As if she’d asked aloud, her tall companion just ahead of her turned and smiled—not a suggestive smile, not a teasing one, just one of pure, unadulterated happiness. The almost-dimple became real in that whole-body smile. She couldn’t tear her gaze from him. Happiness bubbled up inside her, responding to the sheer joy on his face, and she smiled back. Her heart let off some fireworks, and she laughed aloud. The wind swiftly stole the sound.
“Come on,” one of the welcome crew yelled in her ear. “Move!”
Emma pulled her scattered wits together and followed them into the all-terrain bus bound for the base. As she entered, the guy inside checked her name off on his clipboard.
No one sat next to her, and for the entire drive, she had her nose pressed to the window, trying to make out things in the almost total white. The only thing she got glimpses of was the road markers. When they drove into the American base, she expected the gorgeous flirt to get off, but he didn’t. Was he staying at the same base she was?
Her info pack had said her destination was only another five or so minutes from the US base, and soon enough a collection of lime-green buildings came into view.
The excitement as they exited the bus was palpable. Base staff met them and waved everyone inside, instructing them to put their extreme weather gear on the hooks, their boots on racks. Then it was debrief time. Emma put her fingers to her face, her skin frozen to the touch and yet she hadn’t noticed, too busy trying to take in the reality of the landscape.
“Exciting arrival for you guys,” the base boss welcomed with a laugh. “We’ll get you all a drink after I show you round.”
He motioned for everyone to follow him as he took them on the grand tour. A small civilian base, its purpose was scientific research and it was wholly conservation-oriented—while they aimed to discover the unique properties within Antarctica, the ultimate goal was to preserve them.
The facilities were rudimentary but in great condition. The main congregation areas were in the one building—the mess, a bar, a small store selling personal items and chocolate, as well as a tiny library and a communications area. In outlying buildings were the dormitory wing and laboratories, storerooms, and workrooms.
Emma intently listened to their first safety briefing—there’d be in-depth training starting tomorrow. For now, she dutifully looked out the windows and noted the different colored flags marking paths, base boundaries, and no-go areas.
She glanced around the room—inside the warm mess hall it seemed a small, safe community, but they were perched on the edge of the most unforgiving environment.
She pulled out her sketchbook and chewed on the end of her pencil between taking some notes and a couple of quick sketches. Then she was handed an updated timetable and given directions to her bunkroom. A final glance back saw the gorgeous American heading in the opposite direction. She ignored the tiny disappointed tug deep inside. It was good he was gone, since she didn’t need either distraction or temptation. She was here to work.
Finding the right bunkroom, Emma knocked quietly before going inside. She’d just learned the rooms were kept in darkness around the clock, and you had to keep quiet as some people worked shift hours—up all night and sleeping all day. Inevitably, there’d be someone trying to sleep in the building.
“I’m Bridget, been here since November.” A woman leaned over from the top bunk, introducing herself softly. “My fourth summer down here. You okay with the bottom bunk?”
“Sure.” Emma smiled back. “I’m used to sharing a room.” Tons of other kids had stayed at Grandma Bea’s—but only ever for a few days. Emma was the only one who’d stayed more than a month.
“Lucky for you you’re not going to have to share much this week,” said Bridget. “I’m going out in the field for a couple of weeks, so you’ll have it to yourself. But don’t brag about it to the others or they’ll get jealous.”
“You’re a scientist?”
Bridget nodded. “A glaciologist.”
“What does a glaciologist do?”
As she unpacked her daypack, Emma asked Bridget about her work and life on the base. In turn Bridget asked her all about her trip down—it was that common denominator they had, drawing strangers close in an instant. Emma felt both proud and totally daunted as she explained her project. One of New Zealand’s wealthiest philanthropists had donated wads of cash for a new research lab to be built on the base. Part of his gift was for a mural to be painted on the vestibule wall—a reminder of home for the scientists. The commissioned artist was to then paint a matching mural back at his building in Christchurch after completing the one down here—to reflect life on the ice. There’d been a call for submissions and somehow, Emma’s work had been chosen. She’d entered only on the off chance—it was a place she’d longed to visit and the contest had given her a theme and deadline for producing some work. They’d actually liked her fine, detailed pencil work. She was a hyperrealist, not an abstract artist. She liked to magnify the miniscule, drawing attention to the beauty in the tiny things the eye could so easily miss—the contradiction of that with the mural format would be her biggest challenge ever.
She breathed deeply. Yes, now here she was amongst all these amazing people who achieved amazing things. No pressure at all.
Once unpacked, she walked down to the communications area and tried to call Grandma Bea to let her know she’d landed safely, but her old foster mother never answered.
Frowning, Emma wandered through the mess down the stairs to the small lounge and library area, lingering for a moment until she realized that the people on the sofa nearest her were engaged in a very serious—and deeply personal—conversation about a relationship gone wrong. One had been on the plane with her, the other she didn’t recognize. But they didn’t seem to mind that she, a complete stranger, was in a total eavesdropping position.
She walked to the other end of the library to escape overhearing. She barely noticed the wall of books, as the window claimed all her attention—the view was mind-blowing.
The wind had dropped, the snow had settled on the ground again, and now the sky was blue. She looked across the endless expanse of white ice. Mount Erebus dominated the scene, apparently still active because plumes of steam rose occasionally, reminding them this was a land not just of ice, but fire, too. In fact, fire was a very real threat to the inhabitants. She’d be learning more about how to deal with that tomorrow.
“My name’s Hunter Wilson,” a voice murmured in her ear. “I’m a project manager here for the rest of the summer, and it’s my second season on the ice.”
Casual again in jeans and tee with a hint of stubble and those smiling eyes, he left her as speechless as she’d been on that crazy descent onto the ice.
“Come on, aren’t you going to do the ritual intro?” he prompted. “You’ll get asked a lot, so you might as well get it perfect now.”
“Emma Reed, painter, first time. Only until Christmas Eve.”
“Really nice to see you again, Emma. Hell of a landing, wasn’t it?”
“It was,” she admitted with a rueful smile.
“Met your bunkroom buddy?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Is she a beaker?”
“A what?”
“A scientist. A beaker.”
“Yes, she is.” Emma laughed. “Is that what they’re called?”
He nodded, that smile dancing in his eyes again. “There’s a whole other language down here. You’ll pick it up quickly.”
“Give me some more examples.” Intrigued, she turned to face him.
“Okay, let’s see.” He thought about it. “Well, there are city mice and country mice. City are those stuck at base, country are those out in field camps.”
“Got it. I’m a city mouse mostly.”
“Me, too, but we get to go out at night if we want. That’s the good thing about the sun.” He turned to stare at the view beyond. “Intense, isn’t it?”
“The whole place is,” Emma agreed.
“Strangers telling their most intimate secrets within earshot of anybody,” she whispered, inclining her head to the couple lounging on the sofa.
“It’s like some science experiment all of its own,” he joked. “Never mind the actual science projects that most of them are here for.”
“Like a reality TV show?” she asked.
“Exactly,” he said. “With an interesting mix of people. ‘Big Brother’ all the way.”
She glanced about. “Where do you think the hidden cameras are?”
“Actually, there are a couple,” he said.
“Really?”
He laughed at her expression. “You know there’s a live webcam on the base website, right? On the corner of that building over there.” He pointed to one of the outbuildings.
“Got it.”
“So what’s your bunkroom like?”
“That’s subtle,” she mock drawled. “You’re wanting an invitation?”
“Well, now that you mention it…” He winked.
She shook her head slowly. She recognized the deliberate provocation, but she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of snapping. “Not going to happen.”
“I’ve already been briefed on where all the lockable bathrooms are. And saunas.”
“Already?” They’d only been on the ice a couple of hours.
“You mean you haven’t?”
She shook her head mock-woefully.
“Come on.” He grabbed her hand. “Follow me.”
His grip was firm and his palm swallowed her fingers. He led her a few paces along the corridor, turning into a narrow doorway.
“You’re taking me into a bathroom?” Okay, now this was dodgy.
But he just laughed and opened the cupboard beneath the sink. “See this?”
The blush burned through her skin. Staring at the large plastic container filled to the brim with square foil packets, she wished she had her balaclava and goggles to hide her heated reaction. “And your point?”
“You know they ship almost twenty thousand of these to the base at the start of each summer?”
“Do they?” she asked faintly. Why on earth would they need twenty thousand condoms?
“They leave them here for free where anyone can grab them and not have to buy them and be embarrassed. They don’t want any unexpected arrivals.” He winked again.
Emma bit the inside of her cheek to stop her laughter. Seriously, the guy needed to control his outrageous mouth and lock up his arsenal of babe-magnet moves. Risqué comment closely followed by the wink, dimple, and slayer smile? If he weren’t so damn handsome, he’d never get away with it.
“I guess people need something to entertain themselves during those long, long winter days,” she said, trying to play it cool.
“Not to mention those endless summer nights.” He waggled his brows at her. “People like to have fun here, you know?” He led her back out to the lounge and kept up the tease. “But if you didn’t want to use your share of those little items, you could join the three-hundred club.”
“What would I have to do to join that?” she asked warily.
He laughed at her expression. “You need to go through three hundred degrees Fahrenheit. You do that by boiling up in the sauna for a while, then rolling naked outside in the ice on a particularly cold day, and then going back to the sauna.”
“Naked rolling on the ice?” She shook her head. “I can’t see that happening.”
“No?” He shrugged. “Pity.”
“Are you a member?” she couldn’t resist asking.
He just smiled. “Come on, I’m starving.”
…
Their first meal was a mouth-flaming chili served with rice and vegetables and followed by apple crumble. Hunter sat at one of the long tables a few chairs away from Emma, but he kept a vague eye on her as she quietly introduced herself to the others seated among them. Nice people—a mix of beakers and support staff and a few media types—he chatted away, sharing common tales of Antarctic life and reliving that horrific landing with laughter. Years of itinerant overseas projects, of meeting many new people and having to work with them in close, stressful quarters, had made him an expert in sharing enough and holding back what he didn’t have to give.
Not long after dinner, Hunter rose when he saw Emma slipping toward the door.
He caught up to her. “You’re not going to stay and socialize a little?”
“I need to get some things prepared.”
“That’s very conscientious of you,” he said lightly.
“That’s because I don’t have long to get my work done here.”
“Yeah, but you know they stock really nice beer in the bar?” He wanted her to stop for a minute and enjoy the scene.
That got a good smile from her. “I’m sure they do, but I really need to do some work.”
Hunter frowned as she left the room. He was the first to work extra-long hours, but this was her first night on the ice… She didn’t want to stay and mingle with the other residents at all? She was too quiet, too reserved, only observing when she should be having even just a little fun. He wanted to show her some fun.
Her determined retreat bothered him more than it should. Why did he have this urge to chase her and bring her back to appreciate what she was missing? Hell, there were plenty of other women to talk to and tease in the base bar if he wanted. But it wasn’t merely the tease he liked. He wanted to know what was behind those walls she was building—and why. Worse, he wondered why it was only her laughing response that warmed him the way it did.
He glanced out the window at the bright white scene. A slow smile curved his mouth. Surely she was too smart to be able to resist that view for long.
…
Emma escaped the crowds, needing some alone time and knowing that five minutes in the bunkroom was probably all she was going to get, for tonight anyway.
She picked up her e-reader but soon discarded it for her sketchbook. She needed to get her head in gear for working hard over the coming days. But she couldn’t settle to that either with her blood zinging around her body like she’d had fifteen coffees in a single sitting. No way was sleep hitting anytime soon. How could it when she was in Antarctica and it was broad daylight in the middle of the night?
She pulled back the thick curtain and stared out the window until Bridget came in, eager for an early night, given she was going to the camp ultra early in the morning. Emma went back to the lounge so Bridget could sleep. She could at least keep her eyes on that amazing view—thanks to the unending light—and she figured most of the other residents would have gone to bed by now, too.
She walked back along the corridor, peeking out every window she passed. So busy absorbing the brilliant landscape she didn’t see the figure waiting at the door to the lounge until she was right next to him.
“I knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep.” Hunter grinned at her startled jump. “First night on the ice, first chance to experience midnight sun. Come on.” He jerked his head toward the view and started off down the corridor. It wasn’t any darker than when their plane had landed in the late afternoon. It was weird.
“We’re not allowed out, are we?” she whispered, half scandalized as she scurried to keep up with him.
“Not without our decent gear on.”
“No, I mean at all.”
“You’re allowed to go five paces down the path. In fact, once you’re done with your safety training, you can go hiking for miles around the recreation areas. Do you want to?”
Of course she wanted to. She was dying to get out there.
“Come on, put on your jacket.”
She put it all on—gloves, trousers, hat, big jacket—but not her goggles or her sunglasses. She wanted to see this world with bare eyes for a few minutes.
Stepping outside and breathing in the sharp air was a painful pleasure. She walked alongside him over the stomped snow path toward the boundary markers. He bent and scooped up some snow, flinging a ball in her dir
ection.
“I’m not play fighting with you.”
He looked like a little boy who’d been told he couldn’t have pudding. She ignored him and looked at the sky, unable to walk as she tried to take it in. It was indescribable. She closed her eyes, wanting to blink and blink to ensure it wasn’t a dream.
“You’re supposed to be looking at the view,” she heard him say. “Not standing there with your eyes shut.”
“I’d open them if I could.” She swiped her face with her gloves. “But my eyelashes have frozen together.”
“They what?” He laughed.
She raised her eyebrows and knew she’d be looking like some physical comedy act, given the way she was contorting her face to try to pry her eyelids open. She abandoned the facial stretches and rubbed her hands over her eyes again.
“You’re going to give yourself two black eyes if you keep doing that.” Footsteps crunched closer. “Let me help.”
It wasn’t like she had much choice. Shaking her head, hot from the combination of embarrassment and amusement, she waited.
His hands framed her face, tilting it up.
“Your gloves are wet and cold,” she half grumbled, covering up her mortification.
“Snowball,” he murmured.
Emma went still, because that’s when she felt it. The jet of warm air as he blew over first one, then the other eye. Very, very close, she could almost feel his mouth.
“I’m really glad I brushed my teeth already,” he joked. “So you don’t have to cope with a face full of chili breath.”
She laughed and her eyelids pinged open.
He was unbelievably close.
Still so much bigger than her, but he’d bent so his face was only inches from hers. His clear blue eyes filled with laughter and heat. More than her frosty eyelashes melted in that moment, as they stood too close for a little too long.
Emma forced herself to swallow. The first step in breaking the frozen minute. But all that faint movement did was draw his attention slightly farther south—to her mouth.
Melt Page 3
