention drawn down his throat to his chest. There, a fine sprinkling of dark hair covered his skin, and she remembered its softness beneath her touch. The sheet covered his lower chest and the rest of his body, for the most part hidden by the darkness of night they'd shared as lovers. She marveled that although she'd only known him a short time, she felt closer to him than anyone.

Slhifting to her side, she slowly slid a foot toward him, halting when he stirred, stretching his head deeper into the pillow as he breathed a contented sigh. Sliding his arm beneath the pillow, he settled again while she watched and waited, half hoping he would awaken. But his breathing slowed and evened out as he fell deeper into sleep.

Half aware of the muffled sounds of the street below, she waited, wanting to experience the thrill of his desire for her again. She remembered how his whispered breath at her ear made her shiver with pleasure, and how the hungry possession of his kiss thrilled her. Unable to help herself, she reached out and gently traced her fingertips lightly along his forearm, testing herself and trying to restrain her impatience for him to awaken.

He murmured softly in his sleep, stretching his shoulders back as she snatched back her hand and clutched the sheet to her breasts with it. His brow furrowed and his breathing quickened, making her wonder if he was dreaming again. He tensed, then slowly shifted his head toward her. She watched as he stilled, then began to open his eyes. After a moment, his vision cleared and he realized she was staring at him.

"What is it?" he asked, his voice husky as he lifted a hand toward hers.

She felt the warm strength of his hand and laced her fingers through his. "Were you having a bad dream?" she asked softly.

A shadow of concern darkened his expression. "Did I wake you?"

"No," she sighed, clutching his hand in hers. "I think the rain woke me up..."

He studied her a moment, his lips lifting halfway toward a smile as if he could read her mind. Tugging her hand, he gazed into her eyes. "Come here..."

She moved toward him, settling beneath the arm he lifted in welcome. With a contented sigh, she settled along his side, sliding her palm over his bare chest. They settled in a half embrace as he sighed in relief. When she tilted her head up their lips met in a gentle, lingering kiss. Then he settled his head back into his pillow, studying her expression.

"You look pleased with yourself," he said thickly, his gaze dipping to the place where she clutched the sheet to herself, then back up.

"I am," she admitted, reaching up to smooth her fingertips over the soft stubble along his cheek. "I'm sorry if I woke you."

He studied her expression a moment. "No you're not," he stated, his lips lifting toward a smile.

"What?" she protested before he suddenly shifted an arm beneath her bare back, pulling her against him.

"Yes, I am!" she croaked, distracted by his sudden move and the thrill of being in his arms again. "I didn't want you to suffer through another nightmare."

His eyes narrowed. "So you woke me up because of that? No other reason?"

"Of course not," she huffed, "what kind of wife do you think I am?"

"A hungry one," he smiled, quickly dispensing with the sheet separating them. "Admit it."

She gasped at the heady contact of their bodies, skin to skin. She looked longingly at his lips before focusing her attention upon the warm desire in his eyes.

"Hungry?" she answered distractedly. "Now that you mention it, I could use some breakfast—"

His lips cut her off, stealing her breath with a slow, tantalizing kiss. She moaned softly, feeling him pull her over his chest as she stretched over him. He slid his hand into her hair, tipping her head to deepen the kiss. He tasted hot and more intoxicating than any liquor, and she pressed against the hard planes of his body, kissing him back. His arm slid down her back, drawing her closer, then she lifted herself just enough to welcome him back inside her. She gasped at the pleasure she felt when he filled her completely, then heard his soft groan of satisfaction.

The connection they shared was unlike anything she'd ever experienced, and she gave herself to him without reservation. They made love at a gentler pace, excruciatingly slow but completely satisfying. She caressed his back as he lay in her arms, listening to the sound of the rain pelting against the windows.

He lifted his head, his eyes traveling over her features before he kissed the tip of her nose. "So you were hungry..."

"Alright," she breathed, running her fingertips over his bare shoulder. "I admit it, I missed you—was I that obvious?"

He kissed her cheek close to her ear, making her shiver with pleasure. "Not unless you have a trained eye," he replied.

"And you do, this early on in our relationship," she replied, shoving her hand into his hair and smoothing it around the back of his head.

"I do," he sighed, kissing the tender spot beneath her ear, his voice vibrating along her nerves.

She felt goosebumps along her shoulder. "That tickles," she protested, stretching her head away.

"Really?" he marveled, tightening his arm around her. "How much?"

"I'm ticklish!" she protested, gripping his head between both hand. "Please don't torture me."

"Ok I'll stop," he breathed, resting his head back on the pillow. "For now."

"Thank you—aren't you ticklish?"

"Not at all," he drawled, reaching up to run a hand over his chin.

"Really?" she wondered, studying his contented expression. "Most people are ticklish."

"Not me," he said, "sorry to disappoint you."

She glanced at him with an impish look. "I am disappointed...you're no fun."

"Oh, I'm lots of fun," he yawned unconvincingly as he moved to his back, pulling the covers over them both. "You'll see..."

"I'll hold you to it," she promised, settling her back against his chest as his arms came around her. "Go back to sleep, you're still tired."

"So are you..."

"I am," she yawned, stretching her foot before he captured it between his. "…we should probably be getting packed up."

"We've got all day…" he sighed. "I set the alarm for 2."

She curled her hand around his arm, settling into the warmth and comfort of the bed. "This is decadent..."

"I know," he murmured, already half asleep.

Cascades Volcanic Observatory, Vancouver

"Hey, it's me," Mark Gordon spoke quietly into his phone, eyes scanning his surroundings. "Look, something's changed—someone's tracking the field accounts…"

He listened to the disbelief in his co-worker's voice. "Of course I'm sure—I checked everything twice before calling you. There is definitely tracking activity on the remaining two accounts, despite the security upgrades...we have to be very careful."

He looked up into the rear view mirror, making sure no one had followed him. Then he turned the ignition key and started the car. "Yeah, I sent off an encrypted alert for our friend…now he'll know he's being watched once he logs back in…Who knows? Yeah…let's hope he's okay and they haven't found him…"

As the door lock clicked, Mara glanced toward the door. Daniel stepped into the room, meeting her gaze with a curt nod, his expression tense. He quietly closed and locked it behind him as she glanced at the white paper bag in his hand.

"What's wrong?" she asked, stuffing the final pile of clothes into her pack. He ducked inside the bathroom and when he didn't answer, she followed. He was emptying the contents of the bag onto the sink counter—two boxes of hair coloring kits, a pair of scissors, two disposable shavers, and eye makeup.

"The account's been hacked," he said quietly, throwing her a meaningful look. "I got an alert message from the admin at the observatory, warning me that there's been a security breach. We don't have much time before we have to get to the station, but we'll need a disguise, just in case."

"After all this time?" she worried, watching him open the men's hair coloring kit labeled gingerbread brown

"It's strange," he agreed, "but we can't afford to take any chances."

She watched in disbelief as he shook the bottle, then broke off the cap. "You think it was Warden Holscombe, don't you?"

He pulled off his sweater and begin unbuttoning his shirt. "My guess is he finally tracked me through the University," he answered, pulling off his shirt. "He doesn't seem the kind to give up easily."

"You're right about that," she sighed, watching him drape his tee shirt over the shirt before she picked up the other kit. When she looked up, their eyes met.

He flashed a smile and leaned close to kiss her cheek. "Time for a new look, sweetheart."

She read the label and eyed him meaningfully. "Black midnight—you have some kind of fantasy of me being punk?"

He pulled her into his arms, kissing her soundly on the lips. "I have all kinds of fantasies about you," he admitted in a husky voice.

She lifted a hand to his cheek, smiling sweetly. "Really? I might have some of my own about you."

"Thought you might," he smiled, pulling on the plastic gloves. "You're next, ok?"

She picked up the black and blue eyeliner/mascara pack. "This should be interesting…I'll have to put together an appropriate outfit, of course."

"I can't wait to see," he stated, eyeing her in the mirror.

She held up the shaver. "And what's this for?"

He reached up, tipping the bottle over and squirting the dark color along the part in his hair. "It'll grow back..."

"No! Don't shave off your beard," she warned.

"I have to, so it'll match," he insisted, beginning to massage the color in.

"No, it's dark brown...besides, lots of men have beards that aren't the same color as their hair."

He set the empty bottle down and massaged the color into his hair. "Maybe you have a point," he said distractedly. "We'll see, when this dries."

"Please don't shave it off—I like your beard."

"So do I," he drawled, glancing toward her. "Do you mind timing this?"

"How long?" she sighed, trying not to laugh when he pulled the plastic shower cap over his head.

"30 minutes—you'd better start yours now."

"Alright, but you have to finish packing, and you don't want to drip anything on the rug."

"I'll be fast," he sighed, staring in the mirror. "Thankfully it's only temporary."

She finished shaking the bottle and opened it, sniffing at the odor. "It's a good thing."

Daniel pulled his gaze from the dark landscape beyond the window to study his wife's expression. She was curled up against his side, engrossed in her reading.

"Hey," he spoke quietly, gently nudging her arm. She looked up, focusing on his face, then offered him a hint of a smile.

"You getting restless?" she asked quietly, leaning into his side.

Gazing at her mouth, he shifted his attention back to her eyes. "Yeah," he admitted, stretching out his legs. "I need to get up and walk around."

She nodded, closing the magazine and stuffing it into her bag. "Me too, and we should get something before the dining car closes."

He stretched stiffly as he arose, bending to avoid hitting this head on the compartment above their seats. Moving into the aisle, he glanced around at the other passengers, all of whom appeared to be reading or dozing. They'd been traveling for the last day and a half with only one stop, during which they'd walked around the commuter lot a dozen times to stretch their legs. There had been no sleeping berths available so they'd tried to manage by sleeping in their seats.

"Lead the way," he sighed, moving behind her and following her up the aisle. They were several cars behind the dining car, and it was a challenge to weave through the crowded cars on the speeding train, hauling their packs with them.

When they slid into the last two seats, they were immediately handed menus and informed that they had better choose quickly.

"I already know what I want," Mara sighed, ordering a grilled cheese sandwich and tea.

He forced a tired smile and ordered eggs. They sat back, waiting, but after their teas were served, they began to revive.

"You look good," he ventured just above a whisper, leaning toward her as he cradled his mug between his hands. His eyes lifted to her jet black hair, then traced the blue eyeliner and thick black mascara framing her cool green eyes—it was quite a startling combination.

She chuckled, blowing on her tea before lifting the cup to her lips. "I look a fright," she stated, eyeing his reddish brown hair with what looked like an appreciative glance.

"I disagree," he drawled, drinking the hot tea and feeling it trace a hot path down his throat. He gazed meaningfully into her eyes, which seemed to telegraph his interest. She sobered and put down her mug.

"Stop," she hissed, glancing around the dining car. "Someone might notice..."

"Can't help it," he said quietly, holding her gaze. To his delight, she seemed to blush before glancing down at her jacket as she pulled it closer.

They were served their simple dinner, which they devoured hungrily, then lingered over a refill of tea. By the time the waiter announced closing, they could barely hide their feelings. Mara pulled up her hood and preceded him out of the car, swaying as she led the way back toward their car. The train seemed to speed up, making it more difficult to steady themselves.

Bracing themselves, they came to the next door and Daniel shoved it aside while she crossed into the next car. He made a decision after examining the sleeping passengers, touching her shoulder. She paused, leaning against the wall as she looked up at him.

"Follow me," he ordered quietly, nodding toward the restroom. Then he reached out, opened the door and entered, stowing his pack in the corner.

"What?" she gasped as he pulled her in and shifted her pack next to his. Then he locked the door behind them and turned to face her.

She narrowed her gaze, looking into his eyes in the dim light. Before she could protest, he cupped her cheek and kissed her, pushing her against the wall. She reached up, grabbing his arms to steady herself, then responded to his kiss. He felt her arms slide around his neck and closed his eyes in thanksgiving. They shared a deep kiss that turned fevered, and then they were pulling at the fabric separating them as they gave in to their hunger for each other. He relished her response, wondering how he'd made it the last day and a half without tasting her kiss or touching her skin. Now, he couldn't help lifting and carrying her over to the sink, where he deposited her as he pressed his body against her. She lifted his shirt and he gasped at the feeling of her hand sliding over his low back, dipping inside his waistband. He cupped her breast, tasting the desire in her kiss and choking back a shout when she opened her shirt. Dipping his head, he tasted her skin as her hands shifted to his belt. Then he was inside her, desperate for her warmth and her passion. She wrapped her legs around him and cried out when he joined them together. The train swayed dangerously, screeching around a corner as they satisfied their hunger for each other, holding on to each other.

When it was finished, Daniel rested his head upon her shoulder as she stroked his back, then lifted his head for another drugging kiss.

"I love you," he panted as she kissed him back.

"I love you too," she choked, then laughed. "This is so crazy..."

"Are you alright?" he wondered, chastising himself for not thinking about where they were and the hard sink beneath her. "I'm sorry—"

"Don't you dare apologize," she panted, laughing as she shifted her clothing back into place. He did the same, finally pulling her into his arms. They held each other for some time, then she patted his chest.

"Well, I think this old married couple should get back to their seats," she stated primly.

"Really?" he sighed, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear and kissing her cheek. "Old, huh?"

"After those gymnastics, I definitely am feeling my age," she sighed, holding his concerned look. "But it was totally worth it."

"You're sure you're ok?" he worried. "I wasn't even thinking..."

"I'm fine," she reassured him. "I was waiting for that, actually."

"You were?" he wondered, having seen no sign of her interest but attributing it to their sparse accommodations. At least not until dinner tonight.

"That was very exciting," she said softly, a tiny smile lighting her expression. "But next time, no sink?"

He studied her expression and laughed softly. "Agreed—no sink."

106