have lost yours. I know, I know. To you...” “Beth,” he began but she clamped her hand over his mouth. “To you, darling, I’m a stranger, just another woman. I know I can’t be anything more right now. You’ll have to learn to love me again. “But me? Nick, it’s different with me. I’ve waited for thirteen long months for you to love me again, and by some miracle you’ve come back. You’re here and so am I. I love you and I want you. Oh, darling, pretend I’m a whore; pretend I’m anything ... but make love to me. Pay no attention to anything except to me...” His mouth folded over hers, shutting off the flow of words in a passionate kiss, while his hands smoothed down over the wisp of silk that kept his fingers from her flesh. Her arms clung to him tightly. “It won’t be hard, Beth,” he whispered against the side of her face. “You’re beautiful ... it won’t be hard to love you...” Then she twisted from him, making a memory [p41] of the film of nightgown that had kept his hands away from her. He moved to her, his fingers stroking her into passion while she pulled his face down to the soft thrust of her breasts. Then she was clamped against him and struggling to get even closer, her body making a prison for him ... yet at the same time giving him freedom. [p41] [p ] Later, when she slept, he propped himself on one elbow to study the soft lines of her face. Then he too dropped off to sleep. His uniform was torn by the purple bushes and their nine inch thorns, and streamers of blood painted the rich blue and yellow of his trousers. His face was smeared with grey, pasty dirt and the hand that held the auto-pistol was wet with sweat. His stomach had rolled into a tight ball within him and he was frightened. They were out there somewhere, waiting for the sound of his black leather boots to clatter on one of the grey-green rocks that littered the hillside. They would find him. Their damned radar antennae would spot him for them. There was no escape from the bastards, and he knew it. Commander Imry had bungled every damned assignment