Главная страница | Современная зарубежная литература | His Surgeon Under The Southern Lights

His Surgeon Under The Southern Lights
Robin Gianna


The lone-wolf doc… …meets his match! In this Doctors Under the Stars story, only when exploring the Antarctic’s freezing waters can marine biologist Dr. Zeke Edwards forget the heartache of losing his family. Until an unexpected, passionate kiss with new colleague Dr. Jordan Flynn starts to break through the barriers around his heart. Having both sworn off relationships they agree to a temporary fling. Then danger strikes…and they’re forced to realize their feelings are anything but temporary!







The lone-wolf doc...

...meets his match!

In this Doctors Under the Stars story, only when exploring the Antarctic’s freezing waters can marine biologist Dr. Zeke Edwards forget the heartache of losing his family. Until an unexpected, passionate kiss with new colleague Dr. Jordan Flynn starts to break through the barriers around his heart. Having both sworn off relationships, they agree to a temporary fling. Then danger strikes...and they’re forced to realize their feelings are anything but temporary!


After completing a degree in journalism, then working in advertising and mothering her kids, ROBIN GIANNA had what she calls her ‘awakening’. She decided she wanted to write the romance novels she’d loved since her teens, and now enjoys pushing her characters towards their own happily-ever-afters. When she’s not writing Robin fills her life with a happily messy kitchen, a needy garden, a wonderful husband, three great kids, a drooling bulldog and one grouchy Siamese cat.


Also by Robin Gianna (#ub4706b5e-be88-55e9-945c-f8b740a46c2f)

Baby Surprise for the Doctor Prince

The Spanish Duke’s Holiday Proposal

Tempted by the Brooding Surgeon

The Family They’ve Longed For

Doctors Under the Stars collection

His Surgeon Under the Southern Lights

And look out for the next book

Reunited in the Snow by Amalie Berlin Available now

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk).


His Surgeon Under the Southern Lights

Robin Gianna






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


ISBN: 978-1-474-09023-0

HIS SURGEON UNDER THE SOUTHERN LIGHTS

© 2019 Robin Gianakopoulos

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




Note to Readers (#ub4706b5e-be88-55e9-945c-f8b740a46c2f)


This ebook contains the following accessibility features which, if supported by your device, can be accessed via your ereader/accessibility settings:



Change of font size and line height

Change of background and font colours

Change of font

Change justification

Text to speech



To Amalie Berlin—what a privilege to get to write

book one of a duet with you. There’s no one better

in the world to brainstorm with, talk with and laugh

with, and I’ve never drunk so much tea in my life.

Let’s do it again sometime. xoxo

Researching Antarctica has been a fascinating

experience, and I’d like to note two resources

I particularly enjoyed and appreciated. Thanks to both

authors for such interesting and informative reads:

Lost Antarctica: Adventures in a Disappearing Land

by James McClintock

Antarctica: A Year at the Bottom of the World

by Jim Mastro


Contents

Cover (#udf6977f1-1f43-51e8-80b7-aae3e9332c5d)

Back Cover Text (#ub5060e2b-9c37-58c6-86ef-002ed5103e95)

About the Author (#ub0cb4cd0-c89f-5d5d-b103-086635fc76f5)

Booklist (#uec1c1045-3e39-5e4d-9e84-da118f0ece28)

Title Page (#ua9ab5952-4da5-54c1-b458-7ddc0f90551d)

Copyright (#u1a6bace9-efab-561d-b5ff-9b935d84ae4c)

Note to Readers

Dedication (#uedae07ea-2056-56e5-9b8b-624a5debcff6)

CHAPTER ONE (#uddbdac7b-f4c3-58f2-8ec6-3c8eab0ce140)

CHAPTER TWO (#u09d45860-c478-5a93-82f5-0378f14a71fd)

CHAPTER THREE (#uce61bc87-7493-5523-a653-a1585f0f201c)

CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)




CHAPTER ONE (#ub4706b5e-be88-55e9-945c-f8b740a46c2f)


WITH THE SHIP pitching from side to side and up and down like a stomach-churning roller coaster, trying to get any sleep felt impossible. Normally Dr. Jordan Flynn could sleep anywhere, anytime, as long as she wore her eye mask, had earplugs stuffed into her ears and soothing sounds were coming from the white-noise machine by her side. This time, though, none of it helped one bit.

Maybe it was because the top bunk of her cabin seemed to threaten to toss her out of it with every swell of the ship as it crossed the infamous Drake Passage on their way to Antarctica. Or because the noise machine’s nature sounds were completely drowned out by real ones—the shrieking wind that she suspected no earplugs were heavy-duty enough to truly muffle.

She rolled to her side and it seemed the ship rolled along with her. Some people might pay big money to go on a crazy ride like this one at an amusement park, but at that moment, she’d pay even bigger money to get off it, if she could.

She squeezed her eyes closed behind the mask, then laughed at herself a little. Early October might be closer to bringing all-day sunlight to Antarctica, but she knew the low glow coming from a small window above her head wasn’t what was keeping her awake. Trying to somehow force her mind away from the uncomfortable rolling sensations, she tried to think about the plus side of the adventure she was embarking on. And working as a doctor at an Antarctic science station would definitely be an adventure.

Fletcher Station was brand-new, and despite her current discomfort, she was still thankful she’d been chosen to work there as a surgeon and general practitioner for six months. Not only work there, but be the very first person to set up the medical clinic and hospital and get it ready for the thousand or so crew members who’d be arriving in a week or so. Plus, they’d seemed to love the idea of having the marine biologists test her parents’ diving invention while they were underwater gathering samples, which was equally exciting.

Right now, only about seventy-five people were crossing the Drake Passage on this ship, getting things set up just like she was. Chefs and others prepping the kitchen and food, engineers getting machinery and equipment ready, and other support staff of all kinds. And, of course, a few scientists, with more on the way. Because scientific explorations, studies and discovery were the whole reason Fletcher Station existed.

Jordan thought about her little flat in London, her steady surgery job and her predictable life, which was exactly what she’d wanted when she’d decided to set down roots for the first time ever. Living all over the world with her doctor parents had been a great way to grow up, but she wanted something different for her adult life, and was happy with her choices.

She’d had to think hard about taking on this six-month stint in Antarctica. Then had decided, why not? One of these days, she expected that her roots would deepen and grow to include a husband and family, living in the same house together forever and ever. Until then, though, she’d enjoy this adventure, take care of patients and get further testing of her parents’ diving invention, one that would hopefully solve the problem of barotrauma. Doing a trial on how well it worked in Antarctica’s extremely cold water as compared to other places would be another strong step toward getting it on the market.

The boat tossed hard, and to focus on something besides the rough ride, she tried to visualize what the medical center would look like, and how much would be involved in getting the equipment set up. Then, inexplicably, that picture was interrupted by an absurdly handsome face floating in her mind’s eye. A face that belonged to the man in the cabin next door.

She’d been trying to get her door unlocked, hanging on to the doorjamb with one hand so she could stay upright, when he’d rounded a corner and strode down the hallway toward the door next to hers. He’d paused, with the key in his hand, to send her a charming smile and ask if she needed help. She’d given him a quick smile back and a “No, thanks” before she finally got the door unlocked and opened. She’d stepped inside and bolted it, relieved to climb up on the bunk and not have to wonder if she’d fall down before she got there.

Making small talk with anyone while working to keep her balance and swallow down a slight queasiness hadn’t seemed very appealing. But now, in the rolling darkness of her cabin, his tall, muscular body, dark skin and deep brown eyes seemed to float in front of her. Eyes that held humor and intelligence, and a hint of a twinkle that had drawn her in the second she’d looked at him. Had even sent her heart into a ridiculous and unwelcome flutter.

She frowned, wondering why in the world she was thinking about a guy she didn’t know. The deepening pitch of the boat had her grabbing the metal rungs at the top of the bed and holding on. Good thing she wasn’t prone to full-on seasickness, or she’d probably be crawling her way to the bathroom by now.

Maybe sleeping on the top bunk hadn’t been the best idea. With the way the boat swayed, she’d been afraid that the equipment she’d brought would slide across the floor, or be dislodged from the top bed, so she’d secured it on the lower bunk. Probably, though, being higher made her feel the pitch of the boat more than she would otherwise. Just as she was pondering if maybe she should just try to sleep somewhere on the floor, the storm sent the boat into its deepest roll yet. First one direction, then the other, then back so suddenly and violently she was flung from the bunk.

Her brain took a second to compute that she was airborne at the same time an automatic shriek left her lips. When her body reached the other side of the tiny cabin, her head connected with the wall as she slammed into it before dropping hard onto the floor like a rag doll thrown by a toddler. “Ow! Damn it!”

Dazed, she lay there a moment. The bruises on her elbow and shoulder started to complain. Her head throbbed. Something warm slid onto her forehead, and she lifted a shaking hand, coming into contact with sticky blood. She shoved off her eye mask and felt around her hairline, confirming that her darned head was cut open. Carefully moving her fingers to figure out where exactly the blood was coming from, and to gauge how much was oozing, she determined it was a fairly small trickle. Must not be too bad a gash since scalps normally bled a lot, so nothing to stress over too much.

She drew a shaky breath before gingerly sitting up. Figuring out what first aid might be necessary and how to actually accomplish it wasn’t going to be easy. Did she even have a mirror in here to try to look at it?

Three loud raps on her door had her turning to stare at the gray metal panel and blink. It also made her realize that one of her earplugs had fallen out, even though she was sure she’d have heard that banging through double sets of the foam things.

Breathing deeply through her nose again, she tried to compose herself and removed the other plug, too, shakily shoving it into her pocket.

“Hey! You okay? Let me in.”

Great. She closed her eyes and slumped back against the cabin wall. She’d bet good money that was her sexy neighbor’s voice. Last thing she wanted was to have him touching her head and making her feel all fluttery, which she had a bad feeling might happen again, considering she’d been thinking of him just moments ago. But of course that was ridiculous. Attractive? Yes. But so were a lot of other men on this ship. And all were men who traveled for their work, and that she didn’t have interest in.

Jordan opened her mouth to say she was fine, but as the blood trickled on down to her eyebrow, she had to grudgingly face reality. It made a whole lot more sense to let him see what was going on with her head wound than her trying to figure out how to check it herself. In a dark cabin with no mirrors, while the seas threw the boat around like a toy.

“Okay.” She tried to stand, but realized she felt surprisingly shaky, which wasn’t helped by the pitching of the boat. She ended up crawling to the door, feeling a little foolish as she reached up to unlock the knob, then leaned back against the wall next to it. “Come in.”

The door crept open only a few inches, which she realized was smart on his part. Easy to accidentally bash someone if you shoved it wide open without first figuring out where they were. She could see him scan the room, then quickly look down, his brows rising and his eyes deep with concern even in the low light of the room.

“Are you hurt?” He flipped on the light switch, then crouched down next to her, his hand on the doorjamb to keep himself steady as the boat rolled. “I heard a loud thud, then somebody—you—cry out. What happened?”

“Got thrown from my bunk. Banged up. My head is bleeding, but just a little. Will you take a look and see what’s going on up there?”

Another violent roll had her sliding sideways several inches on her rear, and his arm shot out to grab hers. “Let’s get you off this floor and onto the lower bunk, since it’s the only thing screwed down to the floor.”

“No room. I have a bunch of equipment and stuff secured on there.”

“Now there’s a good idea. Keep the equipment safer on the lower bunk than your body and head.” A disgusted sound left his mouth. “Hang tight. I’ll be right back.”

She leaned her aching head back against the wall, hoping this wasn’t a bad omen to start the trip. Then again, some of the craziest and worst stuff that had happened to her and her parents on their working treks around the world later made for some of the best stories and laughs.

At the sound of his feet coming up the hall, she turned to see him staggering into the cabin with an armload of bedding while the boat tipped deeply to one side again, and she couldn’t seem to keep from sliding back the other direction. “I’m going to tuck you into this corner over here so you’ll be still while I take a look.”

“Little Jordan Horner sat in a corner eating her curds and whey,” she muttered.

“You’re getting your nursery rhymes mixed up. Not to mention that’s a little weird.” He picked her up in his arms like she weighed nothing and gently sat her in the corner, stuffing the bedding on both sides of her hips, instantly making her feel more secure. “You feel nauseated? Confused?”

“I’m pretty sure I don’t have a concussion,” she said, wincing as she lifted her fingers to touch the tender lump on her head. “And feeling nauseated would be a given, considering the way the ship’s been rolling for the past who knows how many hours.”

“True.” He shot her that smile that made her feel a little weak in the knees. “I’m Ezekiel Edwards, by the way. Friends call me Zeke.”

“Jordan Flynn.”

“I know. Fletcher Station’s doctor.” He nodded. “I’m a marine biologist and climatologist. PhD. Also a trained medic, so you can trust me to take care of your head.”

“How do you know I’m the station’s doctor?”

“Saw your name on the roster. And okay, true confessions.” That quick smile again. “Someone on this ship told me the doctor on board was drop-dead gorgeous, and as soon as I saw you in the hall earlier, I knew it had to be you.”

“Is this your usual chitchat when you meet a woman?” She rolled her eyes, not even close to surprised about that, then regretted it when it made her head hurt worse.

He chuckled. “It’s just nice to finally meet you.” He pulled a flashlight from his pocket and kneeled in front of her, lifting her chin to look in her eyes.

“Honestly, I don’t have a concussion.”

“How do you know? Do you usually recite nursery rhymes just for the hell of it?”

“Actually, yes. It was something my parents taught me to do when I felt worried about something, or if I was hurt, to distract me.” And right now, she seemed to need a distraction from his chiseled features and sexy lips and the manly way he smelled, way more than from her bruised body and the movement of the boat.

“Huh. That’s a new one.” He gave her a crooked smile as his thumb moved from her chin and slipped across her cheek before dropping away. “Lean your head down so I can see what’s going on with your injury.”

His mouth was so close to her face she could feel his warm breath on her skin as his fingers gently moved through her hair. Her heart beat a little faster, and she had a bad feeling it was from his nearness and not her injuries. If she lifted her head back up, her lips would be in the perfect position to come into contact with his and...and...

Not happening, she reminded herself, scowling at how stupid she was being. She didn’t even know the man. Why was she feeling this serious attraction in the middle of a storm while she had a busted-open head? Maybe she had a concussion, after all. Or brain damage.

“It’s not too bad,” Zeke said as his fingers touched around the rest of her scalp, obviously looking for more lumps or cuts, his voice a deep rumble against her face. “I have some derma glue, which will fix it right up.”

“I have some, too. In that blue box on the bed.”

“Good. I need to get this washed first. Sit tight while I get some stuff.”

Sitting in the corner with the boat moving side to side made her stomach decide to complain even more. Probably it had something to do with her bruises and bleeding, too, but either way, it was bad. Bad that she felt sick, and bad that it was looking like she just might vomit right in front of the world’s sexiest man.

Her eyes popped open in horror at the thought. Wildly, she looked around to see if there was something, anything, within reach she could barf into before he got back. Relief filled her chest when she saw a metal trash can sliding a few inches across the floor as the boat rolled again, and she stretched over as far as she could, desperately wiggling her fingers to try to grab the rim. Before she could get her hand on it, Zeke came back into the room and she stared up at him, a full-blown panic starting to fill her chest over the situation.

“Um... Can you...go away...and...come back in a little bit?”

That smile she’d already fallen for slowly stretched his mouth until his teeth shone white against his dark skin. “Feeling seasick? In a storm like this, that’s totally normal. Not to mention you’re hurt, which also can make you queasy, as I’m sure you know. Here.”

He set the stuff he was carrying on the floor and put the trash can in her hands. She glared at him as her stomach roiled. Swallowing hard, she knew she couldn’t control it much longer. “Can’t you see I need some privacy? Go away, please!”

“Don’t worry. I’ve seen plenty of sick people on this exact boat. No point in fighting it. You’ll feel better, then I’ll get your head fixed up.”

“I don’t—” Oh, Lord, she couldn’t hold it back any longer, totally mortified as she got sick into the can.

He stroked her hair, rubbed her back, talking the whole time in a soothing voice. She wasn’t sure what he said, and also wasn’t sure if his sweetness endeared him to her even more or made her want to hit him for not leaving her alone like she’d asked. What a way to get to know a guy.

Except she didn’t want to get to know him, right? Trying to think of this horror as a potentially positive thing, she gave up trying to hold it back and got sick all over again.

Finally, the awful feeling subsided. She went to wipe her mouth, avoiding looking at him, and he tucked a damp cloth into her hand along with a tin of mints. He disappeared with the trash can and she was torn between feeling beyond embarrassed he was having to play nurse, and grateful that he was getting rid of the mess. In minutes, he was back and reaching into the box he’d brought.

“You feeling up to me cleaning your head? I can wait if you’re not ready.”

“Ready.” Or as ready as she was going to be, with his body so close and his hands touching her, her embarrassment warring with a quivery feeling that had nothing to do with being tossed around the boat or with feeling sick and being injured.

With a last swipe of the cloth across her mouth, she popped one of the mints. Feeling marginally better, and glad to have minty fresh breath instead of the prior awful taste in her mouth, she leaned her head against the wall to let him take care of the first aid she needed. Whatever he’d put on the gauze stung as he cleaned the wound. He obviously knew what he was doing, working slowly and gently, but she still couldn’t help but wince.

“Hang in there. I know it hurts. Almost done with this part. Then I’ll glue it.”

“Why do you have derma glue?”

“Did you think I was lying when I said I’m a trained medic?”

“I...forgot. Did you become a medic first, then decide to get your PhDs in marine biology and whatever else you said? Or the other way around?” she asked, as much to distract herself as because she wanted to know.

“I grew up in a place where knowing first aid came in handy.” That seemed like an odd answer, and just as she was going to ask him what he meant, he continued. “Now I spend a lot of time in potentially dangerous waters and up mountain ranges and glaciers, like here in Antarctica. Cuts on coral, and bites and stings from sea life, or falls and other injuries, happen sometimes despite good planning. You better know what to do to treat yourself, or the people with you.”

She nodded, and he cursed in response. “Hold still. I’m about to put the glue on now to close it. The cut’s barely an inch long, so won’t take but a second. Don’t. Move.”

She steeled herself, but didn’t need to because she didn’t feel a thing. “Thanks so much for everything. I...really appreciate it. Trying to clean it and glue it myself wouldn’t have been easy.”

“Hopefully, I won’t need your assistance the same way, Dr. Flynn, but we never know, do we?” He gave her another knee-weakening smile before he stood, his legs wide to keep his balance. “Stay put for a minute. I’m going to move everything off the lower bunk and secure it somewhere else, so you can sleep there instead of the top bunk.”

She opened her mouth to protest, because some of the equipment was delicate. If any of it got broken, it would take a long time for more to be sent on a future ship. Then she realized that he was right, and she trusted him to make sure everything would be kept safe. Must be the calm strength and confidence that simply oozed from the man.

She knew she’d sleep better, assuming she slept at all, if she was only a foot from the floor. And the last thing her banged-up body needed was another jolt out of that top bed. If that happened, she might not be able to get the clinic and hospital ready to go before the next ships arrived.

“Thank you. Again.”

“You’ll find we’re all a team here. No need to thank me for anything.”

In no time, he had everything off the bed and secured as well as possible, the covers pulled aside, then came back to her. She felt strangely comfortable tucked into her corner with all that bedding and wasn’t sure she wanted to go back to that bunk. Except it was probably Zeke’s own bedding wrapped around her. He doubtless needed it back, or neither one of them would get any sleep.

“Okay. Bed’s ready.”

His arms moved to slide beneath her legs and back, and her independent side kicked in, knowing she shouldn’t let him carry her again.

“I’m... I can walk.”

“I’m sure you can. But why would you, when you’re probably shaky and the boat is still moving all over the place and I’m here?”

“Well... I admit my head is throbbing, and I don’t much feel like staggering across the room right now.”

“Appreciate a sensible woman.”

He lifted her against his wide chest and held her close as he stepped to the bunk to lay her on it, then pulled the covers up to her chin. She had to smile even as she felt a little ridiculous. “You’re making me feel like a little kid with a boo-boo.”

“Want me to tell you a nursery rhyme?” He smiled down at her, and her heart beat a little harder as their gazes met and held.

Somehow, she shook herself out of the trance that Zeke Edwards seemed to put her in all too easily. “Not necessary, thanks. But can you do me one more favor?”

“What’s that?”

“My eye mask is somewhere on the floor near the door.”

“Eye mask?” He barked out a laugh. “Is it filled with cucumber essence to keep you bright and beautiful?”

“Funny. It’s great for travel, so don’t knock it until you’ve tried it. Makes me feel like I’m in a little cocoon, along with the foam earplugs I wear. Helps me sleep on long journeys or in strange places.”

“Can I borrow yours to try?”

That grin and the humor in his eyes tugged her mouth into a reluctant return smile. “Yes, because I always have at least two with me on a trip. Just in case.”

Another chuckle as he picked the eye mask up from the floor and brought it to her, carefully sliding it over the top of her head before adjusting it to cover her eyes.

“Sleep tight, Jordan Flynn.”

“Good night, Zeke.” Jordan lay there still and quiet until she heard the click of the door.

Well, damn.

Yeah, she just might be in trouble here, but no way was she falling for a guy like Ezekiel Edwards. She wasn’t a fling kind of woman, and her next relationship would be with a steady man who wanted to share a perfect little house with a picket fence in a lovely neighborhood. Live in the same place for years and years, and have a few children who’d get to see their cousins and grandparents all the time. Grow up with the same friends their whole lives.

Antarctica was not the place she’d find her future husband who wanted the same things she did, only men like Zeke who traveled the world for their work just as her parents had.

She fished her single earplug from her pocket, having no idea where the other one had ended up, and stuffed it in her ear. Tried to eliminate thoughts of Zeke from her mind, without success. But it would be okay. Once at Fletcher Station they’d both be busy and she’d have no trouble steering clear of him, except in the most superficial, coworker way.

She was sure of it. And never mind that her body still tingled from his touch.




CHAPTER TWO (#ub4706b5e-be88-55e9-945c-f8b740a46c2f)


THE ROLLING OF the boat lasted all night and into the next morning, and when the storm finally subsided, Zeke drew a deep breath of relief. He had trouble sleeping no matter where he was, and figured that, between the deep, rocking waves and her poor, sore head, Jordan probably hadn’t gotten much, either.

When Captain John Stewart announced over the loudspeaker that everyone was now allowed out of their cabins for lunch before they docked, Zeke couldn’t wait to get some fresh air. Out in the hallway he paused, wondering if it would be too pushy to knock on Jordan’s door to see how she was doing. He decided that, since she’d had a head injury, it was perfectly acceptable for him to check on her.

He rapped on the door. “Jordan? Zeke. Wondering how you’re feeling.”

“I’m fine.” Her voice was muffled, but she sounded fine. Very fine, just like the rest of her. “Thanks again for your help last night.”

“You’re welcome.” He stuck his hands in his pockets, wondering if she’d invite him in. Waited for the door to open so he could see her pretty face and deep blue eyes. When it didn’t, he was surprised and annoyed at how disappointed he felt. Probably shouldn’t be, though, since thinking of her just one cabin over, and how she’d felt in his arms, had been part of the reason he’d been awake half the night. “So, I guess I’ll see you around.”

“’Kay.”

With that clear dismissal, he shook off the odd feeling and headed to the deck to breathe in the now-calmer wind and talk with people he knew. The main conversation was about last night and how it had been one of the worst Drake Passage storms they’d been through, which morphed into everyone trying to one-up each other with nightmare sea stories from their pasts.

Grinning at the good-natured arguments and obvious exaggerations, he decided to head to the bridge to find out how much longer they’d be until landfall.

“What’s with the roll of this tub?” he asked John as he stepped through the door. “Two days ago, you said it looked like smooth sailing. Pretty sure last night didn’t qualify.”

John laughed, but kept his eyes on the gently rolling swells in front of them. “Sorry. It was one of those times when the weather changed in the blink of an eye. But we’re at a steady twenty knots now, and I think it’ll stay there until we get to shore.”

“Says the man convinced it would be Lake Drake this whole trip, flat as a pancake.” He thought about Jordan getting hurt flying out of her bunk and pondered telling John about it, since, as captain, he’d want to know. But he had a feeling Jordan wouldn’t want a bunch of questions about it, and he’d look at her head when he had a chance. No need to have John check on her when Zeke could do it himself.

“Yeah, well, it takes a big man to admit that sometimes he’s wrong,” John said, “and I pride myself on being pretty big.”

Zeke chuckled, knowing he was referring to his girth as much as anything. “How long until we get there?”

“About...” He peered at the dials, then the horizon. “Forty-five minutes.”

“That soon? You told everyone they could come to the lounge for lunch, but there won’t be time for that.”

“We made better time than I expected. The plus side of the winds and currents we had last night. But we’ve got lunch all ready, so we’re still going to hand it out to those who want it.” John shrugged. “Just sandwiches, though. It was all the kitchen crew could put together with the weather we had, and I didn’t know when it would clear up. So I told them to go ahead and make a sandwich lunch. Trying to eat bacon and eggs from a plate isn’t easy when the ship’s all over the place, as you know.”

“Sandwich sounds good. Thanks. I’ll grab one before I get all my equipment pulled together. Appreciate the ride, such as it was.”

“Anytime.” John grinned as they shook hands. “See you the other way in...what? Six months?”

“That’s the plan, unless I have to leave earlier to make sure my next grant gets approved. See you then.”

Zeke headed to the lounge to make sure he got one of the sandwiches, since he suddenly realized he was hungry, not having had much for dinner. An empty stomach in stormy seas wasn’t a good thing, but neither was a full one, and he’d tried to find the right balance before he’d headed to bed.

Thinking of how he’d startled awake with a pounding heart when he’d heard Jordan slam against that wall, then cry out, had him wanting to check on her again. Except she’d made it clear she didn’t want that, so he planned to do the next best thing, which was to be a considerate guy and grab a sandwich for her, too. After getting sick last night, and everything else, she was probably starving.

The moment he walked into the lounge, his gaze went straight to the tall, slender woman with shiny dark hair to her shoulders. She was standing next to the rows of wrapped sandwiches, and his heart did a strange little pit-a-pat to see her there.

Apparently, he’d been right. Jordan was indeed hungry.

He moved to stand next to her, leaning down. “I’m a fan of the Reubens, but the turkey with bacon is good, too.”

“I thought about getting the veggie, but saw it has raw onions. Yuck.”

The way she cutely screwed up her face in obvious distaste made him smile. “I’m with you. Raw onions on a sandwich is a solid no for me.”

“Yes. A solid no.” Her mouth relaxed into a wide grin, and he realized it was the first full smile he’d seen from her. He liked the way it made her deep blue eyes twinkle, and a dimple poke into one cheek. “Any idea when we’ll be docking?”

“Captain Stewart said about forty-five minutes. Less than that now. So before we do, I want to take a look at your head. How’s it feel?”

“Honestly? It hurts. Way more than last night. But that’s to be expected of a gash and bruise like that.”

“Let’s go out on the deck so I can see it.”

“It’s fine.”

“You just said it hurts.”

“Like there’s something you can do about that? Just needs time to heal, that’s all.”

“So, when you have a patient that refuses to let you follow up after their treatment, you nod and are perfectly okay with that? I just want to look at the glue job, and see if it seems to be holding well.” He wasn’t sure why he felt so frustrated at her stubbornness. She was a surgeon, after all, and knew all about wounds and derma glue, and if she wanted to deal with it herself, what was it to him?

Maybe because the sound of her hitting that wall in the middle of the night had woken him from the terrifying dreams he sometimes endured, and he still felt a little unsettled by all of it. Wasn’t it normal to want to check on her now, to make sure she was really okay?

For long seconds, her gaze clashed with his, until she released an exaggerated sigh. “Okay, fine. But can we please find a place where not everyone on the ship is going to be coming up to us and asking what happened?”

So he’d been right that she wouldn’t want John, or anyone else, making too big a deal of her injury, and what happened last night.

“I know a good spot.”

He nearly reached for her hand, but was pretty sure she wouldn’t appreciate the familiarity, even though they’d shared an unusual closeness last night. He stuck his fist into his coat pocket instead. Most people were at the bow of the ship to see Antarctica in the distance, so Zeke led the way to the back of the boat and around a corner where they’d be alone.

Wind whipped her soft hair into her face and she reached back to gather it into a ponytail behind her head. He tried not to get distracted by the beautiful line of her jaw that he’d noticed in the low light of her cabin last night.

He drew in a breath and put his hands on either side of her head, tipping it slightly down. Moved her hair gently out of the way so he could see the wound. A raw, red line spanned the bruised lump that resembled a miniature purple eggplant just above her hairline. But the edges of the gash seemed firmly closed together, and it obviously hadn’t bled during the night, so it seemed the glue had done its job.

“Looks like it hurts like hell. But the good news is the wound is still nicely closed, so unless you whack it again, it should heal just fine.”

“I thought it felt secured, but couldn’t be sure.” She gave him a twisted smile that showed she knew her stubbornness a moment ago about her dealing with herself hadn’t made a lot of sense. “Thanks again for patching me up.”

Shocked by an urge to press a soft kiss to her head, he dropped his hands and stepped back. “I’m going to check with the captain, see when it would be okay to go below and start to gather my gear, which is going to take a while. If I see you, I’ll give you the heads-up on how close we are so you can pull yours together, too.”

“Thanks. Appreciate that.”

An awkward silence fell between them, and he gave her what he hoped was a relaxed smile before moving to the bridge to get the information he needed from John. He wished he had eyes in the back of his head to see if she was watching him go. Because he sure as hell knew if she’d been the one walking off, his attention would have been riveted until she was out of sight.

Jordan Flynn was a beauty, no doubt about it. But he hadn’t had any kind of real relationship since he’d broken it off with his last girlfriend after the worst week of his life, and didn’t plan to go there ever again.

John gave him the go-ahead, and he went below to the cargo area to search for the boxes of dive equipment and everything else he needed. Being one of the first to get his gear on the shuttle meant it wouldn’t have to follow him during the next round of supplies-toting when the shuttle got full, and he began stacking everything onto several carts.

A cardboard sign caught his eye as he moved his first cart to the huge exit doors so he’d be at the front of the pack. Large letters printed in orange noted the multiple boxes that held medical equipment for the clinic and hospital.

He hesitated. Should he help Jordan out by stacking it on some of the empty carts and getting it ready so her stuff would be on the first shuttles out, too? Being a newbie on these expeditions, she wouldn’t know that it could be another full day before the medical gear got delivered to the station if it didn’t go out on the first round.

He shook his head at himself. Being helpful when someone needed it was all well and good, but at what point did it border on being a busybody, or even a creep? No, his own stuff was plenty to deal with right now. The crew was there to help Jordan. If he ran into her while they were both still on the ship, he’d give her the heads-up about how things worked around here. Otherwise, he’d mind his own business, and concentrate on work, like he always did.






With the ship nearing shore, Jordan hurried to the bow with dozens of others wanting to admire the scenery before they disembarked, so excited to get her first glimpses of the place she’d be calling home for the next six months. She’d seen so many photographs of the shoreline, and the icebergs and sea creatures that could be sighted, and each one had seemed more incredible than the last. She nearly had to pinch herself that she was about to experience it for real.

Standing on the open deck with the cold wind on her face thankfully much less ferocious than the day before, Jordan grasped the handrail and wondered if Zeke Edwards was somewhere within the crowd, too. Though why she couldn’t get her mind off the man, she had no idea. Whether she wanted to or not, though, she’d be lying to herself if she didn’t admit she wished he was standing there next to her, talking to her in that beautiful bass voice and charming American accent of his about this amazing world she was about to enter.

She stared out at one of the incredible white mountains of ice in the water, one side gleaming with a blue so deeply iridescent it took her breath away. It seemed fairly close to the ship, but she suspected that was an illusion, that it was actually much farther away than it appeared. Other flat icebergs floated nearby with groups of seals lounging on them. She knew Antarctica was home to dozens of species, but had no idea what kind these were. Wouldn’t it be helpful if a certain marine biologist with warm eyes and an all-too-appealing smile was there to educate her about some of the wildlife she was seeing?

“Pretty, isn’t it?”

Her heart jolted, then sped up. As though she’d conjured him with her thoughts, Zeke Edwards stood next to her, his face tipped down toward hers, his mouth relaxed into a small smile. The cold air stung her lungs as she breathed in and smiled back, and suddenly the incredible images in front of her seemed even more staggeringly beautiful.

“Pretty? It’s incredible.”

“The icebergs are truly wonders. Some are so big, hundreds and even thousands of feet thick and miles wide, that they’re given names and tracked. Captain Stewart is giving this one a wide berth because sonar doesn’t show if there might be a lot of ice reaching horizontally under the water. Don’t want to end up like the Titanic.”

“An even bigger accident than my small one last night is not the way I want to go. Thrown into freezing water, fingers and toes quickly numbing from hypothermia. Then convulsions, mental disorientation, organ failure. Finally, death. I hope to get to see more of Antarctica before that would happen.”

A laugh rumbled from his chest as his amused eyes met hers. “Showing off your medical knowledge, Dr. Flynn?”

“Always do, whenever the opportunity arises.”

The way they were smiling at one another, taking her back to that intimate feeling last night, sent her heart into a silly pit-a-pat.

“Glad to hear that. Upping my education on all things medical is something I enjoy.” A strand of her hair insisted on flying into her eyes, and his finger reached to tuck it back inside her hat. “Good news is I think you’re safe from hypothermia at the moment. Ship has neoprene immersion suits on board, and lifeboats. We’re close enough to shore that we’d make it before the death phase.”

“Thank heavens I can stop worrying now.” Again, that chuckle rumbled from his chest, warming hers. “I’ve lived in a lot of places around the world, but usually in hot locations. Freezing to death is something I hope to avoid.”

“Why have you lived lots of places around the world?”

“My parents are both doctors who work for an international organization that took us all over. It was an interesting way to grow up, but I’m glad to be done with it. Never had the comfort of living in one place, having the same friends for years and being close to grandparents and extended family. So I’m happy to finally be putting down roots somewhere.”

Oddly, he didn’t respond after getting her answer, his expression strangely serious.

“So.” The awkward silence had her wanting to fill it with more chitchat. “Do you travel a lot for your work?”

“Yes. Various places, but for a marine biologist and climatologist, Antarctica holds the most interesting discoveries. I’ve been here thirteen times.”

“Thirteen times?” Wow, the man was nearly as rootless as her parents. “You come more than once a year?”

“Sometimes. What we’re learning here about the climate changes in the world is invaluable.”

“I’m embarrassed to admit I don’t know exactly what a marine biologist does. Other than study the ocean.”

“We study the ocean floor and gather samples. Collect data on how warming and acidification of the polar waters is affecting all kinds of life, from the smallest plankton to penguins.”

“And climatology?”

“Interconnected, but that involves gathering ice cores aboveground, among other things. I usually focus on either land or sea on each trip. The goal is to gather enough data to make private companies and governments see that significant changes need to happen to slow down the warming of our planet.”

The passion in his eyes was intense, and she wondered how he’d decided to do that kind of research. She opened her mouth to ask more questions when a young man came to stand behind her, and she turned to look at him.

“Excuse me, are you Dr. Flynn?”

“Yes.”

“Captain Stewart told me to load your equipment onto transport carts. Help you get it off the ship and onto the shuttle. It’s ready to go down in the cargo hold as soon as we land.”

She’d hoped there might be a few crew members in the cargo space that would be able to help her pull all the bulky equipment together, but hadn’t counted on it. To hear it was already loaded up was a big, but pleasant, surprise.

“Well, thank you. Should I meet you down there?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll be at cargo door three.”

The young man left and she turned back to Zeke. “Wow, that’s a nice surprise. I wasn’t sure how much help I’d have, and there’s a lot of stuff to take. The amount of equipment and supplies they gave me to open up the medical center is crazy. I’ll have to thank Captain Stewart for thinking about it.”

“He’d appreciate that.”

Something about the expression in his eyes and the way he rocked back on his heels with his hands in his pockets struck her as slightly odd, and suddenly she knew why.

“It was you, wasn’t it? You’re the one who asked him to help me!”

“No. I asked Captain Stewart to see who might be able to give you a hand.”

“I don’t want to be treated differently from other people just because I’m a woman. It’s my job to—”

“Jordan. There are times to be independent, and times to let people help. And it has nothing to do with you being a woman.” His dark eyes met hers. “I already told you how many times I’ve been down here. If you don’t get your stuff off the boat on the first round, you’ll be waiting for it for another day or two. And since you wouldn’t know that, and you’ll be wanting to get the clinic and hospital set up as soon as possible, I figured I’d grease the wheels a bit so you’ll be ready in case of a medical emergency.”

A confusing mix of frustration and gratitude filled her chest. She did need to get everything set up as soon as possible, both because she had to begin doing baseline physicals on everyone who’d arrived in this first round, and also in case there was an emergency, as he’d said. But it sure seemed like the man was a little controlling.

She drew a deep breath. “I appreciate that, and admit I’ll be glad to have everything at the station. But I would have liked for you to have given me the heads-up so I could be the one asking the crew for help. As the station’s doctor, people need to know I’m fully capable of dealing with whatever I have to deal with here.”

“My apologies for not talking to you first.” He reached out to shake her hand, and even through her glove she could swear she felt the warmth of his hand clear down to her toes. “Good luck with your clinic setup—that’s going to be a big job. Don’t let that independent streak of yours keep you from asking me or someone else for help, okay? See you around.”

She held her now-empty hand in her other one and watched his long legs jog down the metal stairs of the boat, probably going below to the cargo area to get his own things ready.

What was it about the man that had her feeling all wound up? Slightly irritated and ridiculously attracted?

She blew out a breath. There was zero point in being attracted to him. He lived the kind of life she’d left behind. This trip was about caring for patients and testing her parents’ device, right? When the time came that she wanted to become interested in a man, it was going to happen back home in London. Period.




CHAPTER THREE (#ub4706b5e-be88-55e9-945c-f8b740a46c2f)


SATISFIED THAT ALL the scuba gear and other diving equipment had been scrutinized, confirmed to be in good working order and organized, Zeke moved on to get the new aquarium room built and everything installed that he and the other marine biologists would need for their samples. He’d never had to do this in Antarctica before. Usually, all the science stations had everything set up already, needing only some adjusting and tweaking.

But Fletcher Station was brand-new, and while starting from scratch would be a lot of work, it gave him a chance to create something better than what someone else had built. He got to work, and hours passed as he carefully set the rock work in place, then got the salt water prepared. Assembled the various hoses, filters and everything else the aquarium needed to support the marine life he’d be bringing here to study. He paused to stretch, pleased to be making good progress on this big job.

“Glad to see you’re halfway done here, so you can’t drag me into doing your work, and mine, too.”

Zeke looked toward the door. Bob Shamansky, who worked for the same Southern California university he did, stood there holding a cardboard box in his arms.

“I’m pretty sure it’s usually the other way around,” Zeke said. “You asking me to bring up who knows what from the seafloor for you to study instead of learning how to dive so you can do it yourself?”

“Why should I learn to dive when I have people like you to do it for me?” Bob grinned as he set the box on one of the long tables lining the outer wall. “Besides, you don’t fool me. Diving is your favorite part of the job.”

“One of my favorites, I admit. You don’t know what you’re missing.”

“I’ll stay in the lab and you macho types can go dive into dark ice-cold water—thanks, anyway.”

“Hey, I read about your latest breakthrough with a medicine you created through halogens in seawater. Treats neurological disorders, doesn’t it? Congratulations.”

“Thanks. Happy about it. Took me about five years from creation through the clinical trials to finally get it approved. Your samples helped make it happen, so congrats to you, too.”

Another reminder of why the work they all did here was so important, and Zeke’s fatigue slipped away as he turned back to the aquarium tasks. “What’s on your list of things for me to collect this time?”

“I’ll tell you about it after we get set up. This study is something totally new, and I’m pretty pumped about it.”

“Which I know means you’re giving me some tough jobs.” Zeke grinned. “You need help carrying anything in?”

“I’ve got a crew guy giving me a hand down in the storage hangar, then he’s going to help bring it here after the Ski-Doo training. Which I think I saw is in about an hour. Want to race?”

“We’d get in trouble with the station head for being a bad influence on the newbies.”

“Well, dang it. Since we’ll be at twenty-four hours of daylight in no time we won’t be able to race in the dark, so he can’t see us. Risking falling in a crevasse is such a thrill.”

“Says the man who won’t even go diving. You’re all talk, Shamansky.”

“True. I’m about as risk averse as they come.” He clapped Zeke on the back. “Going to grab my cart and bring it up. See you at the training.”

“You’ll be easy to spot, if you still wear that blue top hat over a balaclava.”

“I traded it in for an orange one this year. And something else, but you’ll have to come to the practice to find out what it is.”

Zeke shook his head and chuckled as Bob left the room, turning back to his work. Digging in the plastic containers he’d brought up here, he realized he didn’t have some of the tubing and filters he needed. A lot of his gear was still in the storage hangar, but several of the boxes were crammed beneath his bed.

He glanced at his watch. Since his cabin was about halfway between here and where they’d be conducting the Ski-Doo practice, he might as well see if what he needed was there to save time on his way back. He made his way through a covered, aboveground bridge that connected this building to Pod B where he’d be bunking. He moved down a hallway past rows of doors until he found his small cabin. With one single bed, a small table he used as a desk and built-in closet for clothes, it was comfortable enough. Good thing, since he’d be calling this place home for the next six months.

Home. He tried not to think about the home where he’d grown up. That it didn’t exist anymore, and neither did his parents. Or the other two people he’d loved and who’d raised him after his parents died. Home was San Diego now, or at least as much of a home as he ever wanted to have again.

But there was no point in going over all that again. He’d learned what he’d had to about himself from that horrible experience, and would never forget.

He rolled up the shade covering the small window so he could look out over the ice fields beyond. In the summer months of endless sun, the light-blocking shades were essential to a good night’s sleep, which he had trouble achieving even when it was dark. The shades took his mind back to Jordan Flynn and her eye mask, and he had to smile, thinking about her spunk and her shiny hair and deep blue eyes the color of the Pacific.

He turned and grabbed the things he needed from one of the boxes, put on the standard-issue red snowsuit the station had given everyone, then headed for the Ski-Doo practice. Pointless that it was, he couldn’t seem to help the sudden spring in his step, knowing he’d see Jordan there.






Jordan stood near the big snow machines, deciding they looked a lot like motorcycles, and if that was the case, she’d be okay riding one. Living in so many unusual situations and places, she was probably more experienced driving all kinds of vehicles than most people, and hopefully this wouldn’t be anything particularly new or different.

With her peripheral vision, she noted a tall form approaching. Despite wearing the same red snowsuit as everyone else out there, she knew without even looking that it was Ezekiel Edwards, and frowned at the way her heart beat a little faster. Couldn’t help feeling that, when his gaze met hers, a small smile on his lips, it all somehow seemed to warm the freezing air.

“Ready for the Ski-Doo instruction?” he asked. “Have you ridden one before?”

“Not exactly. Motorcycles and scooters and such, yes. I told you my life experiences have been mostly in hot places, except for England. I’m guessing they’re a lot like a Jet Ski?”

“Except without waves to hit and maneuver over. Here, you just have to make sure you don’t drive over a crevasse and disappear deep inside, or get too close to the edge of an ice shelf and have it crack off so you end up in frigid water. Experiencing that hypothermia and death you talked about.”

“You’re making that up.”

“Why do you think they have practice? There’s a lot involved in knowing the safest ways to get around the area, especially if you’re going out in the field.”

“Well, that makes me glad they’re doing this, to train newbies like me.”

“I’d offer you help, but I know how you react to that. Don’t want you annoyed with me again.” His eyes crinkled at the corners as his smile widened. “Good luck and have fun.”

She watched him move toward one of the Ski-Doos, and found herself still watching him as he slung one long leg over the saddle, got settled, then let it roar. She shook herself from the trance he seemed to send her into every darned time she was around him. When she was instructed to mount the machine and drive, she was more than glad to have something else to focus on besides how handsome and appealing the man was.

Relieved that she managed to get the machine started without any problems, she set out across the snow. Motor scooters and cycles were always fun, and riding the Ski-Doo was even better. Cold air tingling her face as she zoomed across the white world in front of her, maneuvering around the orange cones, had her deciding she’d definitely use this as transportation into the field whenever possible.

She brought hers to a stop to give someone else their turn to learn how to drive it, and her attention immediately slid to Zeke as he went through the obstacle course.

His obvious confidence as he operated the machine showed he was an expert driver, which wasn’t a surprise since he said he’d been to Antarctica thirteen times. An incredible number since the man couldn’t be more than thirty-five or so. He must have taken these trips sometimes twice in one year, unless he’d started doing this as an undergrad, and even then, it was impressive.

He pulled up next to her, sending that appealing smile her way. “Ready for the next lesson?”

“Yes. This is really fun.”

“Next part is less fun, and a lot trickier, but essential to know when you’re away from the base.”

Zeke’s gaze moved past her, and when he started laughing, she turned to see a man wearing an orange top hat that looked like something out of Alice in Wonderland, and a scarf with polar bears all over it wrapped around his neck.

“Good look for you, Bob!” Zeke called. “Though you know some of the newbies are going to expect to see polar bears here now.”

The man responded with a laugh and a thumbs-up before Zeke turned back to Jordan with a grin. “Bob Shamansky. Works for the same university I do.”

“That hat would be a good look on you, too,” she said. In truth, she found that impossible to picture, since Zeke Edwards simply oozed masculine sex appeal and sophistication. “But everyone who comes down here to work has to know polar bears only live around the north pole.”

“You’d be surprised.” He dismounted the machine and picked up a nearby pair of skis, leaning them against the snow machine. “Bob’s a chemical biologist who creates new medicines—you might be interested in talking to him about some of them, Dr. Flynn.”

“Really? I know marine life here can be used to create them. That’s so interesting.”

“It is. Now for the tricky part of the lesson.” He pulled some rope from one of the storage boxes on the side of the Ski-Doo and handed them to Chip Chambers, the station head who’d been instructing everyone, as the crew all crowded around.

“Okay, everyone,” Chip said. “It’s important to know that crevasses are everywhere out in the field. Those of us who’ve been here a lot learn to look for signs of them, but when they’re covered with blowing snow it’s a lot trickier.”

“Then how do you know if they’re there?” one man asked.

“You can’t always know. Which is why we try to have those less experienced travel into the field with someone who’s done it a lot of times, and why we have strategies for when things go wrong.” Chip held up the two ropes and began to tie them to the machine. “We attach these to the back, like so, set the throttle to a low speed and hold on as it travels, skiing behind it. If the machine heads into a crevasse, you have to release the ropes and just let it go.”

“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” another crew member said.

“I’ll demonstrate.” Chip sat sideways on the snowmobile, put the skis on, then to Jordan’s surprise, he actually got the machine moving with the ropes trailing behind in the snow. “There’s a kill switch right here. If you fall while you’re skiing behind it, hit the switch to stop the machine. Once it’s moving, stand up and pick up the ropes, like so, then let the skis take you until you’re trailing along behind it.”

As Jordan and the others watched him stand and let the moving snow machine and attached ropes tug him along on the skis until he was slowly pulled forward, she had a feeling he made it look easy. One of the young men—a guy who’d told her he worked in the kitchen—volunteered to try it, and she was glad, because she didn’t want to be the first one and possibly end up on her face.

“Okay,” Chip said. “Skis on, throttle going, stand to pick up the ropes, then move to ski behind it. Ready?”

“Ready.”

Doing exactly as he’d been shown, it looked like it was going to be an easy ride. Until he pushed the throttle a little too fast, which made him hurry and stumble trying to grab the ropes. Jordan gasped when he got tangled up and went down onto the hard ice, shrieking in obvious pain as he was dragged a short distance before he let go.

“Hell,” Zeke said, sprinting after the machine as it kept on going. Jordan and the station head ran to see how the man might have hurt himself.

She knelt down beside the guy, who was clutching his upper arm and rolling back and forth on the snow. “Tell me what hurts,” she said.

“My arm. Shoulder. Damn it, I think it’s broken.”

“Maybe not. We’ll see. But we need to go inside. It’s too cold out here to take off your snowsuit and everything. What’s your name?”

“Pete. Pete Sanders.”

“Think you can walk, Pete?”

“I... Yeah.”

“Damn it. I’m sorry this happened,” Chip said. “But Dr. Flynn will take good care of you, I know.”

Two people who’d been participating in the snowmobile practice came over to assist as Jordan and Chip carefully helped the man to his feet. As they moved toward the station, Zeke jogged up next to them, barely out of breath.

“Looks like you’re doing okay. Hang in there. I’ll take over for you, Chip.”

“Thanks. I’ll check on you as soon as I’m done here, Pete.”

Chip moved away and Zeke held Pete steady as his dark eyes moved to meet Jordan’s. “What did he hurt?”

“About to find out. Arm or shoulder, based on what he said.”

“Are we taking him to the clinic? Is it ready?”

“Is that a real question, Mr. Field Medic?” She smiled. “It’s not fully pulled together yet but ready to see patients. But you don’t need to come.”

“Might as well see if I can help, since you’re alone there until the next boat arrives.”

“Appreciate it.” And she did. Much as she could handle whatever was going on alone if she had to, if something was broken or dislocated, having someone there to assist would be a big help, especially without a nurse.

“That was a pretty exciting maneuver there, Pete. Wish I’d gotten it on video,” Zeke said as he kept a steadying hand behind Pete’s back.

The man managed a weak laugh. “Yeah. I’m never going to hear the end of this.”

“Being famous for crashing during the snowmobile practice is better than nobody knowing who you are, right? A good way to introduce yourself to the women at the base, who’ll all feel sorry for you and ask how you’re feeling.”




Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/pages/biblio_book/?art=48663814) на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.