The man with the wicked eyes and even more wicked hands, the one she imagined would headline her fantasies for years to come, was standing right there in front of her.

Only now he wasn't in worn jeans and a clean T-shirt, sitting at the bar tapping his foot in tune with the music as a storm raged outside. Now he wasn't looking alone and sexy, and just a tad bit dangerous to her mental health.

Now he was…oh, definitely still sexy and just a tad bit dangerous to her mental health-but no longer alone late at night.

He was surrounded by her team, looking for all the world as if he belonged there, looking as if he'd been born there.

"Commander Atkinson? This is Mike Wright," Tom said proudly. "In the flesh."

Flesh. Oh, she knew his flesh. Intimately. And at just the thought, she blushed.

Blushed.

Unimaginable. She opened her mouth, maybe to deny this could really be happening, maybe just to let out an indignant squeak, but thankfully, he spoke first.

"You're the commander?" He looked as sick as she did. "Commander Atkinson?"

At least he was every bit as stunned as she. Which didn't help things, not one little bit, not when her perfect stranger was… Oh my God.

On her team.

He was a subordinate. He was going to have to take direct orders from her, and as she knew damned well, he wouldn't like it. He was strong and tough and his own man…and this couldn't be happening, this couldn't really be happening.

She couldn't have accidentally slept with someone she was going to work closely with. God, more than closely, they were going to be practically glued at the hip for the next four months. This was some sort of cosmic joke. It had to be.

A nightmare.

For the first time in her life, she was truly speechless, with no idea of how to react.

But she could see he did. In fact, he was already reaching out his hand, not to shake hers as a stranger would, but to hold it and squeeze gently, in that very familiar way he had, a way that would scream to anyone watching what they'd been to each other, only hours before. "You're-"

"Mike. Mike Wright."

He had a name. Fancy that. She jerked her hand away and carefully schooled her features into a cool passivity. "Nice to meet you."

He wasn't only surprised at her civil tone and refusal to acknowledge that they knew each other, he looked shocked as well. But she couldn't register that at the moment; all she could think was …he was Mike Wright!

Not her first choice for pilot, or even her second, but those men had been taken from her by circumstance. When American-born and Russian-trained astronaut Mikhail Wright had been suggested for emergency secondary backup, she'd agreed, because his amazing talent and precise control were well known. Though she'd never met him, she'd thought he'd be perfect.

Perfect.

God, he was. He had been. And now she'd pay the price.

"It was very good of you to leave Russia and your projects there to come join our team," she said evenly. "Thank you."

He just stared at her.

"Well…" Her voice trailed off, because for just a moment she wasn't the commander, but Corrine the woman, the one who'd let a man in, and because of that had seen possibilities she couldn't imagine.

The situation couldn't be worse. Well, okay, actually it could; everyone in the room could know she'd slept with him.

That would be worse.

If her team found out, she'd lose her tough, intense edge, at least in their eyes. AD her control would be taken away, and much of their respect, and that would be a fate worse than death because of how hard she'd worked to get where she was.

Straightening both her spine and her resolve, Corrine forced a little smile, hoping he got her silent message and urgent plea. "You'll want to get started immediately. First we'll acquaint you with what we've been doing. You've got an all-day meeting with the mission specialists, whom I see you already know."

Frank and Jimmy beamed.

Mike never took his eyes off her, his big, leanly muscled body taut as wire. He said nothing.

"Then tomorrow, at 0800 hours, we'll get started on our SIM," she said, referring to their simulation in a huge tank of water that projected the approximate weightlessness of the environment in space. She was already wondering how she could get out of that exercise herself. "After training together for a week, becoming a team, we'll leave for Johnson Space Center, where we'll stay for the remaining months before launch, training on a daily basis."

He still just stared at her, his mouth grim, and in the depths of his fathomless eyes she saw things she didn't know how to respond to-surprise and shock, not to mention bitter disappointment at the way she'd handled this impossible situation.

Finally, after a long, hard moment in which she sweated buckets inside her far too stuffy suit, he slowly nodded, every inch of him serious and businesslike in a way that made her want to cry.

"See you then," he said, in a voice made of steel. Turning on his heel, he left the room, and Corrine could only watch him go.

And wonder at the odd sense of loss she experienced.

The rest of the day was pure torture, and it was only day one. She had months left to go before she could be alone to lick her wounds and get over it.

Get over what exactly, Corrine wasn't sure, but she wasn't going to allow herself to think about it, not yet.

Not surprisingly, she ran into Mike twice more before the end of the day. Each time was more difficult than the last. The first was after his initial mission meeting. She happened to have the bad luck-which seemed to be following her around!-to be walking down the hallway as he came out of the conference room.

His shirtsleeves were shoved up; his hair was ruffled as if he'd run his fingers through it often. But his gaze went right to hers, and it was hot.

There were people everywhere, leaving her with no opportunity to do anything other than ask him about the meeting. He responded in kind, revealing nothing, for which she was grateful.

But as she walked away, quaking inside with so many unnamed emotions, she felt his gaze on her, and continued to feel it long after he was out of sight.

The second time she ran into him was in the middle of the night. The entire team was being housed on-site; each team member had a private bedroom, but they shared three community bathrooms.

Unfortunately for Corrine, she always seemed to need a pit stop around midnight, and this night was no exception. She left the bathroom and walked down the darkened hallway, plowing into a solid chest.

"Corrine."

There was no other voice in the world that could make her knees wobble. No other voice that could evoke so many thoughts and emotions that she quivered in response.

"We have to talk," he said.

"Not here." Panic such as she'd never known welled up in her, because with this man she felt weak. Vulnerable.

Not allowed.

She couldn't talk to him about their "problem," not yet, not until she had a better grip on her emotions and could fully control herself. He would never again see her without that control.

Memories flashed through her mind. She'd totally lost it with him, let him do anything and everything. She'd been spread-eagled and open on the hotel bed, with him kneeling over her, using his fingers, his tongue, his entire body to make her cry out and beg. That he'd cried out and begged, too, didn't matter. His control wasn't at question here, hers was.

"Talking won't help," she said. "It's done."

"It doesn't have to be."

What was he implying? That he wanted her again? How was that possible, now that he knew who she was?

Didn't matter. She didn't want it to happen again. She wanted to move on, as if she'd never allowed her weakness, her loneliness, her momentary lapse of sanity to occur. "It's over, Mike." Saying his name helped. Her perfect stranger had a name and an identity to go along with that long, hard, warm body she'd worshipped all night long.

"Just like that?" he asked. "Fast as it started?"

"Yes."

"Harsh, don't you think?"

"That's life." She forced herself to remain cool when she had the most insane urge to ask for a hug. "Goodbye, Mike."

"You can't say goodbye to me. I'm on your team."

"I'm not saying goodbye to you as my teammate."

He shook his head and looked at her in a way that made her want to weep. "And I'm not saying goodbye to you as my lover-"

She set her finger on his lips, barely able to speak. "Don't say it," she begged. "Don't say anything."

He took her hand from his mouth and gently, so gently it brought up the tears she'd been fighting down, kissed her knuckles. "I won't," he said. "Only because I don't have to. We're not finished yet. And I think you know it."

Then he was gone.

5

After their middle of the night run-in, Mike slept poorly, haunted by visions of his new commander and her cool, cool eyes and even cooler voice.

Damn it, where had all that iciness come from? And why had she refused to acknowledge him and their night together, if only between them? Try as he might to make sense of it, he couldn't.

He understood the obvious. She was ashamed of what they'd shared. But why did that hurt?

As for how he felt, he was having a hard time reconciling the woman he'd held all night in his arms-the woman who'd showed him such passion and hunger-with the cool cucumber he'd been introduced to today.

Giving up on sleep, he got out of bed before dawn, still feeling insulted and angry, whether that was rational or not. With hours to spare before he had to be on site, he paced his room.

Damn it, he'd wanted this opportunity, had worked for it for years. He wouldn't let her ruin it.

He knew how he was going to spend the day- hell, probably the next week. He'd be in the water tank. It would be tedious, time consuming and restricting; they'd be in full scuba gear.

He couldn't wait, but first he had to get rid of some of this restless energy. He could hit the weight room or take a swim, but as he'd be spending every waking moment in the water for the foreseeable future, he decided to run.

Mike had left his room and was walking down the hall when Jimmy's head appeared outside his own door. Looking rumpled and tired, Jimmy took one look at Mike's running gear before he groaned. "Perfect. You're going to make us all look bad for the-" he glanced right, then left, then lowered his voice to a conspirator's whisper "-Ice Queen."

"Who?"

Frank stuck his head out another door, a fierce frown on his face. When he saw Mike and Jimmy, he grinned sleepily. "Hey, just like old times. You're going running? Wait for me-"

"No," Jimmy said quickly, but Frank had already disappeared back into his room. Jimmy sighed. "Damn it, now I'll have to come, too, just to keep the two of you in line."

"Wait," Mike said. "About this Ice Queen thing-" But Jimmy had already shut the door in Mike's face.

He'd wanted to be alone, to burn off this undeniable, restless energy and to think, but he was destined for company now. Maybe that was for the better. Maybe he could stop thinking and just try to enjoy.

Frank and Jimmy were both dressed and ready to run within two minutes, and just as all three men started down the hallway together, yet another door opened.

Dressed in loose running shorts, a baggy tank top and aviator sunglasses that completely blocked her eyes from view, the commander herself emerged. She saw Jimmy and Frank first, both of whom happened to be standing in front of Mike, and she smiled. "Hey, guys. Up for some company?"

Then Mike stepped out from behind them. For lack of a better greeting, he lifted his hand and wagged his fingers at her.

Her expression froze. "Hello," she said flatly.

Hello. That was all she could manage. Not I'm sorry I'm ignoring you. Not I didn't mean to deal you the biggest shock of your life. Not Wow, just the other night you made me come half a dozen times. Can you do it again?

Instead she looked through him, as if only thirty hours ago he hadn't had her every which way but Sunday.

Frank hitched his head toward Mike. "We dragged his lazy butt out of bed, Commander. We're forcing him to run this morning so he can be in as good a shape as you."

Jimmy jumped right in. "He didn't want to come, ma'am. You should have heard all the new words he taught us, even though we asked him nicely."