Melt (2 page)

As a few more men boarded, Emma couldn’t help wondering where the handsome guy from the kit room had gotten to. The seats were almost all full now and their scheduled takeoff time was only minutes away.

A heavy but energetic tread on the stairs signaled a late-running passenger and sure enough, eleven pairs of gloves worth of gorgeous bounded into the gangway. He looked along the occupied rows, his glance locking on her for a searing second. She’d have thought it impossible for anyone to look sexy in the giant regulation jackets with their bright orange stripes, but it turned out orange was the ultimate in sexy… Who knew?

Begging her body to cool down, Emma looked hopefully for empty seats farther away from her, but this flight was full and the last vacant seat was the one next to hers.

He settled into the seat and had no trouble doing up the safety harness himself.

“Wouldn’t want to miss this.” He stretched out his legs as far as he was able in the cramped space.

Well, no, you sure wouldn’t.

He looked down at the way she was gripping her hands together. “It’s your first time?”

Why did she read something suggestive into everything he said?

“You’re nervous?” He followed up with a touch of concern.

“No,” she replied, making the conscious decision to relax. “I’ve resigned myself to the fates.” She glanced at him. “Are you really a nervous flier?”

“Not really.” He reached down to secure his daypack. “I’m a fatalist, too.” Sitting back in the seat that his shoulders were too broad for, he threw her another of those killer tinged-with-tease smiles. “So how long are you going for?”

“Only eleven days.” She tried to ease away a millimeter or so from him, but there was nowhere to go. A problem, as the safety-gear/hot-American combo meant she was cooking quicker than instant noodles. “I’ll be back home in time for Christmas.”

And with Grandma Bea having fallen and broken her hip only a few weeks ago, it seemed important to treasure the festive season this year.

Until that fall, Bea had always seemed ageless—like time had no noticeable effect on her. But overnight she’d weakened and suddenly Emma had seen how brittle and thin she really was. That hit Emma in the one spot where she was most vulnerable: she had no one else.

Grandma Bea’s drilled-in manners had her asking, “What about you?” But that was as far as manners would make her go; she was determined to restrict this guy to polite acquaintance territory. It didn’t matter how good-looking he was. Definitely not. Nor did it matter how he could infuse every sentence with a devilish double entendre. Nope. She was
not
going there.

“A couple of months. Till the end of summer.”

“Nice.” She nodded and said nothing more, hoping he’d take the hint and end the chatter.

“You’re one of those who’d do anything for a stint down there, right?” he asked—again with that hint of tease in his expression.

She studied the gleam in his eyes and answered carefully. “
Almost
anything. I don’t mind washing dishes.”

The creases at the sides of his mouth deepened. “That’s what you’re doing—washing dishes?”

“No, but I would if asked.”

“What are you doing?”

“Painting,” she said.

“Pictures or walls?”

“Both. You?” she asked, giving up on her earlier determination to ignore him.

No doubt, he was some incredibly intelligent scientist who’d been blessed with the best genes on offer—brains, body, charm,
and
looks.

“I’ve got a project to manage.”

Emma clamped down on her desire to ask more, and he didn’t offer more detail. Instead, she watched the big door shut and paid attention as final safety procedures were reiterated. And then the engines fired up.

It was like thunder clapping and clapping and clapping. They taxied for only a short time, and then paused. Emma’s pulse matched the engines’ roaring rise to a frenetic, all-consuming din.

It was weird zooming along the tarmac backward. All passengers faced the rear of the plane, and without windows to get a sense of their progress, the sensation of lifting off was even weirder. But so exhilarating.

She breathed out as the plane leveled and realized she’d been holding her breath the whole time.

The engines maintained their roar, so talking was no longer possible. Well, you could talk as much as you liked, but no one was going to be able to hear you. Something Emma figured was great, since it thwarted her urge to learn more about His Gorgeousness.

But that droning sound couldn’t stop her thinking about him. She shifted in her seat, wondering why foreign accents were so attractive. Several of her workmates had fallen for a marine or three.

The US Antarctic program was based in Christchurch—right next to the New Zealand one—and across the road from the hotel where she worked as a receptionist. Many of the Americans stayed there on their way back and forth from the ice. She’d never been swayed by any, but this guy had asked her a couple of questions and his voice alone had made her toes curl. Add the smile, and...

Not happening.

One holiday fling had been one too many already, and it was pretty obvious this guy was used to the effect he had on women. His kind of sensual confidence didn’t come from nothing. It came from success—
multiple
successes. Emma had enough issues with trust, so a guy who no doubt liked to spread himself around was never going to be a contender.

What she needed was distraction. Her fingers itched to grab her pencil and journal. He had the kind of face that everyone took a second, if not third, look at and his kind of symmetrical perfection wasn’t common. Not those sculpted cheekbones and edgy jaw and perfectly spaced eyes with their unfairly long lashes. Then there was that almost dimple when he smiled and the faintest scar that ran into his right eyebrow. Frankly, the tiny imperfections only enhanced his jaw-dropping looks.

But she could hardly sit there and sketch him. That definitely
wasn’t
a distraction.

Fortunately her e-reader was tucked into her backpack, and she rummaged for it. She’d preloaded a number of books to see her through. In the land of eternal sunshine, keeping the routine of reading before sleeping might help her relax. Although if she spent the eleven days on almost no sleep thanks to staring at the view and penguin spotting, then that’d be great, too.

She switched the reader on and stared at the screen for a mortified moment before quickly exiting that particular novel. She couldn’t pick up from the passage she was up to—
he
could see the screen. If he it read over her shoulder? The tease he’d give her then didn’t bear thinking about.

…

Hunter had spent more minutes than he wanted to admit thinking about the blushing babe. When she’d stared at him earlier, he’d seen what it was that made her eyes so mesmerizing. They were green in color but one of them—the right one—was a different shade, paler. He’d never seen anything quite like it. She was using those eyes right now, seeming to drink up every detail in the plane and ignoring the e-reader she’d pulled out. Terribly serious, she was definitely a first-timer.

Intrigued by her combination of wary and cute, he couldn’t resist engaging her some more. While he wasn’t heading there to party on like a wild thing as some did, he didn’t think she should be going down with no thought of living it up just a little. And you know, seven or so hours was a while to have to sit still and do nothing. It was early in the morning, so he hardly needed a nap. And how could he when he had onboard entertainment right beside him?

One thing Hunter did know was that you took the good times when they were on your doorstep—you never knew what might happen the next day. He also knew the trick to managing conversation on these cacophonous planes. You had to lean close and speak right into the ear of the person you were chatting to. No hardship there when even from this small distance he was enjoying the scent of her shampoo.

“Are you really going to paint walls?” he half shouted in her ear and bit back a grin. She had the most delicate hands of any painter he’d ever seen.

“I really am.” She leaned her head closer and shouted back but focused her eyes firmly on her fake-zebra-skin-covered e-reader. “And I can drive a Hägglund. Bet you didn’t expect that.”

“No.” He mulled her possible skill with the massive vehicle that looked like a cross between an army tank and a bus. He shouldn’t be surprised; everyone who came to work down at the base had multiple talents—often unexpected ones. “How did you master the Hägglund when you haven’t been on the ice before?” It wasn’t like the all-terrain, tracks-instead-of-wheels carriers were readily used in cities.

“One of the operators of the Antarctic attraction near the airport taught me.”

“Was he allowed to do that?” And was Hunter feeling envious of the guy?

“I don’t think so, but we were never caught.”

He digested that with a wry grin, happy to learn she wasn’t quite as goody-two-shoes proper as she appeared.

“What about you? What’s your unique skill?” she asked with a shout in his ear, but she still kept her eyes on the screen as if she wasn’t all that interested in his answer.

He laughed beneath his breath. “No unique skill. I only bring my assets.”

“Which are?”

“Material and vast.”

“Money?”

“No.” He sounded as sly as he could to provoke her. “Other things.”

“You mean like physical ones?” She finally looked from the screen and hit him with her mismatched, beautiful eyes.

“You can’t see any use for a big, strong man?” he asked, unashamedly outrageous.

“You think you’re strong?”

“I know I am.” He leaned even closer to make extra sure she heard him. “Question is, are you going to be able to keep up?”

“I’m not the one with the keeping
it
up requirement.” She leveled him with an Antarctic-worthy, butter-wouldn’t-melt smile. “I find that the guys who need to talk themselves up don’t tend to live up to the rep they set themselves.”

“All talk, no action?” He held back his laugh. “I imagine that would be something you understand.”

Her gaze narrowed. “Maybe I’m just particular.”

“Yeah, I get that you’re fussy.”

She nodded as if now all serious. “And I’m not going to take my pick from what’s going to be a very small pool. Unlike some in our species, I can get by without getting any for a fortnight.”

He whistled low through his teeth. “A whole two weeks? You’d really go that long?” He shook his head as if in amazement. “How
do
you do it?”

She sighed. Then leaned close—he caught the lingering scent of her soap as well as the shampoo. Sweet it was, too.

“I have a friend,” she whispered right in his ear.

“A friend?” He almost choked, surprised at how she’d risen to his baiting—and trumped him. He was the one almost rising now, damn glad his survival trousers were on the baggy side because he needed the room in them this minute.

“Comes with batteries.”

He laughed delightedly. “Wow, I’d love to spend some time with you and your friend.”

…

Emma couldn’t believe she’d tried to take him on in the saucy talk, but she’d been provoked by his outrageous chat and less than subtle inference that she was some kind of square. Only now his gaze was trained right on her—fully focused and frankly lethal. And suddenly she was thinking all kinds of sassy thoughts. Worse, she seemed unable to stop the words tumbling from her mouth.

Of course, there was no vibrator in her pack. She’d never mentioned the
word
“vibrator” to any man before. In truth she hadn’t even
held
one. But she had some serious vibes rumbling in the nether regions this moment.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you,” she said oh-so-politely. “But my friend is very shy.”

“Only likes to play in the dark?” he asked oh-so-understandingly.

“I’m afraid so.”

“Then I’m afraid your little friend isn’t going to have very much fun in the next
fortnight
, because it never gets dark down on the ice this time of year. It’s always light and bright.”

She nibbled the inside of her cheek to stop her smile, but she’d gone too far to backtrack now and the spurt of flirt zinging in her veins demanded she try to win this round. So she parried the only way possible. “Who said anything about my friend being little?”

He chuckled.

“That doesn’t intimidate you?” she enquired with hammed-up amazement, really getting the hang of it.

“Not at all. Remember, I have the assets.”

Damn. The guy had way more experience than her at this. “You know, I think it’ll be good for you to hit the ice. You need cooling down.”

“You’re going to rub my face in it?”

“Not such a bad idea.” Except her fingers now itched to do more than rub.