He looked over at her, and his charcoal-ringed gray eyes seemed to weigh her determination. "Okay, hold your water. I'll find you a bathroom."

Service stations were few and far between along this stretch of farm country, however, and Lily was practically dancing in her seat by the time Zach roared off the exit and rolled to a stop in front of a gas pump. She left her door hanging open in her rush to the restroom.

When she came out several minutes later, Zach was just reseating the nozzle in its holder. Pulling his wallet from his back pocket, he headed for the small minimart. "You'd better come in and pick out what you want to eat, because I'm not stopping again."

Most of the store's offerings ran toward grease, salt, and sugar, but Lily selected a bottle of water, two apples, an orange, and a small package of presliced cheese. She added a candy bar at the counter. Then she fished through her purse for her wallet, but by the time she'd dug to the bottom and located it, Zach had already paid for everything.

"C'mon," he said and strode back to the Jeep.

She sighed as she picked her way over the cracked concrete parking lot in her needle-heeled shoes. This was going to be a long trip.

Miguel hurried to pay for his petrol, watching through the market window as the sergeant major drove out of the lot. Where the hell was he headed?

This wasn't what he'd anticipated. He'd expectedTaylorto take his woman out for a meal in the small beach town where he lived. Or maybe up toLos Angeles. He certainly hadn't expected him to just keep driving and driving and driving. Miguel had nearly run out of petrol before Taylor had finally pulled in here—and then he'd counted himself lucky that this was America, where gas pumps lined two sides of the small market. In Bisinlejo they had one pump—and the truck to fill that only came once every couple of months or so. Here he was able to fill his car at the same time as the commander and still avoid being seen.

Shoving his change in his pocket, he headed for his car. He didn't want to letTaylorget too far ahead. If the marine took an exit before Miguel could catch up, this would be a wasted trip, and he'd have to wait for another day to start all over again. He'd just as soon not have to do that. Too bad he hadn't had the opportunity to talk to the blonde this stop, but Father Roberto used to say that good things came to those who wait.

And he had all the time in the world.

Lily had no idea what time it was when she awoke several hours later to find the Jeep had finally stopped moving. It was pitch dark, and she struggled upright when she heard sounds coming from the back of the vehicle. "What?" she mumbled, trying to shake off the stupor that still had her in its grip. Her bottom was numb, and her neck had a crick in it from falling asleep sitting up.

"We're stopping for the night," Zach's deep voice rumbled from the direction of the cargo space.

"Oh. Okay." Yawning, she reached for her purse with one hand and the door handle with the other. "I'll give you some money for my room."

He gave a short, unamused laugh, and that was when she woke up enough to look around and realize this was no parking lot of a nice hotel, or even a cracked courtyard of the fleabag, motor-court variety. They were in the middle of nowhere.

And it was cold. She shivered as she opened the door and chill air rushed in. Teeth chattering, she closed it again and turned to kneel on the seat, reaching in back for her suitcase. She pulled out a sweater, donned it, then gingerly climbed out of the car. "Where are we?" She heard the back hatch close and squinted to see through the darkness.

"At a campground near Shasta."

"Shasta, as in the mountain?"

"That would be the one."

"And we're staying here?" She took an imprudent step forward, and her heels, not designed for their current surroundings, caught on something underfoot. She went flying.

The free-fall sensation sent her stomach swooping toward her throat, but her tumble to the ground was stopped when her upper arms were suddenly caught in hard-skinned hands. She was jerked upright, and her breasts flattened against rigid muscle with a force that knocked her breath from her lungs. Her chin bounced off Zach's hard chest, clicking her teeth together.

For a moment she simply dug her fingers into his muscular arms and clung, leaning against the comfortingly solid body propping her up. He smelled of laundry soap and man, and as she ran a quick check to make sure all her parts were still in working order, it occurred to her that being held in his arms this way felt very… safe. And warm—mercy, so blessedly warm.

Then his hands tightened on her arms and he moved her back, holding her steady until she found her balance. "Put on some sneakers before you kill yourself."

Chilled again, she peered into the darkness, trying to see him as he moved away. "I don't own any sneakers." God, he couldn't be serious about camping here, could he?

"What was I thinking?" He laughed shortly. "Of course you don't. Do you have any shoes in that bag that don't have four-inch heels?"

"I have a pair of sandals," she said with great dignity.

"You might want to put them on, then, so you don't break your neck."

She turned to go back to the car, only to realize she'd gotten turned around by her near spill. "Which direction is the Jeep? And how come you can see stuff when I can't see a blessed thing? Are you wearing a pair of those night goggles or something?"

"No, I've just got excellent night vision. Take a half turn to your right; the car's a few steps in front of you."

She very carefully made her way to the vehicle and almost wept with relief when she finally located the handle, opened the door, and the dome light came on. She admitted it; she wasn't a huge nature lover. Sunsets from a deck were about her speed. She could hear a lot of rustling going on out there in the dark, and she didn't even want to contemplate what type of nocturnal creatures might be causing it. She cast a longing glance to the keys dangling from the ignition before reluctantly giving up the fantasy they inspired of leaving Captain Commando to play soldier by himself while she flew down the highway in search of motels, hot showers, and clean sheets.

After changing her shoes, she rummaged in the glove box, whispering a fervent "thank goodness" when she found a flashlight. She climbed out of the car and went in search of GI Joe.

She found him stretched out on the ground in a sleeping bag and she stopped in her tracks, staring down at him in disbelief. "You're gonna just go to sleep?"

"Yeah. I'm beat. Get that damn light out of my eyes."

She ran it down the length of his sleeping bag, thinking how warm it looked. "What about me?"

"I didn't know you were coming along for the ride when I packed, did I, sugar britches? But you're welcome to join me in my bag."

For one heart-stopping instant she was seriously tempted, remembering the heat he'd generated during the brief moment she'd spent in his arms. She was cold , darn it, and he'd been as toasty as a convection oven on baking day.

But she wasn't so cold that she didn't know climbing into a sleeping bag built for one with Zach Taylor would be a huge mistake. Against all reason, given his insulting behavior, the man generated some serious chemistry with her. "Is there a blanket I can use?"

"There might be one in the back of the Jeep."

"You could have said so right away." Mumbling about inconsiderate men who kept women standing around freezing while they were nice and cozy, she made her way to the back of the vehicle and felt as if she'd struck gold when she located a thick fleece blanket. Wrapping it around her, she went back to stand over Zach. "I need to wash my face."

"You'll find a water jug back in the cargo space."

She shivered at the thought of using cold water. "It needs to be warm ."

His big shoulders moved beneath the bag. "Pans and the camp stove are back there, too. Knock yourself out."

Blowing out a disgruntled breath, she turned back to the Jeep, stopping on the way to fish a stick out of her sandal. The stove he'd mentioned wasn't like anything she'd ever seen; a regular camp stove she at least might have figured how to use. This one was little more than a propane canister with a pump and a ring. She gave up on the idea of hot water and slathered her face with moisturizer instead, wiping it off with a tissue in hopes of removing her makeup.

She was returning her toothbrush to her train case when she spotted Zach's duffel. She reached out and pulled it to her, then guiltily dropped her hand to her side. But guilt didn't stand up against a skinny little cashmere sweater that wasn't designed to resist more than a summer evening breeze. She'd bet Mr. Preparedness owned something more appropriate for spring nights in the mountains. She grabbed the duffel bag, slammed the cargo door, then climbed into the backseat of the Jeep. She'd been a good girl who'd played by the rules—and just look where that had gotten her.

The first thing she did after settling in was lock all the doors. She recognized a horror flick situation in the making when she saw one, and she did not intend to be one of those stupid heroines who left herself wide open to a knife-wielding maniac or, worse, some backwoods boy looking to make this city girl squeal like a pig. Then she pulled Zach's duffel onto her lap and opened it.

At first she tried not to disturb anything as she riffled through it. But that was absurd— he certainly wouldn't be so forbearing if the situation were reversed. So she upended the bag, and moaned in ecstasy at all the goodies that tumbled out. Oh, man, socks. Warm, woolen socks. She kicked off her sandals and pulled on a pair over her frozen feet. The rest of his underwear didn't offer much in the way of protection, so she tossed it over her shoulder into the cargo area. His jeans went the same way. But he had some luscious thermal T-shirts, and she peeled off her ineffectual little sweater and pulled one on. Then another. She topped off both with a wonderfully cozy Northface fleece pullover. Feeling a spurt of euphoria as she finally began to thaw, she pushed up the too-long sleeves and bent to check out the rest of his goodies in the weak illumination cast by the dome light.