Cradling a bowl of stew—it was best not to ask what kind of meat it was, and she much preferred not to know what he had caught in this dense wilderness—she regarded him with a solemn, unblinking gaze.

“I like to lie on the rock and feel the sun warm me. At times, it feels as if I cannot get warm enough, as if…as if I’m cold and empty inside.”

“Are you?” A black brow slanted upward. Firelight was reflected in the deep blue of his eyes, leaping. “Are you cold and empty inside, Ginny?”

“I—I don’t know anymore. It seems that every time I—we—try to salvage something of ourselves, we’re driven apart. Oh, Steve, I don’t know if I can take much more! I want to…to run away, and yet at the same time I want to hold on to you with all my strength.”

Pausing for breath, she waited when he lapsed into silence, regarding her with unreadable eyes, his gaze betraying nothing of what he was thinking. The fire popped and crackled, and the stew slowly cooled as she sat quietly, nerves on edge and heart pounding furiously, waiting for his response.

Finally he said, in the familiar monotone she heard most often since he had rescued her from Luna, “It’s late. We should get some sleep.”

Ginny’s hope dissolved as quickly as it had ignited, turning into a leaden acceptance. Irrelevantly, she thought suddenly of the time Steve had lost his memory, when he had looked through her as if he didn’t know her at all. Was that the way he felt about her now? As if she were a stranger?

A brisk wind sprang up, and they both crawled into the lean-to shelter Steve had built; huge leaves formed the top layer of the roof, and the windblown water made a rhythmic pattering melody. It was mesmerizing, a soothing lullaby.

In the distance, the high-pitched scream of a mountain lion pierced the night shadows. When she jerked, Steve put a hand on her shoulder.

“A mountain cat,” he muttered sleepily.

“Yes. I realize that now. It just…startled me.”

He moved beside her, and the warmth of his body and drowsy assurance brought a sudden surge of yearning that was so powerful it left her breathless, dispelling the sense of lassitude that had gripped her for so long. Her heart clutched painfully as she dredged up her barriers. No, it could hurt to be vulnerable again, to allow herself to feel.

But he rolled over, one hand reaching out to slide along the length of her arm, slowly, as if stroking a tame cat. Ginny stiffened, but before she could move, Steve bent swiftly, his mouth finding hers in the dark, dense shadows.