LITMIR.BIZ

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fork without hesitation. Then he took a left. Josie found herself struggling up steep slopes, then sliding down the other side. Dirt walls turned into narrow tunnels of stone, worn down from decades of wear. Loose rocks tumbled around them, bouncing off their hard hats.

      Josie began to miss the light of day. Jack was beside her, steady and reassuring, but the thin yellow beams of their hats looked so feeble against the unending darkness. She felt the sides of the tunnel unbearably close. At times when they crawled, her head dragged against the ceiling while her hips brushed the side, and the only thing that kept her moving was Jack’s feet in front of her. If his large form could get through, then so could hers. They wound down deeper and deeper, making the walking easy on their lungs but hard on their knees. Josie had the impression that they were disappearing deep into the bowels of the earth, and she wasn’t so sure how they would get back out.

      At last, they appeared in a small chamber, tall enough for them to stand, but wide enough only for six or seven people. It was pitch-black and filled with stale air.

      “Now what?” There was a hint of desperation in her voice. She tried to rein it in because she had a feeling that if she gave in to the hysteria, there would be no going back.

      “We go through the tunnel.”

      “What tunnel?” Josie looked around. The idea of leaving this chamber appealed to her tremendously.

      She felt a tug on her wrist and discovered Jack on his hands and knees. The beam of his hat illuminated what appeared to be a small indent in the wall.

      “That tunnel.” He pointed at the crevice.

      Josie shook her head. “That is not a tunnel.”

      “Yes, it is. It’s just…a rather small one.”

      “Stryker, a canary could not fit through that passage.”

      Jack took a deep breath. Then she knew she was in trouble. “Josie, there are ten inches between the top of the tunnel and the bottom of this chamber. The human body can squeeze through a ten-inch height.”

      She said the only thing she could think of. “My breasts aren’t that small.”

      Her light illuminated Jack’s flashing smile. “Of course.” His tone grew somber. “I’ve passed through here before. It’s the Miner’s Squeeze and it’s tough. It’s three body-lengths long, and frankly, it will probably take us an hour.”

      “An hour?”

      “An hour. Inhaling expands your lungs and will fill the space, so take only small half breaths. When you exhale, releasing the pressure, push yourself forward with your toes. You’ll move forward an inch or two—”

      “Oh God, Stryker, I would rather face poison darts any day of the week than that tunnel. Please…”

      “Josie,” he said firmly. “On the other side is a huge cavern. You could host a football game or fly a kite in the damn thing. Unfortunately, Mother Nature has a habit of connecting really large caves with really tiny passageways. This is our only option. You can do it.”

      Josie shut her eyes. What if she breathed in too deeply and got stuck? What if it got so narrow, she could no longer move? She would be pinned in the tunnel, trapped by thousands of tons of rock. She would starve to death, like a roach that had crawled into an insect trap and couldn’t get back out.

      And Jack would get to starve with her, handcuffed to her wrist.

      “I…I can’t. I just…can’t.”

      Jack rose to his feet. His hands felt warm and firm as he settled them on her shoulders. “You’re going to do this and I’m going to help you.”

      “What if part of it has collapsed? What if I get stuck?”

      “You’re not going to get stuck.” Jack was taking off his waterlogged dress shoes. Next went his socks.

      “What if you get stuck.”

      “Josie, we’re going to make it. Both of us.” He took her hand, but she barely felt it. She was shaking now. She was frozen to the bone and dangerously close to full-fledged hysteria. The walls were already closing in on her. The logical part of her brain fought it. She’d never been prone to hysterics, she’d never succumbed to panic attacks. She was Josie Reynolds, practical, efficient and quick-thinking. Spunky, spunky, spunky.

      She wrapped her arms around Jack’s waist and clung to him desperately.

      His free arm folded around her. “Shh,” she heard him whisper. “It will be all right. It will be all right.”

      He was stroking her cheek, then pulling twigs gently from her hair. His hands smoothed down her back, rubbing small circles, then folding around her waist. He rocked her against him and she pressed her face farther into him.

      He smelled like soap and sweat and pine. He felt so lean and strong. She could feel his rib cage, hear the rhythm of his heart. And suddenly she wanted him so much. She wanted to kiss him and touch him and taste him. She wanted to rip off his clothes until his skin was hot and naked against her. She wanted to lose herself in him, to feel alive and safe, to have the darkness melt away. And she wanted him moving inside her. She wanted them looking into each other’s eyes, knowing they were as close as two people could be and thinking that it was absolutely right.

      She loved Jack Stryker, for every stubborn, righteous, honorable bone in his body.

      She pulled away and scrubbed furiously at her cheeks.

      “All right, I’ll do it.”

      Jack caught her chin. He tilted her head until she was forced to meet his steady blue gaze. She didn’t want to look him in the eye. She was afraid he’d see every emotion she felt and even more afraid that he wouldn’t. That this vulnerable, fragile, wonderful bond between them would be severed once more and send them both adrift.

      That they would succumb to the tunnels without a chance to make everything right.

      “Take it slow,” he said quietly. “You enter feet first and I’ll follow head first, with our handcuffed hands between us. We’ll be facing each other the whole time. Talk to me if you need to. But don’t panic, Josie. You absolutely, positively, cannot panic.”

      “Okay.”

      “Take small breaths and at regular intervals. You don’t need a lot of oxygen, just a steady supply.”

      “I’ll take small breaths.”

      She looked at the black indent once more. She looked at him and the wide breadth of his shoulders. She tasted the fear rising like bile in her throat.

      “You’ll get through, right?” Her voice wasn’t steady.

      His thumb ran down her cheek. “Of course.” He smiled one last time, but it was a somber expression. As she watched, his hand moved to his waist, and a minute later, he’d stripped off his pants. Next, he shrugged out of his jacket. It dangled on the handcuffs joining them. With two fierce tugs, he ripped it off. Then he discarded his tie and unbuttoned his white dress shirt that he left hanging on the cuffs between them.

      He finally met her confused expression.

      “You’ll fit okay,” he said quietly, “but the last time I did this, I was nineteen years old. I think I may have filled out an inch or two since then. Probably, there will come a time for me when the extra millimeters taken up by clothing will matter.”

      “Jack…” She wanted to get the words out. She tried to get the words out. If something went wrong, she wanted it all said between them. She valued honesty as much as he did, and after life with her father, perhaps even more. But she couldn’t get the three syllables past her throat. She kept choking on the tears.

      “Come on, Josie. Let’s do this.”

      He pulled her down to the floor. She flattened onto her stomach, the light from her hard hat stabbing at the narrow crawl space. With her head

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