Arctic Enemy

by Linda Harrel

  'Perhaps that bump scrambled your brains more than we thought. It looks like the good life here to me… soft bed, meals on a tray, pretty girls hovering over you.'

  'Well, now that you put it that way, sir, I guess I shouldn't complain.'

  Sarah stared at the pleasure written clearly across the crewman's face as he grinned up at Guy. It was just a hair short of worship. Strange, indeed, since it was Guy who'd drafted him into such unpleasant duty.

  'Glad to see you so well,' said Guy, leaning down and laying a hand on the man's shoulder. 'See you for tomorrow's big docking, shall we, then?'

  'You can count on it, sir!'

  They left the infirmary together and walked the deserted corridor in silence, an uneasy truce hanging tenuously between them. When they came to the door leading to the flying bridge he stopped. 'I was going out to smoke a pipe,' he said. 'But it's blowing out there—I don't know if you'll want to come.'

  'Well… perhaps for a minute,' she said.

  He slipped his hand under her elbow to help her over the raised threshold and at once she felt a deep, warm rush of pleasure. It shocked her, not because she was totally innocent about sexual stirrings, but because it came in response to a man she found so objectionable in other ways. It was unfair that he had the power to whipsaw her emotions like this!

  They walked out to the farthest side of the deck, to the point where it hung out over the water rushing by beneath it. The wind had risen and Sarah snuggled deeper into her parka, her hands burrowing into her pockets. Guy flipped up the collar of his navy pea jacket as the wind lifted his hair back from his face.

  Sarah was acutely aware of his nearness, his special male scent of tobacco and leather. Be careful! she warned herself. This is probably only a lull in the hostilities. She tipped her chin and looked up at the Arctic night. The air was crystalline; the stars intensely bright, their brilliance frozen in the lush, black sky.

  'This is what you love best, isn't it… just being here, at sea. The rest of the business, it isn't you at all.'

  He exhaled raggedly. 'That's partly true, I suppose. I do love it here. And I spend more time than I like back at my desk. But I'm not complaining about that. It's my way of trying to give back a little of what the sea has given me. It's not a debt that can ever be completely wiped out, though.'

  'Tony sees it so differently, I think. He…' In the smoky light from the bridge room, she could see him looking at her with disconcerting intensity, and her voice trailed off.

  'Yes,' he said, 'Tony and I are different. You won't find that the same tactics will do for both of us.'

  Sarah shook her head. 'I'm sorry, I don't see what you mean.'

  His voice was brutal. 'Come on, Sarah. You're bright and you're beautiful… and you're a woman. You know that Tony loves the chase, the elaborate, flattering games. I'm much more direct.'

  He raised his hands and gripped the fox ruff that circled her questioning face. Pushing it back, he exposed her auburn hair. His two large hands cupped the sides of her head, his thumbs sweeping across her cheeks, lingering at the corners of her mouth.

  Her lips parted in protest, but before she could utter a sound, he covered her mouth with his. Delight surged through her, spreading in a hot wave across her breasts and stomach. Weakened, she leaned against him, his hands slid supportively down her sides, pressing her hips against him.

  But memories surfaced from below the sensual delight, memories of a hostile and scornful Guy Court. Sarah's mind fought the pull of her body. The cool and rational Sarah, the girl who would not be manipulated by any man, struggled for control. She pressed her hands against his chest and twisted her mouth free of his.

  'Don't!' she whispered hoarsely. She inhaled sharply as his beard rasped painfully across her cheek.

  He looked down at her, bullying amusement touching the corners of his eyes. 'You surprise me, Sarah. I didn't think you'd mind doubling your pleasure.'

  Sarah flinched. 'That's the second time you've made a very nasty insinuation about my purpose on this ship!' she flared. 'If you have something to say, I wish you'd come right out with it!'

  But her anger only seemed to increase his amusement, for he gave a snorting little laugh. Enraged, she taunted him with the only ammunition she had against him.

  'You really are jealous, aren't you? You can't stand it that Tony has this wonderful success on his hands! You'll do anything to ruin it for him, even if it means stooping this low!'

  He regarded her disdainfully. 'Perhaps I was wrong about you. Perhaps you're not as experienced as I thought. That's quite a rattled response to a simple kiss.' He turned to go, then stopped and looked back at her. 'Don't stay out too long— the temperature's dropping fast.' Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he abandoned her.

  Sarah squeezed her eyes shut in mortification. He was right, she thought miserably. It was only a single kiss. Why had she allowed herself to be so thoroughly unhinged by it? She had always thought of herself as so mature, so sophisticated, even though she had, long before, chosen not to sleep with the men she was involved with. She must have looked like a schoolgirl to him!

  She slumped dejectedly against the rail, guilt forming an unpleasant little lump in her throat. Somewhere along the line, the control that she depended on had eroded. She had forgotten that the only thing that really mattered was the story. If she continued to let Guy get under her skin like this, she was going to abuse the trust that D'Arcy had given her.

  Somehow she had managed to put herself squarely between two feuding men. And a very nasty spot it was. The Enterprise was a small, closed community. There was no place to hide, no way she could avoid Guy in the days ahead of her. There was only one way to handle this incident. She would be pleasant but offhand with him, she resolved. Guy Court was not going to ruin this assignment for her.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  'Good morning.' Guy scraped back a chair at the breakfast table.

  A murmur of greeting went around the table. Sarah squared her shoulders. 'Good morning,' she said, her smile bright but brief.

  'We were just talking about Sarah's story,' bubbled Katie. 'Won't it be wonderful to be able to read about ourselves when we get home?'

  Guy nodded politely, but was silent, and speared a broiled kipper from the platter.

  'She's got nothing but praise for us, I hear,' added Tony, smiling broadly. They were going to dock at Melville Island slightly ahead of schedule, and that knowledge had put the Enterprise's owner in an expansive mood. 'But that's no surprise, is it, Guy?'

  'No,' Guy agreed instantly, looking directly into Sarah's eyes. 'Sarah's story has always been entirely predictable.'

  Sarah laid down her fork. Well, that's damning with faint praise, she thought. People looked up, puzzled, and Tony began to speak. Guy was quicker.

  'I mean,' he added easily, 'Captain Price is the best in the business, and his crew reflects that. How could she help but be impressed by such a well-run ship?'

  Again, the right words, but tinged with another meaning. Or was she only imagining it? Had she become so sensitised to the man that the most innocent comment had to be scrutinised for double meaning? The heavily fringed eyes studied him over the rim of her coffee cup until the sound of her own name drew her back to the conversation.

  '… and although she hasn't given me a firm answer,' Tony was saying teasingly, 'I think I've just about persuaded her to spend some time with the family in England. I thought she might like to look over our operations in London first hand, perhaps talk to Uncle Julian at the country house.'

  He looked at Sarah with eyes so full of bright anticipation and good will that she could not help but smile. What a joy it was next to the soured, cynical expression that so often masked Guy's face!

  She hadn't been ready to answer him. And she had, in fact, been leaning towards a refusal of his invitation, sensing that by agreeing she was tacitly committing herself to more involvement with him than she was prepared for. But one look at the mocking glint in
Guy's eyes, and the words spilled out.

  'I've been thinking about your offer,' she lied breezily, 'and I've decided I'd love to go! Something on the company background and its other operations make a super follow-up story.'

  The steadiness of her voice astonished her, contrasting as it did with the uneven beating of her heart. She hit Tony with that smile of hers, and firmly avoided Guy's gaze.

  Mercifully, the address system crackled to life, diverting the attention that this exchange had sparked. Docking procedures were about to begin, and all hands were to take up their positions. Standing in unison, the men took final gulps of warming coffee and departed, almost at a run. Only the three women remained, savouring a quiet moment before they, too, would crowd the rails.

  Katie broke another muffin on to her plate, an impish grin crinkling her cheeks. 'Gosh, aren't you excited, Sarah? Mr Freeland's just about the most eligible bachelor in the country—I'm always seeing his picture in the magazines, showing him at all the big social events. Why, he even goes to royal weddings and things like that!'

  Katie's youthful enthusiasm was infectious. 'Well… yes,' Sarah allowed. 'Tony says the estate is glorious. And the family, by all accounts, is pretty lively. I expect I'll have a good time.' Katie pounced in triumph. 'If you ask me,' she said, heedless of the fact that no one had, 'this is just like an old-fashioned shipboard romance—in a very modern setting, of course?'

  Caught off guard by Katie's directness, Sarah felt herself flushing. Emily came tactfully to the rescue. 'Now, Katie,' she chided gently, 'you're letting that vivid imagination of yours run away with itself again. Perhaps Mr Freeland's just trying to be helpful.'

  'Perhaps…' was all Katie would concede. 'You'd never think he and Captain Court are related, would you? One charms you right off your feet, the other just bristles and storms. Patrick won't hear a word against Captain Court, you know, but sometimes he scares me half to death.'

  'And sometimes,' agreed Sarah, 'he scares me, too. I'm surprised that Patrick's so loyal. From what I've seen, your husband's the one who's borne the brunt of all the extra work.'

  'That's true,' said Katie, suddenly serious. 'I've seen almost nothing of him since we sailed. But Patrick says he never asks a man to do anything he wouldn't do himself, and that's the mark of a true master. Isn't that right, Emily?'

  'Oh, yes! John lives by that rule. That way, if the worst should ever happen, the men will be steadfast. They won't balk when great demands are made of them because they know the Master is asking no less of himself.'

  Sarah crumpled her napkin beside her plate and pushed her chair back. 'Well, you two can characterise Guy any way you want,' she said, 'but I still think there's a bully masquerading behind that spiffy uniform! I'm going to get my parka and go up to watch the docking. See you on deck!'

  She waved and cantered out of the door, leaving Emily and Katie staring bemusedly after her.

  A ship like the Enterprise, pushed by its own great weight, could travel three miles before an order to stop it would take effect. That was only one of a hundred details John Price had to keep in his mind as he shepherded his charge into the floating, barge-mounted dock. Here there was no Mr Danner to help him through treacherous currents and around hidden obstacles.

  Her feet tucked into high shearling boots, a black wool watch cap pulled down over her ears, Sarah watched the painstaking process through high-powered binoculars. She had drifted down the rail from her two companions. Katie and Emily understood only too well the enormity of the problem their husbands were shouldering, and Sarah sensed their need to be alone with their thoughts.

  The ice-capped shore that moved slowly up to meet them was rocky and forbidding, an unlikely site for an outpost of man's highest technology. But perched precariously on that hostile and desolate ground was a cluster of high-domed metal buildings forming a protective ring around the deep, ice-crusted inlet. The colony bristled with pipes, antennae and control towers. The outer circle of supply huts and dormitories turned their backs, like buffalo in a blizzard, on a vast, unforgiving landscape. Streaks of sharp, flint grey rock broke through the loose, drifting curtains of snow. Beyond, the snow plain was dotted by mirror-like lakes of ice reflecting a pale, buttery sun.

  The intense cold had not deterred the ground crew who had turned out in force to greet them. They lined the dock, standing on the roofs of sheds and on packing cases, craning their necks to watch the acrobatics of the rope handlers sprinting across the Enterprise's bows. When the ticklish business of docking was finally over and the landing ramp joined the two worlds, a tremendous cheer rose up from them. Sarah moved agilely among the throngs on deck, recording with her camera the elated faces and the victory signs that were flashed back and forth from land to ship. There was a ceremony on the bridge during which the terminal supervisor and Tony made brief, flattering speeches, exchanged engraved mementos, and posed dutifully for publicity photographs. The whole thing, to Sarah's amazement, was over in minutes. The crews began at once to transfer the liquid gas from the land storage tanks into the Enterprise's holds.

  Tony and Sarah were lounging idly in swivel chairs, watching the loading technicians bent over their computers.

  'What did you expect?' he asked, a smile playing about his lips as he studied her frown.

  'Oh, I don't know… it was just so rushed,' she replied. 'You'd barely shaken hands with Gus Cameron when everyone went trotting off to work.'

  'You're forgetting that hundred-thousand-dollar-a-day operating bill we face. Minutes count in this business—we still have a small fortune in construction fees outstanding. It wouldn't take much of a delay to put us in the red on this run.'

  Sarah pressed her lips together and looked doubtingly at Tony. 'You'll forgive me if I'm a bit sceptical about that. You stand to make more money from one run of this single ship of yours than someone like me will see in a lifetime.'

  'It's true that the profits from this contract could be phenomenal—but so could the losses. It's a terrific gamble we're taking. Besides, all this so-called profit that people ramble on about: it doesn't go into my pockets. It's ploughed right back into the company to build more ships. We plan to have half a dozen of these ice-breakers on the Arctic run eventually. Frankly, Sarah, I can't help but be a little resentful when people imply that we're lining our family pockets with this money. How many others would be willing to lay everything on the line the way we are?'

  'Not many,' Sarah said soothingly. 'I can see that shipping is hardly a pastime for the fainthearted.'

  But Tony seemed not to be listening. His eyes were drifting absently over the room, his long fingers drumming on the arm of his chair. Sarah wondered if he wasn't faintly bored with the discussion of empire-building.

  'Do you ride, Sarah?' he asked unexpectedly, his voice once again animated.

  'What—you mean horses? No, I don't. Why do you ask?'

  'I'm wondering how I'll amuse you when I get you to Fairfield. We keep horses there and I thought… well, never mind. What do you like to do in your spare time?'

  Sarah put down her notepad and crossed her legs. 'Spare time seems to elude me these days,' she replied with a wry grimace. 'But I do love to ski when I can snatch a day or two.'

  'We're out of luck there, I'm afraid. What else?'

  'Well… walking, if that doesn't sound too tame for you. I'm an addict. I go for miles and miles if I can. I find some of my best ideas for stories come to me when I'm walking.'

  'You're an easy woman to please. I approve of that. There's some beautiful countryside around Fairfield that we can amble through. Some charming villages as well. I was thinking I'd meet you in London, show you the offices. Then we'll take in a play or two, and a few good restaurants. Afterwards, we'll drive down to the house and unwind a bit with the family. Will that suit?'

  'Perfectly. Who do you expect will be there?' she asked casually, although she was thinking uneasily about Guy.

  'If we make it about a month from now, we'll be clos
e to the holiday season. The children should be out of school, so I'd wager you'll see a fair size cross-section of us. There'll probably be my older brother Simon, who's in banking in London. He and his wife, Nina, have five children, if you can believe it. And my sister Laura— she's a very contented wife, mother, and charity worker, who has her own sizeable brood.'

  'Tony, good heavens, that's close to… twenty! You certainly don't need another house guest!'

  'Wait, I'm not through yet! That's just the Freeland side. There'll be Aunt Diana, of course, because she lives at Fairfield on a more or less permanent basis. I hear Guy's youngest sister Emma is coming. She has her heart set on conquering the London stage—she's working as an assistant wardrobe mistress right now, though. Emma never seems to appear with fewer than half a dozen starving but decorative young actors and actresses in tow. And Guy's brother Nicholas should make it—he's a master at a small school and will be on break. He and his wife have a new son.'

  'Tony, please—I'm staggered! I come from such a tiny, quiet family. I can't imagine how you all squeeze into one house!'

  Tony laughed. 'With a great deal of noise and confusion. I promise you you won't be bored! Sarah, I just realised—your visit will bring us right up to Christmas. Is there any chance you could stay over?'

  Sarah quickly shook her head. 'I'm afraid not, Tony. My parents really look forward to the holiday season, and they've only got me. I couldn't desert them. Even though I technically live at home, a lot of my assignments take me out of town… although not usually this far afield. We don't see that much of each other. That will probably continue for as long as I can foresee.'

  'Is that the way you want your life to be, Sarah? One glamorous job after another, with half your time spent criss-crossing the country? It must be exhausting!'

  Sarah pushed back a strand of hair that had slipped across her cheek. 'First of all, very few of my assignments are what you'd call glamorous. It's mostly just plain hard work combined with a lot of deadline pressure. But now's the time to do it. Now, while I'm free of personal commitments.'