Light refracted somehow, swallowing the wide, wild world so she saw only him, heard only him. It was supposedly freezing out here but she felt no chill. She only felt desire. In a swift move, he reached for her, sealing his mouth to hers, stroking her just the way she wanted to be stroked. Hot and sweet. His tongue touched her lips lightly. And as Emma snuck a swift breath, he swept in.
In a flash, the intensity increased. So did the depth. Pressure built within her—as did her need for more.
She slid her hands down his neck and across his shoulders, their bulky gloves and jackets annoying barriers. His hands at her back pressed her closer. Suddenly he was passion personified, kissing her fiercely—as if it were a kiss he’d been waiting for forever and now he wasn’t ever giving it up.
Her own passion rose to match, ruling her. The devastating attraction she’d been fighting since yesterday was unleashed, and the current of electricity became a violent surge, blowing out her brain and making her capable only of feeling, not thinking. All that mattered was his touch, more and more of his touch. Her nipples ached; she wanted his head and hands at her breasts. She wanted all of him to explore her most heated parts. She wanted to be completely bare. Which was crazy when they were…
She broke away, sucking in a mouthful of the chilly air. “I’m not here for this,” she muttered breathlessly. This was crazy.
He ran his gloved thumb across her lower lip in a final caress, and she trembled, an aftershock of sensation almost causing her knees to buckle.
“Nor am I,” he said softly, seeming serious for the first time. “But here it is.”
She shook her head. “No.”
He stepped back. “I’m really not…”
He really seemed to mean it. The teasing had just been that—teasing, but this pull between them? This white-hot need? It wasn’t funny—it was almost frightening.
“I’m sorry,” he spoke more clearly. “But you have to admit that was inevitable.”
“Yes, but that’s it.” She turned and walked farther away from him, desperate to regain some sense of normality and put this spell back in its box.
She had no intention of getting close to anyone. She’d been let down and left too often. And on the ice with this project, she had a real opportunity to show she had something special to offer the world. If she could pull it off. No one had believed in her before now, so the drive to prove her place here bit hard. She couldn’t let anyone distract her from reaching for that.
And though Hunter might chase a light fling, she knew it wouldn’t be light for her. Not given the intensity of emotion he’d just stirred in her with a single kiss. Emma never wanted that kind of intensity—because the flip side of fun was heartache. And the flip side of those kinds of fireworks would have to be catastrophic.
“You’ve been here before, haven’t you?” It wasn’t merely a polite conversation starter to move them on from that mad moment. She was insanely curious about him.
He nodded. “Last year, I was at the American station. Always wanted to come to this one.”
“Why?”
“Smaller.” He walked a few more paces toward the boundary flag. “Fewer people.”
And that was a good thing? The super-flirt wanted a smaller pool to play in? Or maybe he’d really meant it when he said he hadn’t come here for a hookup.
“You’re lucky getting to come down here twice,” she prattled, still breathless. “I’ve been waiting forever for my one chance.”
“Then you’d better make the most of it.”
“Not with you.” She shook her head. “That’s not happening.”
He puffed out a deep breath, the air froze and formed a cloud between them. Slowly he nodded. “So why were your eyes watering?”
“Sorry?”
He smiled, the light, teasing smile of earlier. “Your lashes froze up. They must have been wet.”
“Because of the cold.”
“No,” he admonished gently. “You’re a softie. You were teary about being here.”
Okay, that she couldn’t deny, so she simply smiled.
“Come on.” He turned, dropping his gaze from hers. “I’ll show you something amazing.” He chuckled as he took her arm. “And yes, we’re allowed this far.”
He led her between the path flags, walking for a good ten minutes in sizzle-tipped silence.
“Wow.” Emma broke it as she stared at the looming lumps in the ice. “What are these?”
“Pressure ridges,” he answered. “Where the sea ice meets the shelf ice. They slowly collide and form ridges and bumps.”
Not just bumps; they were beautiful formations—nature’s own ice sculptures and better than anything any artist could create.
“This is incredible.”
“Don’t get teary again.” He threw her a teasing look.
She just shook her head, blinking furiously. It was too late.
CHAPTER THREE
FIELD SAFETY TRAINING took two days. Despite the fact she was only to be down there eleven days, Emma had requested to do the full course because part of her project was to experience and then reflect what it’s like to live on the ice. To be able to do her mural back in Christchurch, she needed as much experience of life on the ice as she could. But it meant she’d be pushed for time to finish her mural while actually here. But surely with the endless days, she could manage it.
They started indoors, sitting through lectures on safety and theory and scientific ethics, including restrictions on how they could approach the wildlife. Emma’s excitement bubbled over again.
Later they moved outside to the practical aspects of the course—which meant learning how to evacuate from a Hägglund through the top hatch should it start to sink through the ice. No problem for her, given she’d played in the Hägglund in Christchurch many times. But in the afternoon they took their sleeping gear and jumped into another ATV and drove for twenty minutes or so before pulling up. On this stretch of the vast snowy landscape, they built a snow shelter, putting up tents and camping for the night.
They were divided into two groups of five to build their shelters. The four women present were split. So in her group there was a young woman named Lily, who’d been down briefly last year, plus three of the men. She glanced at the guy she’d managed to avoid most of the morning.
“Aren’t you lucky having me in your group?” He winked.
She shook her head. “You’re not lacking in confidence, are you?”
“Have you ever built a snow shelter before?” he asked. “Because I have.”
He was strong, too—shoveling more snow than she and the others could work with. They had theirs built a good ten minutes before the other team. He was on it with the tents as well. He and the other woman in the group did one while she and the two remaining men did the other.
“You’re a pro.”
Emma heard Lily marveling at his efforts and glanced over, her gaze colliding with Hunter’s. The rogue winked. He really needed to stop doing that.
They cooked dinner on a Primus and then settled in for the long evening. Emma wasn’t tired in the least, despite the day’s physical work. Nor was anyone else. They sat in camp chairs outside the tent, bundled in their survival gear, and stared at the endless horizon.
Hunter had more energy than anyone. To Emma’s amazement he got up, grabbed a shovel again, and started digging out some blocks of ice. He then began constructing something with them. “Can you tell what it is yet?” he called to her.
It took a while as he put the blocks into a circle, but then she nodded. “Stonehenge. Okay, that’s pretty cool.”
“I’ve finally done something to impress you?” He pressed a thick mitt to his chest. “It’s a miracle.”
“Sit down, you idiot, and have a rest. It’s late.”
“Come and walk with me for a minute, or you’ll get stiff.” He reached out and hauled her up.
“Is Lily a beaker?” Emma couldn’t help asking about the woman who’d been chatting nonstop to Hunter while he put the tent up all by himself.