She rejected the beckoning peace, fought to hang on to life. Mikhail's life. She wanted to brush her fingertips over the lines of strain she knew would be around his mouth. She wanted to ease his guilt and rage, assure him that everything had been her own choice. His love, total, uncompromising, unconditional, endless, was almost more than she could cope with. Most of all she was aware of the strange changes taking place in her body. None of it touched her, wrapped tightly, protectively, in the cocoon of Mikhail's love. He breathed, she breathed. His heart beat, her heart beat. csitri--