0373401965 (R)

by Lara Lacombe

  Part of him wished he could make the dreams stop. They weren’t regular enough to be considered recurring, but every time he had one it stayed with him for weeks, casting his life in shadow. It didn’t take a shrink to figure out why he’d had one tonight. Should he tell Avery? Would she forgive him if she knew he hadn’t just walked away and forgotten about the baby? How would she respond if she knew he regretted the loss of their child every day?

  I’ll tell her tomorrow. He didn’t want to upset her by bringing up painful memories, but his pride demanded he try to make her understand that he wasn’t the callous bastard she’d thought him to be all these years. Perhaps it was selfish of him, but he wanted her to acknowledge his pain, to consider that maybe, just maybe, she’d underestimated him then.

  It wouldn’t change the past, but it might help him sleep better at night.

  Chapter 4

  “You’re here early.”

  Avery looked up and blinked at him, and Grant could tell by the look on her face he’d broken her concentration. “Sorry,” he said, sliding into a seat across from her. She had set up an office of sorts in the staff break room, and when he’d walked in she was busily poring over pages and typing notes on her laptop.

  “It’s okay.” She gave him a quick once-over before returning her focus to the glowing screen in front of her. “You look better today.”

  “I feel better,” he confirmed. “It’s amazing what a little sleep will do.” He didn’t mention his dream, recognizing the time wasn’t right. Yet. He took a sip of his coffee and noticed the dark circles under her eyes and the faint lines of fatigue around her mouth. “You should try it yourself.”

  She ducked her head. “I know. Believe me, I tried.”

  “Was your room okay?” She was down the hall from him, a fact that had pleased him when he discovered it this morning. If her quarters were anything like his, the room was small and no-frills, but serviceable enough. He’d stayed in far worse places, and he was willing to bet she had, too.

  “It’s fine.” She frowned a bit, as if reconsidering. “The wardrobe isn’t big enough for my coat, but other than that, I can’t complain.”

  “I usually throw mine on the bed. Extra warmth that way.”

  “Good call. Is it always so cold?”

  Her question caught him off guard and he laughed before he could stop himself. “You are in Antarctica,” he pointed out.

  Avery blushed, her pale cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink that made him think of roses. “I know,” she muttered. “I just thought it would be a little warmer inside, that’s all.”

  “Just be glad you’re here in the fall,” he remarked, taking another sip of coffee. “From what I hear, the winters are brutal.”

  “How long have you been here?” She sounded genuinely curious, and a small spark of hope kindled to life in his chest. If she was interested in his life, maybe he could segue into talking about the issues that really mattered. It was a long shot, but he chose to see her question as a sign she might be willing to listen to him...

  “A few months. It took me several weeks to adjust to the cold. I’ve been in some chilly places before, but this is unlike anything else. It’s a cold that seeps into your bones and freezes you from the inside out.”

  She nodded. “I’m beginning to understand that. Do you see a lot of frostbite?”

  He leaned back, trying to keep a smile off his face. Avery was talking to him, really talking, and about something totally unrelated to the outbreak. He didn’t know how long this apparent truce between them would last, but he was going to savor every minute of it. “Not as much as you’d think. The researchers and staff here take the temperature very seriously. Most of the time, they’re very smart about going out with proper gear. Every once in a while I’ll see someone who stayed out too long or had a gear failure, but they usually get to me before true frostbite has set in.”

  She cocked her head to the side. “So, what does your normal case look like?”

  “Usually, it’s an uncomplicated upper respiratory infection. That’s why I didn’t worry when the first cases presented—it looked like the normal crud that makes the rounds. Seems like everyone gets it at one point or another during their stay. I also have patients with lacerations, the occasional broken bone or sprain. But generally speaking, the people here are pretty healthy.”

  “I’d guess they would have to be, to survive out here for long.”

  He acknowledged her point with a nod. “The people who come out here are different from the general population. They tend to be pretty fit and have a well-developed sense of adventure. They also tend to be more willing to take risks, which results in some of the accidents. But you’re right—there aren’t really any couch potatoes here.”

  Avery’s eyebrows drew together in a frown. “Which means this disease is pretty serious. If it can kill four previously healthy people in a matter of days? We’re looking at something big.”

  “So what you’re saying is it could be even worse if this thing infects your average American?”

  She nodded, and the look in her blue eyes was grim. “Much.”

  Apprehension made the fine hairs on the back of Grant’s neck stand on end. He hadn’t really considered that aspect of things. He’d been so focused on the base population he hadn’t stopped to think how different they were. But now that Avery brought it up, he realized she was right. This bug, whatever it was, would burn through the chain-smoking, cheeseburger-eating populace with a vengeance. It was yet one more reminder of how crucial it was they contain this thing here and now.

  He gestured to the stack of folders next to her computer. “Have you had a chance to look at the medical records yet?”

  “Yes.” She leaned back in her chair and let out a small sigh. “Not that it’s done me any good.”

  “Is something wrong with the records?” Grant sat up and reached for the top folder on the stack. If they were incorrect or compromised in any way, he needed to know about it. He’d never had trouble with the staff before, but everyone had been so exhausted and stressed while treating the sick that mistakes may have been made.

  “No, they’re fine as far as I can tell,” Avery replied. “I just haven’t been able to find any information that looks like a smoking gun.” She smiled ruefully. “Of course, it’s never that easy.”

  Grant studied her a moment, noting once again the marks of her sleepless night. “Have you eaten yet?” He knew from experience that food and caffeine made a world of difference, especially when he’d gotten little to no sleep.

  “Ah, no,” she said, sounding suddenly guarded.

  “Aren’t you hungry?” He was determined to push against the walls she kept throwing up—it was the only way to make progress.

  She dropped her gaze and focused on the papers in front of her, apparently finding them fascinating. “I’m fine.”

  It was a lie and they both knew it. Grant opened his mouth, gearing up for the whole “breakfast is important” spiel, but he needn’t have bothered. Her stomach let out a loud rumble that made her blush again. She glanced up at him, her expression resigned. “Any chance you didn’t hear that?”

  He grinned. “Nope. Come on. You need to know where the mess hall is anyway.” Despite the seriousness of the situation on-base, they still had to eat.

  “I saw it on the map,” she said, but he could tell by her tone it was only a token protest.

  “And now you’re going to experience it firsthand.” He pushed his chair back and stood. Seized by a sudden impulse, he held his hand out, offering it to her to help her stand.

  Avery stared at it for a moment, and he could practically hear the thoughts churning in her head as she considered how to respond. Grant just stood there, hand outstretched, knowing if he pushed at all she would back away.

  Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Avery slipped her slender hand in his. The touch of her skin hit him like a jolt of lightning, and a current of sensation traveled from their jo
ined palms up his arm and into his chest. His body rejoiced, recognizing the familiar feel of her skin against his. It was something he never thought he’d experience again, and he relished it.

  Need slammed into him, and he wanted so badly to pull her close and embrace her. This small touch wasn’t enough to satisfy him—he wanted, needed more. But he forced himself to keep his grip loose. If he gave in to the desires coursing through him, Avery would run and never look back.

  She rose gracefully to her feet and slipped her hand from his. The loss of contact hit him like a blow, but he smiled, hoping Avery hadn’t noticed how much the brief touch had affected him. Bad enough his internal equilibrium had just been rocked—he didn’t need Avery to know that one soft brush of her skin had been enough to wreck the control he’d spent the last ten years building.

  He waited while she donned her coat and handed over her gloves and cap. “Where’s your gear?” she asked, zipping up the coat.

  “Hanging on a hook by the front,” he responded. “I’ll grab it on the way out. You can start keeping your stuff there, too, if you like.”

  “That would be nice,” she said, tugging the gloves on. “I haven’t been here long, but I’m already kind of tired of hauling all this stuff around.”

  Grant took his empty coffee mug to the sink and rinsed it, then set it on the rack to dry. “It is a lot to keep track of, but you’ll be glad you have it once we step outside.” He led her from the room and down the hall, pausing to shrug into his own gear. “Ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be.” If the look in her eyes was anything to go by, she was already starting to regret she’d said yes. Fortunately, her innate sense of manners would presumably keep her from backing out now.

  “Trust me, you’re going to enjoy this,” Grant promised. He shoved open the door and stepped into the cold rush of air. “Carter makes the best cheese omelet on the continent.”

  Avery lifted one eyebrow, the corners of her mouth turning up. “Quite an accomplishment, I’m sure. Although I doubt the competition is that stiff.”

  “You’d be surprised,” he said. He felt a little bounce in his step and realized for the first time since the outbreak he felt...hopeful.

  He slid a glance at Avery, her face barely visible under her knit hat and the hood of her coat. It was amazing how being around her had changed his entire mood. Even though she was clearly still upset with him, he found her presence calming. And she seemed to be softening toward him, little by little.

  He looked up at the cloudless blue sky and took a deep breath. The air was refreshingly cold, and the chill chased away the last vestiges of fatigue and made him feel ready to face the day.

  He was glad he’d taken the time to sleep; he was going to need all his energy to stop this bug.

  *

  Avery looked around as they walked, trying to match what she saw with the map she had studied so carefully on the plane over. She’d known on an intellectual level the base was fairly large, but actually seeing it in person gave her a whole new level of appreciation for the men and women who had built this place and who worked here today.

  Grant led her down what appeared to be the main thoroughfare—a wide, unpaved avenue lined with buildings. There was a surprising amount of color in the scene, as the buildings were painted in vibrant shades of blue, red, green and even orange. It gave the place a cheerful quality and she couldn’t help smiling to herself as they passed by.

  Grant noticed her expression and turned to see what she was looking at. “The colors,” she said. “I guess I didn’t expect so much color here. I thought it would be very...white.”

  “Ah.” He nodded in understanding. “I thought the same thing. Kind of a nice surprise, isn’t it?” He smiled at her, his cheeks dimpling in that familiar way she loved. Her knees wobbled reflexively, a reaction she could not control and wouldn’t bother trying to deny. It seemed that no matter what her brain said, her body was determined to throw good sense out the window where Grant was concerned.

  “It is,” she replied. They came to the end of the street and Grant turned right. Avery moved to follow him but then caught sight of the view spread out before them and stopped in her tracks.

  A thin dusting of snow covered the ground, shimmering in the sun like a carpet of diamonds. The land stretched out in front of her, curving in a gentle slope down to the water beyond, where she could see the waves lapping at the frozen shore. It was unlike anything she’d ever seen before, and Avery’s breath caught as the stark beauty of Antarctica sank in.

  For the first time, she could understand why people came here, why they were willing to stay for months on end. There was something so primal about the place, and yet the seemingly barren landscape was endlessly fascinating. Each dip and curve, each jut of rock and splash of water, they all added up to create a majestic vista that was almost too amazing to be real.

  She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, mesmerized by the view. Gradually, she became aware of Grant standing next to her, patient and quiet as she soaked it all in.

  He must have sensed when she came back to herself. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” he said softly.

  Avery nodded. “The word hardly does it justice.”

  He didn’t reply, and she appreciated his silence. There was no need for words just now, and he seemed to understand that as well as she did.

  After a few more moments, she turned to face him. “Thank you,” she said simply.

  He arched an eyebrow. “For what?”

  “For letting me have the view.” She shivered a bit, suddenly realizing how very cold it was. She’d been so enchanted by the scenery she hadn’t noticed the temperature, but now she was acutely aware of every frozen finger and toe. Grant was probably feeling the same way, and yet he hadn’t said anything, hadn’t tried to rush her along or encourage her to move. He’d simply stood next to her, waiting while she processed the magic and wonder of this strange place.

  It was a gift, made all the more surprising because she hadn’t expected it from him.

  “It was my pleasure,” he said. There was an odd note in his voice, but before she could catch a glimpse of his face, he turned and held out his arm. “We should probably get inside. I’m starting to feel a bit cold.”

  For a split second, Avery debated asking him if everything was okay. But Grant was right—it was cold, and she didn’t want to stand outside talking when they could be eating.

  They walked about a hundred feet before Grant stopped in front of a red building. He yanked open the door and ushered her inside, following close on her heels.

  The first thing Avery registered was the warmth of the place. It wrapped around her like an old, comfortable blanket, and she let out her breath in a sigh of relief. Her skin began to tingle as she started to thaw, a sensation that was both slightly painful and oddly pleasurable after the harsh temperature outside.

  She inhaled deeply, drawing in the tantalizing scents of freshly baked bread, hot coffee and frying bacon. Her stomach let out another rumble, and Grant chuckled softly behind her. “I think you’ll be able to find something you like here,” he said, leading her into a large room filled with dining tables and chairs.

  At the far end of the room was the kitchen area, and as they approached, Avery saw it was divided into several stations with different options presented at each location. The hot-food station offered scrambled eggs, omelets, pancakes and waffles. There was a large self-serve cooker of oatmeal nearby, complete with bowls of brown sugar, raisins and carafes of milk. A little farther down, she spied a cooler with yogurt and juices on offer, and next to that was a spread of fresh fruit laid out on chilled plates. The final station held baskets of muffins, bagels and slices of bread, along with a selection of jams and spreads. Overall, it was an impressive amount of food, and her stomach celebrated at the sight.

  “I can’t believe there’s fresh fruit here,” she murmured.

  Grant nodded. “We get deliveries every week during the summer,” he ex
plained. “There’s still a couple of weeks left before those will shut down for the winter. But some of the produce is grown on-site in the greenhouse.”

  “Impressive.” Her respect for this place just kept growing. Avery hadn’t had a lot of time to read about the ins and outs of daily life at the base before flying in, and she hadn’t known what to expect. But it seemed that things at the end of the world were really pretty normal, almost boring even.

  Except for the whole disease outbreak issue.

  She and Grant made their selections and he led her to an empty table in the corner, away from potential eavesdroppers.

  “So,” he said, smearing butter on his toast. “Since you didn’t find anything in the medical records, what’s your next step?”

  Avery took a bite of her omelet and closed her eyes in pleasure. Grant was right—it was excellent. She took another bite, savoring the combination of hot cheese and herbs, all wrapped up in fluffy eggs that practically melted in her mouth.

  She opened her eyes to find him watching her, his expression satisfied. “Told you,” he said, a little smugly.

  Yesterday, his attitude would have rubbed her the wrong way. But Avery couldn’t bring herself to be annoyed with him, especially after his display of patience while she dallied outside.

  It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours, and Avery already felt more relaxed around Grant. He exerted an almost magnetic pull on her, and it was so tempting to slide back into their old roles. They’d been good together once, and her nostalgia for that idyllic time in her life was a powerful force. Grant wasn’t making it easy to forget, either. She knew he hadn’t meant anything when he offered his hand to help her stand up, but just the brief touch of his skin against her palm had sent her heart rate soaring and had made her breath catch in her chest.

  Now his confident grin triggered an answering flutter deep in her belly. Once more, she was uncomfortably aware of Grant as a man, rather than a colleague. It was a trap she couldn’t afford to fall into.