Silver Linings

dreams in which there had been no way out.
    She'd had enough psychology in college to understand those dreams. They had been manifestations of the anxiety and pressure she had felt during her childhood to find an acceptable niche in a family that considered lack of artistic talent a severe handicap.
    The dreams of being caught in an endless tunnel had become less frequent after she had gone off to college. She rarely had them at all these days, but they had left their legacy in the form of her claustrophobia.
    Mattie followed Hugh past several dark, gaping mouths that led into other twisting corridors. Her skin crawled as waves of fear moved over her, but Hugh never hesitated, never seemed uncertain. He just kept moving forward like a wolf at home in the shadows. Every so often he paused only to check for a small mark on the cavern wall.
    Mattie concentrated on the circle of light cast by the flashlight and tried to picture the view of Elliott Bay she enjoyed from the window of her apartment in Seattle. During meditation training she had learned to summon up such serene pictures in order to quiet her mind.
    The walk through the winding lava corridors was the longest walk of her life. Once or twice she felt large, wriggling things go crunch underfoot, and she wanted to be sick again. Every ten steps she nearly gave in to the urge to scream and run blindly back the way she had come. Every eleven steps she took more deep breaths, repeated her mantra, and forced herself to focus on the moving beam of light and the strong back of the man who was leading her through the caves of Purgatory.
    She resented Hugh with the deep passion a woman can only feel for a man who has rejected her, but she also knew that she could trust him with her life. If anyone could get her out of here, he could.
    “Mattie?”
    “What?”
    “Still with me, babe?”
    “Please don't call me babe.”
    “We're almost there. Smell the sea?”
    With a start Mattie realized she was inhaling brinescented fresh air. “Yes,” she whispered. “I do smell it.”
    She concentrated on that reassuring rush of fresh air as she followed Hugh around another bend in the corridor. Not long now, she told herself. Hugh would lead her through this. He would get her out of here. He was a bastard, but he was very good at what he did and one of the things he did best was survive. Aunt Charlotte had always said so. But, then, Aunt Charlotte was biased. She had always liked Hugh.
    Mattie bit back another scream as the corridor briefly narrowed even further. Her pulse pounded, but the scent of the sea grew stronger. The corridor widened once more, and she inhaled sharply again.
    “Here we go. Paul always knew what he was doing.” Hugh quickened his own pace.
    Mattie remembered Paul Cormier lying on the white marble floor. “Almost always.”
    “Yeah. Almost always.”
    “Did you know him well, Hugh?”
    “Cormier and I went back a long way.”
    “I'm sorry.”
    “So am I.” Hugh came to a halt as the passageway abruptly ended in a wide, high-ceilinged cavern.
    Relief washed over Mattie as she realized she could see daylight at the far end of the huge cavern. She was safe. Hugh had led her out of the terrible dream.
    She dropped her purse and the string bag and hurled herself into his arms.
    “Oh, God, Hugh.”
    “Hey, what's this all about?” Hugh chuckled softly as he let his sack drop to the floor. His arms closed around Mattie with a warm fierceness. “Not that I'm complaining.”
    “I wasn't sure I could stand it,” she whispered into his khaki shirt. She could feel the gun in his belt pressing into her side and smell the masculine scent of his body. There was something very reassuring about both. “Halfway through that awful tunnel I was sure I would go crazy.”
    “Hell, you're claustrophobic, aren't you?” His hands moved in her wet hair.
    “A bit.” She kept her face buried against his shoulder. He felt solid and strong and she wanted to cry. She had only been held this close to him once before, but her body remembered the heat and power in him as if it had been yesterday.
    “More than a bit. Jesus, I'm sorry, babe. Didn't realize it was going to be that bad for you. You should have said something.”
    “I did. You said there wasn't any choice.”
    He groaned, his hand tightening around the nape of her neck. He dropped a kiss into her hair. “There wasn't.”
    He framed her face with his big palms, lifted her chin, and brought his mouth