Alaskan Adventure (Destination: Desire) (16 page)

Only the desert would know…

Quakes

© 2015 R.L. Ugolini

Dr. Malcolm Reid goes out on his seismology expeditions alone, and he likes it that way. The fewer warm bodies he’s responsible for bringing home alive, the better.

When the mentorship of a geology grad student is thrust upon him just as he’s leaving for Mexico’s Baja peninsula, he resigns himself to eight weeks of keeping her safe—from ATV-riding cattle rustlers, from a weather-worn mountain lion roaming the hills, and most of all from her accident-prone self.

Jenna Polaski has needed the canyon-sized chip on her shoulder to get ahead in the old boys’ education hierarchy. Now, needing samples to finish her thesis, she has no choice but to serve as the professor’s pack mule. And wonder if his limp is connected to rumors surrounding a long-ago incident that killed one of her predecessors.

Malcolm keeps a sharp eye out as they penetrate deep into the wilderness. But the one danger he forgets to watch for is the one that captures them both—an undeniable attraction that shatters all the rules.

Warning: Contains a gruff college professor with a cloudy past, and a determined grad student who isn’t afraid to get her hands—or the rest of her body—a little dirty. Some parts may leave you sweaty—keep a bandana handy.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Quakes:

She looked like death warmed over. Her brown eyes were bloodshot and her skin was pale and chalky. She must have rushed to meet him on time—her hair was still wet, pulled back in a lopsided ponytail.

Mal reached in the backseat, dug out a dented thermos and carefully poured coffee into a travel mug. He waited for her to buckle up before handing her the cup. “Here.”

“Oh thank God. Starbucks.” She snatched the mug from his fingers and raised it to her lips.

“It’s hot,” he warned.

She waved off his concern.

He stared, unblinking, as she tipped the cup back and chugged. “And it’s not Starbucks.”

When she came up for air, she said, “What? Dunkin’ Donuts? Micky D’s?”

“Believe it or not, the technology exists to brew coffee at home.”

“So the legends are true.”

He hid a smile behind the rim of his mug. The nutmeg he’d added to the grounds lent an earthy reassurance to the coffee that he suspected was lost on the girl, drowned out, perhaps, by her distracting sarcasm.

“When you’re ready,” he said, “take us to I-10.”

She emptied the mug, leaned back and sighed. A small, closed-lipped smile spread across her face. She checked the mirrors, started the engine and put the Rover in gear. “Which way on the highway—north or south?”

Mal’s stomach sank. “Do you need more coffee?” His voice had a cutting, sardonic edge to it—just what he intended. He shook his head. Where did she think Mexico was? “Charlotte swore you were the brightest student she’s had.” Eight weeks suddenly seemed a very long time.

Just then, her fingers curled around the wheel and she slammed the brakes. Hard. The tires squealed.

Mal rocked forward, his seat belt cutting into his hips. A loose plastic bowl dislodged itself from the back and flew forward, grazing his temple. “Jesus, Polaski.” He braced himself, his gaze darting to his side mirror. The road was empty—fortunately, traffic was light this early in the morning. He took a long, slow breath to calm his pounding heart.

Polaski turned, her eyes blazing. She pointed at him. “Listen, you.” But as soon as the words left the girl’s lips, she gasped. Her accusing finger fell to her side.

Mal steeled his jaw against the smile creeping across his face. Though formality relaxed between faculty and grad students in the field, they hadn’t even left campus yet. He didn’t mind. Bluntness was preferable to the fear he’d seen earlier. Besides, the girl was clearly too exhausted to think straight—not the best condition for driving. If the throbbing in his leg hadn’t flared up this morning, he’d have taken the wheel. But with the pain so bad, he wasn’t sure he could safely work the gears. They’d stand a better chance if she drove. He hoped.

She started again. “Dr. Reid…” checking her mirrors, she gently accelerated, “…you could have just said
south
, you know.”

Mal tossed the bowl into the back. Giving his seat belt a reassuring tug, he stretched out his legs and closed his eyes. “South, then. Wake me when we get to the border.”

Thirty seconds of blissful silence passed.

“So…” Polaski said, “how long have you been working in this field area?”

Why did people always want to talk? All he wanted was a little quiet so he could rest his leg and think about his research. Mal pretended to be asleep.

“Probably awhile, considering how long you’ve been a professor. Where did you say this place was, exactly?” Her speech quickened, her words tripping over themselves. “You must have a lot of stories. From all your trips. What story is the most exciting…do you suppose?” She paused to take a breath.

Apparently, the girl needed something to keep her mouth busy. Most exciting story, indeed. What did she know? No, what did she think she knew? She wasn’t buying his attempt to feign sleep. He straightened in his seat.

“Oh good, you’re awake.”

Sarcasm. He deserved it, but he didn’t have to like it. He sighed and brushed a dozen short, caramel-colored hairs from his jeans. Mal had made time to see Candy this morning and had left covered with horse fur and loaded with coffee and breakfast.

Suddenly inspired, he poked around until he found Marsha’s care package. “Bagel?” She couldn’t talk if her mouth was full.

Her eyes lit up. “I’m starving. Thank you.” She reached in the white paper bag.

“Don’t thank me, thank Marsha.”

“That woman on the phone? The one who thought…which was hilarious, by the way.”

Mal ran his hand down his jaw. Why did his field assistant have to be a girl?

“Is she your wife?”

Mal rubbed his eyes. “No.”

She hesitated, her brows scrunching. “Girlfriend?”

“Sister-in-law.” He cleared his throat. “Glad to hear you weren’t scarred for life.”

Polaski took a bite of her bagel and nodded. She swallowed. “Do you have one?”

“One what?”

“A girlfriend.”

She must have interpreted his silence for an answer. “A boyfriend, then?”

“Jesus, Polaski. No! No girlfriend. No boyfriend. I like women. That is, if I found one I liked, I’d damn well like her.” He exhaled heavily. “Not that any of this is your business.” Mal looked out the passenger-side window, his hot breath fogging up the glass. His neck suddenly ached with tension and he leaned on the headrest.

Polaski let a couple miles roll by before she asked, “Did you see Richard at the loading dock this morning?”

He gave her a sidelong glance at the unexpected, but welcome change of topic. He’d seen the whole stupid thing. “No,” he muttered.

“Good.”

Mal let a smile curl his lips. “Your boyfriend didn’t seem too happy.”

“I thought you said—” She sighed heavily and seemed to change course. “What, exactly, did you see?”

“Ah, young love—”

“And, he’s not my boyfriend.” Her voice lowered. “Not anymore.”

Mal didn’t want to know the details. Could he pretend to sleep again? But nothing would stop her—he was learning she didn’t need him to carry on the conversation.

“Richard was not part of the plan…” Polaski said, her words trailing off.

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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

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Alaskan Adventure

Copyright © 2014 by Crystal Jordan

ISBN: 978-1-61922-362-2

Edited by Holly Atkinson

Cover by Valerie Tibbs

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

First
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
electronic publication: December 2014

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