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As if he wanted to think about her toes right now. Cute pink toes that were probably as waxy as her face. "So your toes are fine. Then let's keep moving."

He levered away and charged ahead. The last thing they needed was a sex discussion where he confirmed that yes, he knew she faked the big finish.

She enjoyed the hell out of foreplay. He wasn't so dense he missed that. But near the end of the actual act, that woman could talk herself out of an orgasm faster than the emergency barrier could stop a plane on a short runway.

Not that she was actually speaking out loud during those moments. Yet he could hear the gears turning in her head until the door clanged shut on any hope of a screaming finish. Sure, she continued to go through the motions. Acrobatic motions, incredibly sensual motions.

But only half there.

Every time he'd thought about confronting her on the subject—gently, of course, he wasn't a totally clueless male— her defensive expression afterward left him with no doubts. If he brought up the topic, this prideful woman would bolt.

So he'd tried his best, read anything on the subject he could find, and worked on strengthening his relationship with a wife he couldn't come close to understanding. He'd had hopes for their leave time together in their new home, romancing her in front of the fireplace with spiced wine and presents.

Only to have her bolt before they could unpack the wineglasses or untie the first bow.

Okay, so
he'd
walked. Technicality. But she'd made it clear she wanted him gone.

His senses heightened back in the moment. No footsteps crunched behind him. His feet slowed, halted.

Not a man who believed much in retreating, still he appreciated the wisdom in battle prep and choosing his ground wisely. This was not it.

Staring ahead while too aware of her behind him, he forced low, controlled words through his teeth.

"Now is not the time or place. Walk, damn it."

"Why did you marry me if you thought the sex sucked?"

Ah, hell. The very reason he did not want to discuss this with her. Logic wouldn't win him squat. "I did not say that."

"Your eyes implied it."

God, it killed him inside to hear the hurt under her defensiveness. So what if they froze? Damned well looked like that might happen, anyway.

Besides, logic also told him one's mental state contributed to survival, which offered the excuse he needed to delay walking farther just yet.

He strode back to her, gripped her shoulders and tugged her under the protective cover of a tree. She really did need a break even if she was too prideful to admit it. "That isn't what I meant. Being with you is...was...incredible."

Her defiant eyes met his, her face trimmed with the white fur around her hood, which almost managed to hide the tremble of her chin that had nothing to do with chattering teeth. "Apparently not if you felt something was lacking."

His fists clenched in her jacket. "Damn it, you're not lacking, but you
are
trying to pick a fight."

"I'm not the one who brought up faking, Colonel Freudian Slip."

How could he explain that being with Alicia when she was half there was better than being with anyone else completely in the moment? What a hellish line to walk, reassuring her about a relationship that was already over, opening them both back up to the slashing pain.

But he'd never been one to take the easy way out, and he'd once loved her enough to marry her. He owed her something, owed them both some peace.

"Okay, I admit that at first I expected things to be—" damn, but he was entering a minefield "—different between us."

"You thought because I'm unconventional on the outside that you were getting somebody more uninhibited?" She slumped back against the tree trunk, arms folded defensively over her chest. "Poor baby. What a shocker for you."

"Never mind." Screw this. He thrust away from the tree. "I'm bailing out of this conversation."

"Like hell you are." She hooked both her hands around his arm.

"Let's get this straight right now." He pivoted, smacking one hand over her head and meeting her nose to pink nose. "I was not disappointed. The attraction was there, no damn doubt about that. And that attraction was...is...so freaking intense I'm hard from just standing here with you, thinking about being inside you. The draw between us is that strong. Rare, even. Worth working for. I was certain that given time, we would have something—" heat flamed through him in spite of the arctic winds "—

unsurpassable."

She sagged back, some of the fight seeping out of her in palpable waves. Her lips parted, begging to be kissed. "I am attracted to you, so much. I want you to know that."

"I know." And damn, damn, damn, but that knowledge blazed through him until he wanted her all over again. Here, now, against this tree until her cries of completion reverberated through the forest.

Why the hell did she keep closing herself off from him? The thought that it might be because she still loved some man long in the grave made Josh want to pound the tree.

Blast something out of the sky.

He'd thought often enough if she would only be honest with him, he could have handled his gripping frustration better. He'd even reached deep to tell her about the holiday siege at his college in hopes she would open up. No dice.

And now here they were all open and chatty, and he didn't feel one damned bit better. "Don't the magazines all say a percentage of sex is in the woman's head? I figured the problem had more to do with how much we were apart. You needed more, hell, I don't know. Time. Time to be comfortable with me."

To forget about the other guy.

She stared down at her booted feet, not so much avoiding but seeming to absorb his words without having to meet his eyes. "Why didn't you say something before?"

"And willingly have this discussion? Shit. I'm screwed no matter what I say here."

Finally, she looked up, so much pain and remorse in her eyes, he had to restrain himself from gathering her against him—the fastest way he could think of to send her running.

And damned if maybe he might want to hear the rest of this conversation after all.

"It isn't you, Josh. It's me. I guess I'm one of those percentages of women who just don't—"

"You could." And, man, he wanted a second chance to prove that to her.

"God, you are so arrogant. Where is it written that whoever has the most orgasms wins? Do you really believe climaxing equates with love? If so, I'm not so sure I like what that says about you." Her pain swelled, mixing with typical Alicia fire and bravado. "What? You don't have an answer for that, genius?"

His momentary flash of hope at a second chance fizzled, replaced by a dawning sense of how much deeper their problems went than miscommunication in bed. Because still she wasn't being straight up with him.

He started to wonder if maybe he was hoping for too much from life. He could toss all the wisecracks out there and somehow there would still be a wall between him and the rest of the world.

Josh canted closer, his mouth hovering just over hers. "Maybe it's you who thinks coming equals love, otherwise why fake it? Why not be honest with me?" The answer unfolded too easily in his head, stomping that ember of hope dead even as her chin tipped to bring her lips nearer. "You thought I'd walk.

And I'm not so sure I like what that says about what you think of me."

Her hand clamped around the back of his head. She yanked him down.

Josh jolted in surprise. He should have seen it coming, if for no other reason than it made zero sense.

Alicia was all about the unexpected, after all.

She arched against him, her mouth open, hot and needy under his just as he remembered from so many times before with her. The hot pulse of lust surged through him, lust and something else he didn't want in his life anymore. Her tongue met and tangled with his, stroking insistently with a moist heat that warmed him from the inside out. Little whimpers tore from her throat, vibrating against him and assuring him nobody was faking anything at the moment.

Plastering herself to him, Alicia locked her arms around his neck, her body flattened to his until he could almost swear their layers of clothes melted away. He pressed her against the tree, no clue where this was going but unable to scrounge the will to stop after weeks without the feel of her against him.

A fresh gust of wind battered his back, but he barely felt it. Rustling branches overhead sounded too much like rustling sheets for his comfort level.

Splat.

Except sheets didn't dump snow on his head. The cold thud brought a needed splash of reality. His fogged brain cleared enough for him to sense the desperation and frenzy in her.

Josh eased away. "We need to stop and find cover for the night."

Alicia's hold stayed strong. "No. Later," she mumbled, tracing his bottom lip with her tongue. "Soon. Not now."

He backed away from the tree. From her. From the temptation to say screw it all and keep kissing her instead of talking, because he knew well the woman enjoyed the hell out of kissing him. "Come on. We are done with this topic of conversation. And anything else, for that matter. I'm going to find somewhere to camp and you'd damn well better follow."

He swiped aside a branch and forced his feet forward.

"You don't like what I'm thinking about you? Well you
did
walk, Joshua Rosen." Her accusation full of pain chased him on the wind. "You're walking now."

Huh? He stopped without turning. "Are you saying you didn't want me to move out of the apartment?"

When she didn't answer, he glanced back over his shoulder. "Well?"

Panic flared in her eyes along with poorly shielded hurt. "Um, you know, I think you were right earlier.

This isn't the time to discuss anything important. The one-in-four-decisions-sucking rule, remember?

Besides, the longer we stand around, the longer we're cold."

He started to snap right back, then hesitated. He'd seen his wife face enemy fire without flinching, yet now her voice trembled from fear over...what? Not the cold, but something else that apparently he'd been too wrapped up in his own bruised ego to notice before. If he ever expected to move on with his life, he needed to bank his anger and settle things with her one way or another. He couldn't live in this limbo any longer.

Turning, he planted his boots and stood his ground. "I asked you a question. Were you just pissed and not serious when you told me to get the hell out and don't come back?"

Tears pooled and crystallized in the corners of her eyes. Tears—holy hell—from Alicia?

"I'm sorry, Josh. And I really do mean that. I thought that..." She paused, struggling for words. "That what we had would be enough. That I could get past— That I could be—"

Tipping her face to the sky, she blinked fast.

He stepped closer. "Alicia—"

"Stop." She held up a shaky hand as if to place fresh barriers between them. As if there weren't enough already. "This isn't going to get us anywhere."

"Were you or were you not serious?"

"I meant every word."

"Do you still mean them?"

She hesitated a second too long. "Yes. Of course."

Not buying it. "Maybe we should—"

"No," she insisted, both hands up, palms facing out to stop him this time. "I know you. You resent not being able to decipher something. Figuring me out has become a challenge to you. That's all."

Apparently she understood him pretty well. "I'll admit to that. But it's not the whole picture."

"Regardless, how about I clear up the mystery for you? This isn't something you can fix. The problem is mine and it's not fixable," she insisted with a strength that suddenly seemed brittle.

"Why are you so damned sure? Maybe I might have an answer for you, but we'll never know for sure since you're holding out on me, and I don't mean in bed."

She stilled. "I don't know what you mean."

"I think you do. Even if we end up in divorce court, we meant something to each other. I do not want to spend the rest of my life wondering where the hell I screwed up."

"How many times do I have to repeat myself?" Her voice cracked. "It wasn't you. You need all the facts?

Fine. Eight years ago, I was dating a man. Ben. We were thinking about getting married. But I imagine my blabbermouth sister has already told you that much."

He didn't bother acknowledging the obvious.

"What my sister didn't know was that over Christmas break, I turned down his surprise gift of a two-carat solitaire engagement ring."

Turned down?

He definitely hadn't seen this twist coming. "So why does this guy still have such a hold over you?"

"His possessiveness had become smothering." She forced the facts out on labored wafts of air, but with shoulders braced. "He didn't take it well. But I was prepared for that and it didn't worry me. After all, I was only a semester away from being a commissioned officer. A warrior. I could protect myself. Or so I thought."

The answer he'd been waiting for roared to life inside him ahead of the rest of her words. He knew what would come next. And no. Hell, no! He wanted to back up this conversation, somehow roll back time eight years to wipe out what he was now certain had happened to his wife.

Bilious rage burned up his throat, only to be frozen into a choking chunk of frustration.

Alicia met his gaze dead-on, warrior strong even when wounded, her face as wind-raw as her words.

"When I told him it was over, he attacked me."

Alicia held herself still and tall, so brittle inside she feared the building winds might shatter her. Even more than the storm winds, she feared Josh's reaction.

Her gaze raked from the hard lines of his stoic face to his fisted gloves, all the way down to his mukluks planted in the snow, while she waited for him to absorb the words she'd never told anyone. Snow pouring from the sky collected on his shoulders while he waited for her to finish.

Whoever said confiding heartache lessened the burden had been a big, fat fraud. She didn't feel one bit better. In fact, the burden so overpowered her right now, she longed to sink into a drift or climb up one of those towering trees again and hide.