Melt

by Natalie Anderson

  She found him fixing some shelving in one of the storerooms.

  “You’re still working?” He’d been up through the night and all day? He had to be shattered.

  He stretched and then dropped his arms and stared at her, his blue eyes looking more intense than ever. “Just finished.”

  With a sudden movement, he pulled off his paint-splattered tee, revealing that muscled torso, the lightly tanned skin, and dusting of hair.

  Speechless, Emma just stared. He was even more impressive half naked than she remembered him from that day they’d been kitted out. More impressive than any flesh-and-blood man ought to be.

  “Not a lot more I can do until this glue is dry,” he said.

  She nodded.

  “You got any ideas of what I should do?” He took a step closer.

  She shook her head.

  “We could act out one of those scenes in those books you’re so fond of reading.”

  That brought her voice back. “I knew you’d read it,” she accused, heat rushing to her cheeks.

  He didn’t look remotely abashed. “It was irresistible.”

  “Lots of things are irresistible for you, aren’t they?”

  “The thrilling things, absolutely.” He took yet another step closer. “And I think one of those scenes with you could be very thrilling.”

  Emma smiled. “Well we could, but it might be a bit too much of a challenge.”

  Hunter looked affronted. “I’m up for any kind of challenge.”

  “Yeah?” Emma took the last step forward to meet him, letting her hips sway in an exaggerated motion. “How good are you at shifting into panther form after you’ve done the deed?”

  He blinked.

  “I’m really looking forward to seeing how you’re going to manage that,” she teased.

  “Neither of us will be shifting anything,” he drawled back. “We’ll be too exhausted.”

  “Oh, really?”

  He nodded slowly. “You won’t even be able to lift a paintbrush.”

  “Better not do it, then.” She lifted her shoulders. “Given the reason I’m here is to wield that paintbrush.”

  “You’re such a chicken,” he taunted.

  “Don’t start with the once-in-a-lifetime thing. The whole ‘it’ll be just for fun’ argument. I’m not going to sleep with you.” But she might manage a little something.

  He didn’t miss a beat. “I didn’t say anything about sleeping.” He held up his hands, immediately surrendering, laughing at the instant-death look she gave him. “Yeah, that was lame.”

  “It was.” But how could she resist—he looked so damn delicious when he laughed like that.

  His amusement softened as he watched her as closely as she was him—as relentless…seeking out the signals, sending them. “Okay, so we’re not having sex.” His words whispered over her skin. “But what about another kiss?”

  She couldn’t break the spell, couldn’t resist the temptation in his eyes.

  “No harm in just a kiss, is there?” he murmured.

  There’d been harm from that first already—there’d been sleepless nights and a merciless ache. “You’re such a guy,” she said, falling on her weakest argument. “Can’t think about anything else.”

  “Yes, I am a guy and right now… Nope, can’t think of another thing. I’d prefer it if I could, but that’s why I’m trying to deal with it.”

  “This is dealing with it?”

  “No, this is preliminary negotiations.”

  “I’m not negotiating.”

  “I think I can get you to the table.”

  Emma swallowed. “No to the table.” Despite the swallow, it still came out hoarse.

  He chuckled. “You’re such a liar.”

  “Am not.”

  “You’re kidding yourself that you don’t feel this.”

  “Of course I feel it. That doesn’t mean I’m going to act on it.”

  “Not all the way, but why not another kiss? It might be really bad this time—we might bump noses or knock teeth. We might not feel anything.”

  As if. She was feeling it already and this time the guy was half naked.

  “If I kiss you, will you shut up and go away?” The fire was burning through her veins now. She wasn’t completely crazy—she had one night left. This might be her last chance to kiss him.

  “There we are,” he whispered. “At the table already.”

  “Will you shut up and go away?” she persisted.

  “You shut up,” he breathed.

  His hands were on her hips, drawing her closer. The laughter in his eyes made it impossible to resist. Oh, he was wicked.

  “And you’re the one going away.” He threw the sucker punch.

  “Tomorrow.” She tilted her head back so she could keep looking into his beautiful eyes.

  “Which leaves one night.” He brought his mouth within a whisper of hers.

  “One kiss.”

  She closed her eyes as his lips softly skimmed hers. She opened to meet him—one, two soft brushes of lip to lip. But this was no kiss. This was enchantment. This was him hurtling her down a path from which she’d never return. Never want to return.

  Different from easy lust, from an easy thrill—this was naked, endless passion.

  Already, she couldn’t think. There was only the feel of him. She ran her hands from his shoulders down his arms. Strong arms, used to physical work. And then the hot, gloriously bare skin of his chest. Her fingertips sizzled as she explored the hard, fine strength of him.

  She leaned forward, and he took her invitation. Tightening his arms, pulling her closer. He took a step, pinning her against the wall. The weight of him pressing into her was glorious.

  Between kisses, she murmured, “This is you liberating me?”

  “Hell yes.” He nipped down the side of her neck until she shivered. “Now be quiet.”

  Being quiet wasn’t going to be easy. She wanted to moan. She wanted to call to him. But she was too breathless.

  She got his attention back to her hungry mouth by pulling on his hair. Tugging hard.

  His expression went wolfish. “Be careful what you ask for,” he growled.

  “Just the kiss.”

  He slid his hand to her breast, teasing her nipple with firm fingers. A low sound of amusement at the quiver in her voice. “Sure, just the kiss.”

  She leaned forward and smothered his laughter with her lips. His clung and dominated in a second. Yes, he liked to lead a kiss.

  But she was hungry. She sucked on his tongue as he explored her mouth. Primal need rippled powerfully within her. The drive to reach for release with him inside her became her only goal. She wanted his ultimate possession. She writhed against him, her instincts working to unleash his. To make it as necessary for him as it already was to her that they finish what had been started.

  Any notion of stopping after just one kiss had long since left her.

  She arched, pushing her hips toward his. In response, he pressed his whole length against her—moving with hard, forceful thrusts. She knew then that she’d get what she wanted, and she pulled back from the kiss and smiled at him.

  She heard his sharp intake of breath, the mutter of something she didn’t catch. He was shaking his head back and forth, and her breath caught. He wouldn’t stop now, would he? She smacked her hand flat on his hot skin. Beneath his rapidly rising and falling chest, his heart slammed. His hips remained locked against hers. His gaze equally imprisoned. Both his and her pulses roared in her ears. Final resistance faded. As if he couldn’t fight it any more than she, he bent and kissed her again.

  So much pleasure. She moaned as he teased her—with one hand at her breast, the other on her hip—sweeping over the curve of her butt. She rotated, frustrated because she couldn’t part her legs as wide as she wanted, because she was clothed, because he wasn’t there already. Damn it, she wanted to lie down and have him mount her like they were animals in a frenzy.

  Oh yeah, it was
all animal now.

  She caught his grin and knew he understood her want and was amused. She grabbed his hair and pulled his mouth back to hers, kissing him utterly, carnally—doing to his mouth what she wanted his body to do to hers. Taking him hard and deep and relentlessly.

  His hand moved between them, rubbing that little bit rougher, and she nearly lost it then and there, jeans and all. He pushed her harder against the wall, demanding, seeking the signs of her willingness.

  She was more than willing. She pushed right back—using the wall as leverage to arch her breasts and pelvis into him, circling her hips against his hot erection.

  His hand worked at the fastening of her jeans as she nipped at his lips. Yes, she wanted him to touch her there, bare. She wanted—

  “Hunter, can we borrow you? Oh, sorry.”

  Whoever it was who’d walked in coughed and said “um” a couple of times.

  Emma froze in place, hoping Hunter mostly hid her. Their eyes met for a moment—his were wildly blue. She watched him draw a couple of controlled breaths and give her a little nod.

  “Sure, that’s fine. Be there in a sec.” He slowly eased back, taking a deep, steadying breath, and grabbed his tee from the floor and yanked it back on. “What do you need?” he called over his shoulder, using the time to adjust his jeans. He pulled his shirt low enough to hide the proof that he’d wanted her as much as she him. With a final hard look at Emma, he turned and walked to the door where the other guy waited.

  “Your engineering brain.” The guy was out in the corridor already. “There’s a problem in one of the pump stations.”

  “Okay, I’ll be right there.”

  Still using the wall to help her stand, Emma couldn’t move. At the doorway, Hunter turned and looked at her for a heart-stopping micro-moment.

  “Catch you later,” he said.

  Emma got his double meaning and nodded. Seemingly satisfied with her response, Hunter left.

  She stood in that room for a good five minutes after they’d gone. It took that long for her breathing to stabilize—and for her to control the searing disappointment that threatened her equilibrium more.

  So now she knew. One kiss had her begging for everything—for more than he or anyone else would ever want to give her.

  Her pulse slowed, and intrinsic self-preservation instincts flared back into place right beneath her skin. This couldn’t go any further or she’d be crushed.

  Anger filled the void as desire fled. She fixed her clothes and wondered what job it was he’d gone to with his engineering brain. She’d suspected he wasn’t a builder full-time—he’d all but admitted it when he’d said he was one of those who’d do whatever to get a trip to the ice and engineering made sense. But she’d had to learn that from a snatch of conversation? From a stranger?

  Hunter might flirt like a professional, but he was more isolated than the Antarctic pole of inaccessibility—the most remote, most challenging place to reach on this continent. Yeah, that was Hunter. And she shouldn’t have nodded to him. Better for her to clean up and satisfy a completely different hunger. She was starving. She’d go comfort eat.

  In the mess, she sat with Lily and focused on the pile of food in front of her.

  “You know, Hunter didn’t mix with anyone when he was here last summer, and he was on the ice for four months,” Lily said.

  “Really?” Emma tried not to sound too fascinated—and failed.

  Lily shook her head. “Not his style. Not until this summer. Of course, a ton of women at the big base tried to persuade him…” She giggled but broke off and reached out to touch Emma’s sleeve. “Shame you’re leaving tomorrow. You’re going to miss the Christmas dinner.”

  “I have family I need to get back to,” Emma explained. She badly wanted to get back to see Grandma Bea—and there was another reason she needed to get away from here now. That tall, blue-eyed, handsome man who made her smile so easily.

  But now Lily’s observation circled around her head like a plane attempting to drop vital supplies. She pushed her plate away. Was he really not such a super stud? Actually, she could believe it. She’d seen him move closer to her when other women came near him in the mess or in the bar. He’d used her to deflect their attention. And he’d been the one to step back fully despite the flirt winks and tease talk.

  So maybe he truly didn’t want to mess around down here? And yet there was no denying the way they’d combusted in the storeroom earlier. She shivered at the memory now branded in her brain. Yes, she wanted him—big time.

  The aching need in her body and the fear in her soul threatened to tear her in two. She waivered with her decision again. And wanted to see him.

  But Hunter didn’t reappear in the lounge at all that evening. Seconds, minutes, hours ticked by, until she was completely strung out.

  She headed to her bunkroom. It was too late. He’d probably gone to bed, and she could hardly bang on his door and wake his bunkroom buddy. She couldn’t drag him to one of those lockable saunas, either. It was probably for the best. Of course it was.

  That didn’t help the ache any.

  She pushed back the curtain and lay in her bunk, looking out the window, so sorry her time here was at an end. Totally regretting not diving into bed with him from the first night. She knew she’d read the earlier question in his eyes right. But he, too, must have changed his mind.

  What a fool she’d been.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  EMMA WOKE, disoriented and jaded. Bright light wasn’t shining through the window and for a second she thought she must have closed the curtain. But she hadn’t. She blinked as she looked through the glass, hoping that blinding glare would return. It didn’t. It was just a dim white out there—she couldn’t even see the building next door. And then there was the noise.

  She sat up in a rush, suddenly realizing what that meant. She threw on her clothes and ran to find someone—knowing the mess would be the most likely place to find people at this hour.

  And he was there. He put his toast down and came straight over to her. “I’m sorry.”

  “That wind?”

  “Really bad storm.” He nodded. “Apparently they weren’t expecting it so soon, but this is Antarctica, you know?”

  Yeah. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

  “No flights today.” His face creased into a concerned look. “And there’re none tomorrow. The earliest you’re getting out is Boxing Day.”

  She wasn’t going to be with Grandma Bea. “Oh no.”

  He put his arm around her shoulders and drew her close. “You really wanted to be with her this Christmas.”

  “She’s getting old.” And she was the only family Emma had. “I’m not like you; I don’t want to be isolated at Christmas. I don’t want her to be isolated.”

  His arm dropped. “I’m really sorry.”

  Any other time and she’d be thrilled to have an extra couple of days down here, but she owed that woman her life. Grandma Bea had saved her from hitting the skids so many times and now she was old and alone? At Christmas? The woman who’d devoted so much of her life to helping kids? That just wasn’t right.

  “Can you call her?” Hunter asked when he came into the lounge at coffee time.

  “I already have. She laughed about it and said not to worry.” Emma didn’t move from the chair she was curled up in. Typical Grandma Bea—hardy and independent—but Emma hated to let her down, hated to think of her alone. Bea had been a short-term foster parent—taking in kids for only a few days at times of emergency. Most of the kids she’d helped probably wouldn’t even remember the two or three nights they’d stayed with her.

  It had only been because no one else would take her that Emma had gone to her in the first place. Once she got there, Emma had refused to leave. Bea had let her stay. She was the only person who’d shown Emma that kind of caring.

  “Does she have someone else to check in on her?”

  Emma nodded. “She said Ashe had been round.”

/>   “Well, that’s something, I guess.”

  She nodded halfheartedly.

  “You know they have the big Christmas dinner tonight, instead of tomorrow?”

  She nodded with even less enthusiasm. “I don’t want to go.” Stupid as it was, she didn’t want to celebrate Christmas with strangers. She’d had to do that in the past when she’d gone through her foster home phase before Grandma Bea’s. “I don’t have anything to wear.”

  “They have the craziest dress-up box here. Just borrow something. Lily will help you.”

  “Maybe I could help her in the kitchen?” Emma suddenly sat up. “I could do the dishes or something, and Lily could have the night off?”

  He studied her with a serious expression. “I’m on kitchen detail. I volunteered as soon as we got here. So you’d have to work some more with me. That okay with you?”

  Emma’s blood drummed as she pretended to think about it. “I guess I can put up with it.” She couldn’t hold back a slight smile. “You really don’t like Christmas, do you?”

  He just shook his head.

  …

  She ended up helping out in the kitchen most of the morning. Her path crossed Hunter’s a few times, but she sensed a guarded aura emanating from him. Surely he didn’t regret what had happened last night?

  But at late coffee time, he found her and she took the chance to ask some of the questions she’d chosen to avoid until now. Because now she knew there was no point trying to fight her interest in him. That battle was totally lost.

  “You’re not really a carpenter.” She took a sip of the steaming brew.

  “I know my way around a tool box.”

  “Yeah, but you’re something else.”

  “Civil engineer,” he admitted with a nod.

  “Whereabouts?”

  “Wherever I’m needed.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means I go from project to project. I go into disaster zones when they hit the reconstruction phase.”

  Disaster zones?