“All the way to the fringe,” she said, not bothering to hide her smile. “Just my luck.”
She was grateful for the extra time with him. The journey to the fringe was four rings out from their current position inside the tourist circle, so that meant Solara would have several more weeks in Doran’s company. Thinking about it sent a gradual warmth through her limbs until the shaking stopped.
The sensation lasted until the sun went down.
It was amazing how quickly the oppressive desert heat vanished, leached from the cave’s dark stone walls as the first shadows crept in. The temperature plummeted, and she began shivering again. At least she had a jacket. Doran had left his on the ruined ship, along with a sack of fuel chips and everything he owned.
She told him to search the shuttle for an emergency pack while she checked for activity outside. Taking a seat at the mouth of the cave, she peered at the night sky, expecting to see the orange glow of thrusters. Nothing glowed in the heavens except for two moons and a ribbon of stars twisted into a nebula. But though the activity seemed to have died, the criminal instincts Doran loved so much warned her to stay put for a while longer.
“I found something.” Doran’s voice echoed from the rear of the crevasse, where the absence of starlight made it impossible to see his discovery.
She detected a rustle of fabric. “A blanket?” she asked, afraid to hope.
“More or less.” He joined her and held up a strip of foil-like cloth the approximate size of a bath towel. “Hope you don’t mind sharing.”
“Will that thing cover both of us?”
“Only one way to find out,” he said, and started glancing around at the floor. “Where do you want to sleep?”
A new shiver rolled over her, one that had nothing to do with the temperature. When she’d resolved to spend the night here, it hadn’t occurred to her that she and Doran would need to huddle for warmth.
When she didn’t answer, he asked, “We’re staying till morning, right?”
Clearing her throat, she nodded and pointed at the spot beside her. “We’ll camp here, so we can keep an eye out for trouble.”
If he felt the same nervous tingling at the prospect of sleeping beside her, he didn’t let it show. He unbuckled his belt—just for comfort, she hoped—then lay on his side with his back pressed to the cave wall and one arm curled beneath his head like a pillow. By way of invitation, he extended his other arm to her.
Solara reminded herself that this was no big deal. People shared body heat all the time in emergency situations. But despite all her encouraging self-talk, she curled onto her side and barely touched him. Doran fixed that problem by wrapping an arm around her waist and tugging her backward until they nested together like two spoons in a drawer.
Solara’s breath hitched while her skin buzzed with awareness. Every inch of him was molded to her, so hot that she doubted they’d need the blanket at all. His heart beat against her shoulder in a strong, steady thump. If he could feel hers, he would know it was trying to pound its way out of her chest.
He spread the meager blanket over their joined bodies and then slid his arm beneath, where he settled it squarely under her breasts and hugged her even closer. With his chin resting atop her head, he asked, “Better?”
She gulped.
This was so much better…or worse, depending on whether she wanted to get any actual rest tonight. With all the atoms in her body pinging against one another in a manic dance, sleep wasn’t going to happen. She wished she were as unaffected by his touch as she pretended to be. As she lay beneath the glamour of a thousand twinkling stars, she wondered if Doran felt the same magnetism.
“If you’re still cold,” he murmured, his warm breath stirring her hair, “we could take off our shirts and try this skin-to-skin.”
Her whole body flashed hot before she realized he was joking. She delivered a light elbow to the belly and told him, “Keep dreaming.”
“Just trying to be helpful.”
“You’re such a gentleman.”
His thumb brushed the base of her rib cage, forcing her to release a shamefully loud sigh. “See?” he said. “At least I’m good for something.” Then he felt the need to add, “I’ve been told my body’s a furnace.”
And just like that, the spell broke.
Because with those words came a painful reminder that she wasn’t the first girl Doran Spaulding had held like this, and she wouldn’t be the last. Even if he felt the same stirrings of attraction that she did, where could it possibly lead? He would forget her as soon as he returned to his life on Earth and all the pink-haired princesses waiting for him. She and Doran were cut from different cloth. They were friends now, but only by circumstance.
She needed to remember that.