"Are you all right?" Matt said, bending down at her side, seeking her eyes. Something was wrong – she'd lost most of her color and now she was shaking, as if she was freezing cold.

Ashe shivered and looked up at him, a wounded look in her eyes.

"You can talk to me Ashe," he said simply.

"It's nothi…" she started to answer. She was unprepared for the volley of emotion his touch elicited – peculiar new feelings stirred in her -- dangerous ones.

Ashe began to speak again. "My father died in an arson fire. Stuff like this brings it all back again. I … I despise arson. I despise the intentional cruelty of it."

Ashe knew that she'd never get over what happened to her father. Getting to the bottom of his death would give her some measure of peace, but unless and until that happened, she had to keep the demon of fear securely locked away. She knew she couldn't survive repeated run-ins with it. She just couldn't.

Matt followed quickly behind her, sensing her fear. "Ashe, talk to me," he pleaded, grabbing her arm and spinning her around. "Trust me, whatever's eating at you, it won't do you any good keeping it bottled up. In fact, keeping it inside could put you in jeopardy."

"What do you mean, put me in jeopardy?" she said, not understanding.

"I mean you're a helo pilot. You need every ounce of your concentration up there. I couldn't bear …" Matt stopped short, surprised at the words coming out of his mouth. He started again, "You're responsible for my crew to a large degree while we're out here. I don't need you to be distracted, so whatever's on your mind, tell me. Maybe I can help."

"Trust me. You can't help. No one can," she whispered, near tears. "I'll—I'll get it together, just give me a moment to …"

Ashe never saw it coming. His lips came down on hers, covering them urgently, before disappearing again. She searched his eyes, finding numerous emotions displayed there. She recognized the most overt one – desire. He wanted her.

She reached up and put her hands in the middle of his chest. The raw fear in her eyes were his undoing. Her hands traveled further, reaching the top of his shoulder. He bent to meet her gesture, lowering his head so his lips could claim hers once again. They were impossibly soft, like shelter from the storm of her emotions. A thunderbolt of desire rocked her.