by Robin Gianna
“I can’t wait to find out.” The damned breathlessness wouldn’t seem to go away, and she was glad to have the excuse of starting the first-aid class to put distance between them. “Thanks again for patching me up. Maybe during class I’ll show everyone my head and we’ll demonstrate closing and gluing a wound, too.”
“Gluing takes more skill than stitching, when it comes to emergency field treatment, though some don’t believe that.” His voice was a warm rumble, and she wondered if he realized the hand behind her head had brought her to within an inch of his broad chest. She realized it the second he’d done it, because being so close had her heart beating fast and her hand lifting to press against his chest, barely resisting the urge to slide it up around his neck and close the small gap between them.
“I guess we’ll stick with teaching stitching, then.”
Their gazes met and held, his hot and alive. His strong jaw, covered with dark stubble, looked taut, and his wide shoulders blocked the view of the people coming into the lobby, creating the illusion that they were still alone. Suddenly wanting, more than anything, to rise up on her toes and kiss that tempting mouth of his, to wrap her arms around his neck, foggily trying to remind herself of all the reasons she shouldn’t... But then he broke the mesmerizing connection. Dropped his hand from her head and stepped back.
His chest rose and fell. Noise from the other room got louder as more people arrived, talking and laughing, and still, neither of them moved. It felt like time had simply stopped as they stared at one another.
And then he turned away.
“Sounds like everyone’s ready to learn the basics, Dr. Flynn.”
She watched him walk out into the lobby, then managed to pull herself together to follow. Which was completely annoying, since she was the one teaching this class, and should have been the first in there, smiling and welcoming everyone. Time to get her act together and remember why she was here, which definitely wasn’t to make goo-goo eyes at a man who made his living researching and traveling, and was not someone she wanted to get personally involved with.
She hurried into the meeting room and greeted the crew, hoping her expression was relaxed and professional. Half the group was already seated at the table, picking up and examining the medical items in front of them, while the rest were still standing and chatting.
Her hyperawareness of Zeke’s tall form at the other end of the table was a distraction, but the interest the crew had in learning about the first-aid techniques made it easier to move her attention to teaching. Everyone there knew there might be times they were away from the station in the field and would need to know how to do basic emergency treatment, or an occasion when Jordan was in the field herself and someone would have to take over here at the Fletcher during an emergency. The two hours went by quickly, and the whole thing turned out to be fun, to Jordan’s surprise.
A big part of what made it fun? Ezekiel Edwards. His joking had everyone laughing at the same time they were learning. The man was not only knowledgeable, he seemed to have that perfect balance of knowing how to teach while keeping everyone engaged.
Just like he’d been there when she’d needed her scalp repaired, he’d been here for this, too. A man you could count on whenever you needed to. Having him as a partner for this training made it much less stressful and a lot more enjoyable, and the next important step was to convince her body and not just her brain that they needed to keep it strictly professional.
“Last is stitching a wound,” Jordan said to the group, holding up a needle and suture. “It’s really just like sewing, except you need to stop the bleeding the way we’ve already discussed, then clean the wound as best you can before you close it.”
“Remember this is a field technique, though, as there might be a better option if someone is injured here at the station,” Zeke said, seated between two people who were riveted by his every word. “Either Dr. Flynn or I will have derma glue on hand, which often can be used in place of stitching for smaller wounds. Especially scalp injuries, should your head make contact with a wall, or something.”
He sent her that teasing smile of his, and the secret little connection between the two of them about what had happened the first night they’d met made her belly feel all fluttery. Their eyes met, and she just couldn’t help but smile back, everyone else in the room seeming to fade into the background except for him.
She drew a breath and managed to turn away and focus on the crew. Ezekiel Edwards might be beyond appealing, but he was not irresistible. She could dive with him, and work with him, and still keep her heart firmly to herself. Work colleagues and simple friendship would be the goal.
* * *
The six-wheel van lumbered across the ice shelf, and Zeke hoped like hell that the dive would go smoothly without any kind of hitch. Having only two divers and one tender wasn’t the norm down here, but he’d done it before. So why did he feel this niggle of worry?
The answer was obvious. He wanted today’s dive to be a special experience for Jordan.
He glanced across the seat at her and wondered if the hum between the two of them as they drove was palpable even to Bob, who sat in the back seat. Then Zeke wondered if maybe it was all one-sided and he was imagining the connection between them. A connection, if it was real, that he shouldn’t encourage, anyway.
“I can’t believe how incredible it is out here,” Jordan said, turning to look at him. The awe on her face made him smile, though he’d known all along she was the kind of person who would appreciate this crazy southern world of intense blue sky; barren, snow-covered mountains and the slow ice melt over beautiful blue-green waters as much as he did.
“It is incredible. The way it changes from day to day, even hour to hour sometimes, is like nothing you’ve seen before.” He worked to keep his voice even and not warm and intimate, the way he couldn’t seem to help feeling toward her ever since they’d packed up in the hangar earlier. Since yesterday, working together in the clinic. Since the moment they’d met. “Wait until the hours-long sunsets. Crazy storms. And, if you’re lucky, the aurora australis—though that might not happen during your trip here. Once it’s twenty-four-hour daylight, in another week or so, it’ll be too late, and I don’t know how much solar activity there’s been lately to make them visible.”
“I so hope I get to see it. But even if that doesn’t happen, just being here is so much more amazing than I ever dreamed.”
He took in her shining, excited eyes and wide smile as she scanned the expanse of white in the clear air, the iceberg chunks floating far out in the water, the Adélie penguins waddling along in groups of over a hundred, and hoped she’d be just as pleased once they were actually diving.
“Was it you who placed all these flags along where we’re driving?” she asked. “I assume they mark the route?”
“Yeah,” Bob chimed in from the back seat. “Zeke and I spent a day getting the markers placed before he and a few burly engineer types came back to cut the dive holes. A couple trips ago, I learned how important it is, believe me.”
“What happened?”
“We were at a small station with a group that got the holes placed, but didn’t post flags. A nasty storm blew up and we couldn’t see a thing. Barely made it back. I thought for sure we were goners, our bodies about to be buried under the snow before being eaten by a leopard seal.”
“Bob is a little melodramatic, as you can tell. I always get the flags in first, so stop trying to scare her.” Zeke sent a frown back to Bob, not wanting him to worry Jordan. It was true that getting lost in a blizzard was no joke, and preparation was critical.
Also true that no matter where you were, Antarctica or anywhere else, if you didn’t plan for the worst-case scenario it could result in a tragedy you would never forget.
Zeke’s chest tightened, and he battled back the familiar and unwelcome anxiety that would come from nowhere and that was beginn
ing to well in his chest. Slow, calming breaths, in and out, usually pushed it away now, and he breathed and focused on the white road in front of him.
“How much farther to the dive hole?”
He turned to look at her, and seeing her beautiful face smiling and calm managed to help him relax, too. “See that speck of red in the distance? That’s a tent set on top of the closest hole we cut. As we get deeper into the summer we can usually do without the tent and leave it open. This early in the season, though, it helps protect us from cold wind and snow as we’re getting in and out of the water.”
“I admit it’s amazing to me that you dive here at all.”
“Are you feeling nervous about it?” He reached for her hand, wanting to show he was there for her. “You don’t have to go in. With both you and Bob as tenders, I’d be fine, especially if I stay fairly close to the hole.”
“No, I want to experience it. Test the earplugs. But I’ve heard people feel claustrophobic under the ice sometimes. A little worried about that, to be honest.”
“I don’t want you to worry.” He tightened his hold on her hand, and when she twined her fingers with his, his chest felt that strange expansion thing again. Hopefully, her holding on to him meant that she trusted him. “It’s not that common with experienced divers, which you are. But if it happens to you, just like in any other dive situation, it’s important not to panic. We’ll attach a rope to your weight belt, so if you get weirded out, you know you can always follow it back up.”
“I won’t need a rope.”
“Do you always try to act so big and tough and overconfident?” His heart jerked, wondering if she was going to pay attention to everything he said, or feel a need to show her independent self. If she did, he’d end the dive early, period. “Most divers here use ropes every time they go out, especially during midsummer, when the phytoplankton bloom and the water’s murky. It’s easy to be exploring and getting samples and not realize how far you’ve gone until you can’t figure out where, or what direction, the hole is. That’s when people freak, and bad stuff can happen.”
“I promised you I’d stay close to you, didn’t I?”
“You did. And I want you to keep that promise.”
“I promise I’ll keep my promise.”
She said the words in a light joking tone, and gifted him with a smile that stole his breath. He squeezed her hand before he had to let it go, stopping the vehicle next to the tent.
“Here we are. Ready?”
“Ready or not, here I come.”
“I haven’t been a tender on one of these trips for a while, Zeke, so you’ll have to remind me what to do with the equipment,” Bob said.
“Okay.” Since the whole reason they were here was to dive and get work started, and they needed a tender to do that, Zeke shouldn’t feel slightly resentful of Bob’s presence. He couldn’t seem to help that he did a little, anyway, wishing he and Jordan could enjoy being here together all alone, even though that made no sense at all. “I’ll explain as we get it set up by the dive hole.”
Zeke shoved open his door and went to the back of the van, with Jordan and Bob following. After getting everything inside the tent, he turned to Jordan to talk with her about what was necessary for cold-water diving, because it was crucially important she understood how different it was from whatever diving she’d done before.
“Getting the gear on right matters. First, the dry suit goes on over your long underwear, then a jumpsuit on top of that. So, let’s get it on you before we go to the next step.”
She took off her snowsuit, boots and thick pants, folding and stacking them in a pile on the ice, and Zeke couldn’t seem to keep from staring at her. He’d been on dozens and dozens of dives and never once had he thought of anything but work when everyone got their gear on, until today. That she could look so sexy in black long underwear that closely fitted her slender body had him imagining what she’d look like in scanty undies.
Or nothing at all.
Nearly groaning at the vision, he yanked his mind from where it had instantly gone, and held the dry suit open for her. “Step in, and I’ll help you get it on.”
“Remember I’ve dived many times in my life?” She reached for it instead of doing as he asked. “I know how to get on a wet suit.”
“Except this is a dry suit, and they’re even tighter so you stay well-insulated in the water. But suit yourself. Literally.”
“I always do,” she said with a grin.
He tried, again, to think only professional thoughts as he watched the way she shoved her feet into the tight legs, tugging them up her delectable body an inch at a time. Wiggling and wriggling. Huffing and puffing, until he and Bob both couldn’t control laughing just a little at her struggles.
“Another reason I don’t dive,” Bob said. “Way too much work before you even get in the water!”
“Well, sometimes it takes a little work to have a lot of fun,” she replied, sounding breathless from her exertion.
“Very true.” Zeke worked to get his on, too, but since he had the technique down pat, he’d already fastened his closed while hers was still twisted around her hips. “At this rate, the sun will be setting by the time you’re ready,” he said, cocking his head at her. “You going to let me help you or not?”
“Fine.” She threw up her arms, sounding exasperated. “But what happens on the ice stays on the ice, right? I don’t want anyone knowing I couldn’t do this on my own.”
“It’s our secret. And next time, you won’t have as much trouble, I’m sure.”
“While you finish, I’ll get the last tanks from the van,” Bob said before he disappeared from the tent.
Barely acknowledging Bob’s words, Zeke looked down into amused blue eyes. He loved that Jordan could poke fun at herself, despite that independent streak of hers that didn’t like asking for help with a dry suit she wasn’t familiar with. He reached for where the suit was currently squeezing her hips, curled his fingers inside the rubber clinging to her body and tugged it upward, feeling her firm waist and ribs as he did. Her eyes lifted to his again, and his breath backed up in his lungs.
Being alone with her in this tent, touching her body and standing so close he could hear her breathing, was doing all kinds of things to him that he couldn’t let happen. His gaze moved across the delicate shape of her face, her parted lips, her eyes staring up at him, and all he wanted to do was pull her into his arms and kiss her until neither of them could think.
He nearly did. He began to lower his face to hers, then gritted his teeth against the desire for her that pumped through his veins. He squeezed his eyes for a moment to block out how beautiful she was and the hot thoughts he had to control.
When he opened his eyes again, he focused on the dry suit as he tugged it up her body, making sure he didn’t touch places he shouldn’t touch, which wasn’t easy. Finally, he got it high enough for her to stick her arms inside, and expelled a breath of relief that he’d survived it without doing something they’d both regret.
“That feel okay? Not crooked?”
“No, it’s okay.”
She sounded breathless, but probably from the exertion of getting the suit on, and not for the reasons he felt that way. He moved around to her back and took her soft hair into one hand to move it aside as he got the Velcro fastened around her neck. It felt like torture that he couldn’t lean in a little closer to breathe in the scent of her skin. Press his mouth to her nape and taste it.
God, he needed to get out of this tent and into the water.
“There.” He cleared his throat and stepped back. “You’re in, but there’s more.”
She turned to face him, and something about her expression made him grit his teeth all over again, wanting more than anything to reach for her and kiss her and to hell with any consequences.
“The face masks. I’ve never worn one befor
e.”
“Yeah. They have that special perfume smell called eau de rubber. You’ll like it.”
Her laughter helped ease the uncomfortable closeness he kept feeling for her, standing alone and so close inside this tent, and he breathed a little easier.
“Eau de rubber sounds like it might become my new favorite,” she said, and he didn’t think he was imagining that she looked a little relieved to be back to their joking.
“I think this is everything, but you need to double-check, Zeke,” Bob said, coming back inside.
“Looks like it. Except for one thing. Where are the earplugs you want to test, Jordan?” he asked.
“Right here.” She reached for a small bag inside a pocket of her folded snowsuit, and pulled out four small black things, handing him two. “I want you to put them in without me instructing you how. To see if you think they’re user-friendly.”
“Okay.” Shaped a little like a music earbud, he easily settled it down into his ear canal. “There. I’d say definitely easy to put in. Looking forward to seeing how they work.”
Her pleased smile in response to that seemed to sneak right inside his chest, warming him despite the chill in the tent. He turned away to grab the hoods, face masks and dry gloves, putting his on to show her how. Focusing on her midsection and getting the rest of the equipment on her didn’t help dull the desire he couldn’t seem to control, which seemed impossible, since she was covered head to toe with black rubber that obscured every inch of her skin except the little bit he could still see until she put her goggles on, and her lips.
“Weight belts next, then the buoyancy compensator vest, goggles, regulators and tanks.”
His gaze met hers, gleaming blue from inside the black mask, and he nearly told her she was the only person he’d ever dived with that he wanted to kiss while literally covered head to toe in rubber.
He was in so much trouble here.
“Here’s when I finally admit it.” Her eyes were filled with rueful laughter. “I thought I’d researched most of what I needed to learn to dive here. But I sure didn’t know I’d feel like a human tire, complete with inner tube and snow chains. Not sure I can even walk the five feet to the dive hole.”
