“It’s too small. I don’t fit.”

“Yes, you do. Curl into a ball, just like your baby when he was inside of you. You’ll stay warmer.”

She popped her head out of the hole and looked at him. “I’m…I’m not brave,” she told him, as if she were confessing her greatest sin. “I’m a coward.”

“You are not. Courage is nothing more than having a choice and doing the scary thing anyway. You’ve shown more courage today than any other person I know, Grace Sutter. And you’ll continue to fight because of your baby, and because I’m going to be damn mad if you don’t.” He leaned down until their noses were nearly touching. “And believe me,” he said softly, “this cave will seem like heaven compared with my temper.”

He almost fell over when she kissed him. She tilted her head and brushed her cold, soft lips against his.

His heart nearly stopped beating. He held her by the back of the head and deepened the kiss. She opened her mouth and accepted his tongue inside her again, gently sucking on it with innocent ardor.

It was Grey wanting to crawl inside her skin this time. The woman was slowly killing him with desperation

—and with her unbelievable trust. She was kissing him, not crying or railing that he take her with him.

Not even questioning his decision.

Just simply kissing him.

Grey pulled her back out of the hole, just enough so he could wrap his arms around her again. He slid his hands up under his shirts that she wore and once more covered both of her breasts as he swallowed her moan with his mouth.

A large chunk of ice suddenly hit him squarely on the back. Grey broke their kiss and stared at Grace, his hands still holding her intimately.

“Thank you,” she whispered, covering his hands with hers, clasping them to her breasts.

“You’re welcome,” he whispered back, looking at her mouth.

“Don’t…don’t read anything into what just happened,” she said, suddenly wiggling back, sounding more like herself. “Your kisses just warm me up.”

Grey dropped his hands away from her breasts and smoothed down her sweater.

“Can I keep the bag?” she asked.

He had to mentally shift gears. He shook his head. He was still feeling the effects of her kiss, and she was back to business.

“Yes,” he said, inwardly cringing at the thought of putting her dead sister into the tomb-like cave with her.

He stood up and found the bag. He took out some supplies for Baby and then carried it over to her, tucking it in beside her.

“Grace. I don’t want you going to sleep, do you understand? You’ve got to stay awake until I come back.”

“I know. I might not wake up.”

Satisfied that she understood the consequences, he reached down and ran a finger over her face. “I want you to spend your time thinking of a name for your baby, Grace, while I’m gone. I expect to hear your answer when I get back.”

She didn’t answer him. She was too busy digging into her confounded bag again. He watched her pull out a thin black box, recognizing it as the computer she had used earlier. She opened it up and pushed a button. The machine started to hum and make funny noises, and suddenly Grace’s little cave was awash in light.

She looked up at him. “I’m going to write a letter,” she said. “And it won’t be dark in here, either.” She reached up and ran her finger over his cheek. “Okay. Cover me up.” He saw her take a deep breath. “I’

m ready.”

“Never say you’re a coward, Grace. Never use that word for yourself again,” he said past the lump of anguish clogging his throat. Damn, he wished she had waited until he was gone to give herself light. Now he couldn’t get the picture of her out of his head.

He could see her clearly, and it was not a reassuring sight. There was no color left on her face. She was as starkly white as the snow that surrounded her. Her hair was soaked, and her eyes were sunken into her head. Her lips were the only thing he could see that had any color, and they were blue.

And all his lovemaking had accomplished, as far as he could tell, was to warm her up just enough that she was shivering again.

But how long would it last?

Grey forced himself to turn away. He began carving out a large slab of crust with his fist. He pounded the ice until his hands were raw, taking out his frustration at what he was about to do.

He picked up the slab of crust and held it over Grace, and this time it was his turn to take a steadying breath. She was clutching the computer as if it were a lifeline, its light reflecting off her pale features.

“I’m coming back, Grace. In just a few hours, I’ll be pulling you out of here.”

“I know.”

He started to set the slab over the entrance.

“Grey?”

“Yes?” he said, moving it aside.

“Warmth isn’t the only reason I like your kisses,” she softly admitted, not looking at him.

“I know,” he said. “You like kissing a superman.”

“Hmmm,” she murmured, still not looking at him.

“Something like that.”

“Tomorrow, lass, once you’re sitting in front of the roaring hearth at Gu Bràth, I’ll explain to you why you like them so much,” he whispered before setting the slab of crust over the entrance, patting it into place and securing it with more snow.

Grey closed his eyes and began the same litany of prayers he usually reserved for flying. They had worked once already today, allowing him to survive plummeting three thousand feet down to the ground.

He hoped they worked again to keep Grace Sutter safe.

That done, he quickly returned to Baby. He put the pack back on over his naked chest and then unwrapped his jacket. Baby, still blissfully unaware that he was in the middle of a treacherous march, was sleeping again. Grey picked him up, kissed his warm little cheek, and settled him into his pack. He slipped back into his jacket, then picked up Grace’s shirt and coat. He hung them over an ice-encrusted branch, at eye level, to mark the spot for his return.

He headed down the mountain again, this time setting a pace as if the hounds of hell were dogging his heels.

Grace waited until she was sure he was gone before she broke into loud, gut-wrenching sobs. She had survived the terrifying crash with Grey, argued with him, and helped him. He had listened to her opinions, discussed their choices, and allowed her the dignity to go down fighting. Not once had he tried to brush her aside and take complete control of the situation. And she knew, without compunction, that if she had fought him about staying here now, he would have died trying to take her with him.

Today they had forged a bond that she hadn’t known could exist between two people. Together they had struggled for their very survival, and they were winning.

She was burrowed into a snow cave like a hibernating bear, but Grey would return for her. She knew he would.

But she wasn’t stupid, either. She also knew that anything could happen on his trip down the mountain, and there was no guarantee he would make it back in time. So she was going to pull up her word-processing program and write her last will and testament.

And she was going to write a letter to Michael MacBain.

She was the only living person in the world who knew who Baby’s father was. She could not go to her grave without revealing the truth.

Chapter Six

The old wizard opened the door and stepped out onto the cabin porch, ignoring the sting of sleet on his face as he looked up toward where TarStone Mountain stood in dark, stoic indifference. He couldn’t see past the end of the clearing that surrounded his home, but he still felt the mountain’s substantial presence.

He also knew all was not right with it.

The storm had arrived on unusually silent feet, creeping down over the east ridge like a predatory beast.

The rain had started yesterday morning, beginning as a mist that had clung like hoarfrost to everything it touched. By afternoon it had become steady, relentlessly encasing the world under a sheet of glistening ice. And now, deep into the wee hours of the morning, the heavy, entombing ice was half an inch thick.