He slapped his arm over, then hooked his knee, vaulting up and out. Looping his arms around Sara, he rolled away from the tunnel along the soft jungle floor, the ground above the passageway sinking until the opening sealed with a final poof of dirt.
They slammed to a stop against a bush, showering petals over them.
Panting for air, she wrapped her arm tighter around him. "What do we do now?"
"This."
He angled over and kissed her, hard, nothing gentle about the way he was feeling at the moment. After only an instant of surprised hesitation, she gave equal measure. Open mouths, emotions, passions.
The sky opened, as well, overhead, rain tapping through the trees, drenching them as they lay in the small clearing. Her arms locked around his shoulders and held, even when he rested his face in her neck. Water slicked her face, soaking their clothes, sealing them together as if nature echoed their commitment.
And wasn't that a sappy thought for a crusty old aviator like himself? More of Sara's whimsical influence.
She shook in his arms. Ah damn. He flipped from her onto his side. "Sara? Are you okay?"
"Uh-huh," came her muffled answer as she laughed.
Laughed? "I'm fine. Completely fine and alive and yes, I am probably verging on hysteria, but that's all right because we are alive."
"Yeah, we sure are." He plucked a soggy flower from her luscious hair, glistening even darker when wet.
"What do we do now?"
"We wait. I was also telling the truth in there about the troops looking for you." He cocked his head into the wind. "If you listen closely, you can even hear the approaching helicopter. They'll be able to spot us in this clearing without any problem—far safer than plunging into the jungle at night."
She tipped her face skyward. "I think I do... Yes, I hear it."
"We only have a few more minutes alone so I'd better talk fast."
He wished he'd prepared the perfect speech to win over this woman of linguistic nuances. But he hadn't. So he spoke from his heart that, thanks to Sara, he couldn't deny having any longer.
"I've said more than once that I'm a loner by nature and that's still somewhat true, but even a loner has a mate. We're already married, so that question is moot. But I want to ask you to be my wife, my lover, my partner. My friend."
His hand slid to her stomach where that amazing kid of theirs had grown. "You're already the mother of my child, but I also hope you'll be the mother of our children, if your health permits. And if not we'll adopt, because I want to build a family and a life with you so very much."
She blinked fast, tears mingling with the raindrops. "Si."
"Si? Yes?"
This lady of languages had only one word to offer?
She nodded, the chop, chop, chop of helicopter blades growing louder. Almost as loud as his heartbeat in his ears.
"That's all you have to say to the biggest outpouring of my whole life? Yes? To what?"
"To everything." She angled up to press her mouth to his, fingers tracing his shoulders up to his overly sensitive neck. "Yes, I want to be your wife, lover, partner, friend." She punctuated each of the last four words with a kiss. "I will gladly be the mother of as many children as we can have, and yes again. I can have more babies as long as I'm careful and monitored. So again, I'll say simply, si."
The MH-53 Pave Low helicopter roared overhead, bringing the conversation to an end. But they had forever.
"Si." He hooked one arm around his wife's waist and stood, raising his other hand skyward to gesture to the hovering crew.
A spotlight strobed over them, loudspeaker squawking from above before a voice from above filled the air. "Hang in there, Colonel. We're on our way."
His arm still locked around Sara as firmly as hers locked around him, Lucas backed toward the line of trees to clear the landing patch for the descending Pave Low.
Sara rested her head on his shoulder. "Hey, Chuck?"
"Chuck?"