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molding willingly against his side as his fingers applied slight pressure along her spine. If the morning brought death, at least she would not have spent her last moments alone. He might not know it, but Hunter Kirkland might be her only taste of love.
    Carefully she rested her hand on his unharmed shoulder, her fingertips touching the chain about his neck. Unbeckoned feelings were running through her veins, warming her blood and awakening a longing she’d never known. How could just a moment’s look into his eyes affect her so? Why was the feel of his hand surveying her body addictive at first touch?
    She brushed her fingertips over his skin. Touching him excited and frightened her. Her heart pounded from thefeel of his flesh beneath her touch. Though her mind told her she shouldn’t, her senses danced with a timeless awakening. Somehow she knew that this time was special, secret and apart from the rest of the world.
    Perry had spent many nights dreaming of how it would feel to have a man by her side. She pressed her body against Hunter’s full length as her hands continued to brush his skin lightly. She could feel his smooth muscles underneath the warm flesh. A tear drifted down her cheek as she thought of the bandaged shoulder, already stained anew with blood.
    Hunter mumbled, and Perry leaned closer to understand his words. “Hold on, Abram!” he whispered. “Don’t let go. Hold on! The balloon’s going down. Hold on longer!”
    Pain ripped through him, shaking Perry’s heart with sympathy. From the depth of his cry she knew his pain was both physical and emotional. She reached up, cupping his face with her hands and whispered softly, “Hush, Hunter. It’s all right now.”
    Yet his agonized words tore through her as he continued to call softly, “Hold on, Abram!”
    Perry attempted to steady Hunter’s large frame in her small arms. She caressed his sweating face, cooing words of reassurance. When her lips brushed his forehead, she could feel the high fever within him. Tears spilled onto her cheeks as she pulled him closer. “Please, please,” she begged. “Please, Hunter, don’t die.” Her words brushed his warm lips as she pleaded.
    Then, like a storm that had blown itself at full gale, he relaxed. His body fell against her and he whispered, “Stay near.” His uninjured arm pulled her close, as if holding on to life itself.
    Perry brushed his hair from his closed eyes. Her lips trailed light kisses across his temple. Dear Lord, she thought, his nearness was intoxicating. Touching him brought her a reckless pleasure, a deep gulp of life when she’d only taken sips before.
    Her breath whispered against his ear as his hand slid up to brush the material covering her breast. He pulled her collar open enough for his fingers to caress the soft flesh of her neck. The top button pulled free, making her shirt slip from her shoulder and allowing Hunger’s fingers the freedom to slide her camisole strap off her shoulder.
    As his hand brushed her warm flesh Perry’s mind raced. He might only be holding on to life, but she was living it for the first time. Every part of her was alive. As his thumb traced the lace of her camisole to the dip between her breasts, Perry knew she wouldn’t withdraw even if his hand explored further.
    Hunter moved his face into her hair. “Don’t leave me, my angel, don’t leave me.” His voice was rich and deep, stirring her no less than his gray eyes and warm touch had.
    Tears ran down her cheeks as she whispered, “I’m here.” He might only be dreaming, but the memory of this moment would stay within her forever.
    Hunter relaxed in sleep, his arm around Perry.
    “Live,” she whispered, moving her lips against his cheek. “You must live.”
    The memory of his touch haunted Perry’s sleep as she dreamed of a tomorrow that might not come for Hunter.

Chapter 2
    As dawn glistened through the cracks and danced on the far wall, Perry awoke with a start. Noma had not