Joe grabbed the box from the bedside table and shoved it in his jacket pocket. He wasn't going to get any answers sitting alone in his bedroom. All the answers he wanted were waiting with Perrie.

He strode through the lodge and out the front door, his thoughts focused on only one thing. He'd tell Perrie how he felt and then he'd tell her about Milt's call… and then he'd wait for her reaction. He wouldn't have to wait long. Perrie wasn't one to keep her feelings to herself.

The distance between the lodge and her cabin was covered in record time. When he opened the front door, he expected her to be waiting for him where he'd left her, standing near the door. But then he realized how long he'd been gone.

Her jacket was tossed on the floor, followed by her mittens and hat. His gaze traced the path of mukluks, sweater and jeans to the bed. Slowly, he crossed the room to find Perrie, dressed in her T-shirt, curled up beneath the covers of the bed, sound asleep.

Joe knelt down beside the bed and studied her face. Her cheeks were still pink from the cold and her hair tumbled around her face. Long lashes, dark against her skin, fluttered faintly, as if she were struggling to escape the bonds of sleep. He leaned over and kissed her. His gaze stopped on her arm and he fought back a flood of anger at the person who had come so close to taking her life. He ran his fingers along the ragged red mark.

She opened her eyes and smiled at him sleepily. "I'm sorry. You were gone so long. And I was so tired."

"I should go and let you sleep. You've had a busy day."

She reached out and placed her palm on his cheek. "I want you to stay." She wriggled over on the bed and patted her hand beside her, a silent invitation to join her.

Joe pulled off his jacket and tossed it on the floor beside her clothes, then kicked off his boots. The bed gave beneath him as he crawled in beside her. He bent over her, his head braced on his elbow, and slowly traced the shape of her mouth with his thumb. A tiny smile touched her lips and then she kissed his fingers.

Desire flooded his senses, overwhelming in its intensity, and he pulled her beneath him, settling his hips against hers, his hands braced on either side of her head. She was warm and vulnerable, and with every kiss, he could feel her need growing to match his.

Every touch, every sigh were perfection, and he realized that loving her had become more than just words. He loved her with his mouth and his hands, and everywhere he touched, she came alive beneath him. He wanted to know every intimate inch of her body, he wanted to be able to understand her sighs and moans, the fleeting expressions that crossed her face.

The quilt tangled around them, and he muttered impatiently, unable to free her or himself. Finally, he pulled it from between them and she smiled. "I'm not cold anymore," she murmured, her eyes half-closed. "Are you?"

They lay side by side, foreheads pressed together. "Sweetheart, I'm warm. Very warm."

She toyed with the buttons of his flannel shirt. "Then help me take this off."

He growled and sat up, tearing off his shirt and the thermal underwear beneath. The touch of her hand sent a shiver racing through him. He watched as she smoothed her palm over his bare chest, her fingers like silk, teasing at the line of hair that ran from his collarbone to the button of his jeans. When her touch wandered below his waist, his jaw tensed and he pinned her hand behind her.

She was all soft flesh and gentle curves, and his palm pushed beneath her T-shirt. Her shoulders, her breasts, her belly, her hips. Before the night was through, he would memorize every inch of her. And if she ever left him, he would be able to close his eyes and remember each detail. But he wouldn't let her leave. He would make love to her and, in their passion, they would form an unbreakable bond.

Somehow, she managed to wriggle out of her T-shirt, and Joe's breath froze in his throat when he saw that she wore nothing beneath. He closed his eyes and nuzzled her neck, then slowly worked his way down, biting, nibbling, until his mouth closed over a taut nipple.

She murmured his name and twisted beneath him, furrowing her fingers through his hair. He felt such absolute power, yet at the same time such startling vulnerability. He could make her moan with pleasure and she could break his heart.

He kneaded her flat belly, moving lower and lower until his fingers found the silky scrap of her panties. Her bream was quick and shallow, every soft sound a frantic plea for more. He slipped his hand beneath the lace and touched her, and she cried out again and arched her back.

"You feel so good," he whispered. "So good."

"So good," she repeated. Perrie drew a ragged breath. "Oh, what are you doing to me?"

"Do you want me to stop, sweetheart?"

"No, no, don't stop. Touch me there. Just like that. Touch me there."

She pulsed with need, growing wetter beneath his fingers with every caress. He wanted to carry her to the edge and then catch her as she fell into sweet oblivion. He felt her tense and he knew she was near.

"Let go, Perrie," he murmured. "Let go. Let me love you."

Her breath suddenly stopped and he watched her face as a glorious expression of pleasure suffused her beauty. And then she shuddered and groaned and twisted beneath his hand. Wave after wave of ecstasy rocked her body and he held her close, whispering her name.

When she finally drifted back to reality, she released a weak breath and closed her eyes. He listened as her breathing slowed and her expression relaxed. He stared down at her lovely face, the color high, a sheen of perspiration dotting her forehead.

For a long time, he studied her, committing each feature to memory, burning an image of her into his brain. He closed his eyes and he could still see her, the face of an angel and the body of a goddess.

When he looked at her again, he saw that she was asleep. Joe touched his lips to her forehead, then pulled her body into his, nestling her backside against the nagging ache of his arousal. Wrapping his arms around her, he smiled. He held heaven in his arms and he wasn't going to let her go.

Tomorrow there would be time to say all that needed to be said, to tell her his feelings. To tell her about the phone call from Milt. But for now, none of that mattered. They'd finally found a place where pride gave way to passion, a place they might enjoy for a very long time to come.

Chapter Nine

She woke up in his arms, and for the first time in her life, Perrie felt utter contentment. The room had gone cold, the fire in the stove having burned to ash before sunrise. She snuggled beneath the quilts and listened to his breathing, deep and even and warm against the back of her neck. Seattle seemed so very far away… miles and miles and nearly a lifetime.

Here, with him, she felt safe and secure. Joe cared about her, he believed in her. And suddenly, she didn't have to work so hard to believe in herself. The pressure that weighed on her day-to-day life had disappeared. There were no thoughts of stories and deadlines and awards. Instead, her mind spun with images of exquisite tenderness and unfettered passion.

They hadn't made love last night, but they'd shared an incredibly intimate experience. She had given herself to him, stripped of all her inhibitions, vulnerable to his touch. And rather than feeling regret or embarrassment, Perrie felt sheer exhilaration. The world spun faster today, the sun shone brighter. Their lives together began when he took her to the edge and then caught her as she fell. And in his arms, she would be happier than she ever dared dream.

Like a cream-fed cat, she smiled and stretched. But his leg was thrown across her hips, the denim rough against her skin, and she couldn't move more than a few inches either way.

Perrie closed her eyes. For now, sleep was her only option, for she didn't want to wake him… not yet. She looked down at his arms, wrapped around her shoulders, strong and capable, and those hands that had worked such magic on her body. She wove her fingers through his and brought his hand to her mouth, kissing it softly. Who was this man who stirred such a deep desire in her? She barely knew him, yet she felt as if she'd known him her entire life.

Had destiny brought them together? She'd never believed in fate or karma, preferring logic and reason over all explanations. But something more powerful was at work here. If not for Tony Riordan and a stray bullet, she might have lived her entire life never knowing Joe Brennan. She might never have set foot in Alaska. And she might never have come to love a man the way she loved Joe.

The thought that they might never have met was unfathomable, and she drew a deep breath and banished it from her mind. She wasn't sure what the day would bring, but she had to believe that Joe felt the same way about her. And if he did, then her life would never be the same again.

A soft moan rumbled in her ear and Joe shifted and stretched behind her. She held her bream, but she could tell that he was awake, and she slowly turned around in his arms. He gazed down at her with half-hooded eyes and gave her a sleepy grin.

"You're still here," he murmured.

Perrie reached up and brushed a lock of hail from his forehead. "I could say the same of you."

He nuzzled her neck. "I can't think of any place I'd rather be. How about you?"

"I could think of lots of places, but I'd want you there with me."

"Where?" Joe asked.

"A big hotel with a big bed. And room service to cook us breakfast Palm trees and sunshine and a beach towel for two."

He frowned. "Do you really hate the cold that much?"