by Pamela Clare
Samantha was still irritated about his actions last night. “It’s about Patty.”
“Sorry about last night.” He held up Patty’s ring. “I shouldn’t have grabbed this, and I shouldn’t have tried to take her journal from you.”
“I appreciate the apology. Keep the ring. She cared about you.”
Lance closed his fist around it. “Thanks.”
Vasily and his crew drifted in, looking like they’d had too much to drink and too little sleep. He went to stand at the back and waved to her.
She had a hard time waving back. If they were involved in hacking the satellite, that would make them partly culpable for Patty’s murder.
“That’s everyone.” Hardin walked to the front of the room. “Yesterday, we got word that the medical examiner ruled Patty’s death a homicide. Methanol poisoning.”
Gasps. Shocked faces. Whispers.
Samantha’s gaze moved over the faces, saw nothing but shock. Kazem. Charli. Jason. Ryan. Decker. Wei. The metal-working guys.
Kristi stared wide-eyed at Samantha. “Oh, my God!”
Lance leaned closer. “Did you know? Is this why Kristi gave you a sedative?”
Samantha ignored his question. “Shh. I’m listening.”
“In response, the NSF and the US Marshal Service have asked our security friends from Cobra to investigate. I’ve assured them they’ll get your full cooperation. This morning, they were deputized by the Special Deputy US Marshal at McMurdo. This gives them full law-enforcement authority on station. Do you want to say something?”
Thor nodded. “We’ll be asking you all some questions in the coming days. In the meantime, the NSF has put together a list of new regulations for the station. No more alcohol sales. Curfew at ten each night. No one in the ice tunnels or service arches who doesn’t work there.”
“Curfew?” Jason blurted. “Why a curfew?”
Thor didn’t bother to explain. “One of you—someone sitting in this room right now—murdered Patty. You gave her this bottle of wine after poisoning it with methanol. Yes, we’ve tested it. If any of you saw or heard anything unusual, please tell us. Patty was your friend and colleague. Help us catch her killer.”
11
If Thor had ever felt unequal to a task, it was now. He was used to acting when there was a crisis, not sitting around and talking. Give him a blizzard, a dog fight, an aggressive polar bear, his sled falling through sea ice, an enemy pointing a rifle at his head, an incoming grenade. He could handle those things.
But a murder investigation?
They knew how Patty had been poisoned, but they had no idea who the killer was or what exactly had driven that person to take her life. Shields had cautioned him against making assumptions—or excluding anyone, including Samantha.
“Don’t share your progress with anyone. People living in a situation like this one develop close friendships. Everyone trusts everyone. Anything you say could get passed on to the killer.”
“I understand.”
He, Segal, and Jones had divided up the staff and had interrogated every person on station, asking them all the same questions, recording their answers and taking notes. There had been a few confessions. One of the fuelies—a guy in his forties—was fucking around on his wife, who was back home, with Analise Weber, a kitchen worker in her twenties. The guy who ran the aquaponics greenhouse had smuggled in marijuana seeds and had a few plants in a secret grow operation in the back. Charli had taken books from the Quiet Reading Room, read them, and failed to return them.
Some people had their own theories. Lance said it had probably just been a bad bottle of wine. Ryan wondered if it might have been an accident, though how methanol could accidentally end up in someone’s wine, he didn’t know. Hardin and Wei had both wondered if it had been suicide.
Unsurprisingly, no one had admitted to killing Patty. More than that, no one had seen or heard anything unusual that night.
It had taken more than eight hours to interview everyone. Then Thor, Jones, and Segal had scanned their notes and uploaded both the scans and the recordings to Cobra’s servers for Shields and the other analysts to study. The analyst team would cross-reference people’s stories and look for holes and pieces that didn’t fit.
Shields had already given them one bit of news. Vasily was former KGB, just as Thor had suspected. Whether he was actually a scientist or whether he now worked for the FSB—Russia’s Federal Security Service—only Vasily knew.
All Thor wanted now was a drink—a beer, some whiskey, maybe cognac.
“Anyone else feel like we’re stuck in a three-dimensional game of Clue?” Jones asked. “It’s someone with a bottle of poison wine at the South Pole. But who?”
“That’s the question.” Thor sent his last scan and glanced at his watch. “I’ll meet you two in the galley. I need to escort Dr. Park back to the station.”
He left Jones and Segal to finish and layered up. “Samantha, this is Thor.”
She replied quickly. “Samantha here.”
“I’m on my way to walk you back.”
“Okay. I’ll be ready.”
She’d been out there by herself today. There hadn’t been much choice, given the need to interview the staff as quickly as possible. Thor had checked in on her periodically, and she had kept the lab door locked, promising to call him on the radio if anyone came knocking.
He stepped outside, the cold reviving him, a chill wind helping to clear his head. The stars glowed above, the aurora flaring and ebbing across the sky, a tide of green.
Nature made sense. But not human beings. They were the only creatures capable of intentional malice.
He found Samantha waiting for him just inside the door.
She turned off the lights, put on her mask, and stepped outside. “How did it go?”
He started down the stairs, Samantha behind him. “I can’t talk about it.”
“Right. Sorry.”
“How’s the Cosmic Microwave Background?”
“I had a hard time concentrating. I couldn’t stop wondering who poisoned the wine. I guess I freaked myself out. Every little noise made me jump.”
Thor could understand that. “Knowing there’s a murderer here has put everyone on edge.”
Especially the killer.
Whoever they were, they had to know they were out of time.
“All I want right now is some supper, a glass of wine, and an hour in the sauna. Sitting at the computer all day makes my neck stiff and gives me a headache.”
“Sorry about the headache. How about two out of three—dinner and the sauna?”
“I’d like that.”
But when they walked into the galley together—he, Samantha, Segal, Jones, and Kristi—the room fell silent.
“Do you feel like they’re all giving us side-eye?” Kristi whispered.
Thor leaned down. “You and Kristi shouldn’t sit with us. It might make people think you’re getting special treatment.”
It was probably a bad idea for them to be seen together, which put a damper on Thor’s plans. He hadn’t forgotten how sweet it had been to kiss Samantha. He’d meant what he’d said. They weren’t finished.
But a lot of shit had happened since then, and his role here had changed. Until the killer was exposed, he needed to keep his distance from her.
Fuck.
Of course, the sauna was public. Anyone could walk in. But if he and Samantha just happened to be there at the same time…
Samantha brushed her teeth, combed her hair, and tried to decide. Bathing suit or towel? The bathing suit had padded cups and made her look curvier, but it also made her seem inhibited—which she was. Also, if by some miracle, Thor undressed her, he would discover how much was padding and how little was truly her. She should do what most people did and just wrap herself in a towel.
Make up your mind!
Thor was in the sauna. Right now. Waiting for her.
The thought sent excitement shivering through her—and made her
nervous.
Of course, there was no guarantee that Samantha would be alone with him. And even if she was, it’s not like they could just pick up where they’d left off. If someone walked in and saw them kissing, the entire station would know within hours.
Even so, she wanted to be with him. In all this chaos, he was the one person who’d gone above and beyond to support her.
So, bathing suit or towel?
You need to lighten up, be brave, let yourself go.
It was something Patty had said to her so many times over the years—when Samantha had been reluctant to try sushi, when she’d refused to join in karaoke night, when she’d turned down an invitation to go sky-diving.
Patty had always been the outgoing one, the brave one, the true adventurer.
You can do this.
Samantha picked up her bathing suit—and dropped it on her bed. Before she could change her mind, she slipped into her bathrobe, armed the security camera, and made her way down the hall toward the women’s changing area. There, she traded her robe for a towel, wrapping it around herself and tucking the ends in between her breasts. Then she left the changing room and walked around the corner to the sauna, holding tightly to the towel.
Through the small window in the door, she saw him.
Oh. God.
He sat, towel low on his hips, his head leaning back, his eyes closed, one long leg stretched out in front of him, sweat glistening on his skin.
Why was a man like Thor paying any attention to her?
Don’t ask. Who cares?
She opened the door, stepped across the threshold and into the heat.
His head came up, and his eyes opened, his gaze moving over her. “Hey.”
“Hey.” She went to sit beside him, the wood hot against the backs of her thighs. “The heat feels good.”
“It does.”
“I thought there would be others here.”
“There were until I showed up. When I walked in, they got up and left.”
“I’m sorry. I know how it feels to be rejected. That was every day of my life in high school.”
“It’s fine with me. I’d rather be alone with you.” Thor sat up straight, motioned for her to turn around. “Let’s take care of that headache.”
Headache? Oh, yes. She’d forgotten about that.
She held fast to her towel and turned her back to him.
He angled himself toward her, scooted closer, then gathered her hair, letting it spill over her shoulder, his fingers brushing against her nape, sending shivers through her. Big hands came to rest on her shoulders. “Your muscles are so tight.”
Samantha couldn’t help but moan as he found all the knots and tight places, his hands working magic. “Mmm.”
A week’s worth of stress and worry seemed to melt away beneath his touch, replaced by a different sort of tension, desire fluttering to life inside her.
He skimmed his hands down the length of her bare arms, his lips pressing hot kisses to her shoulder. “I can’t promise you anything, Samantha. I’ll be leaving soon. I’m not the kind of guy who gets married and settles down in the suburbs.”
“I know.” Nothing he’d said surprised her. “I appreciate your honesty.”
Hookups down here didn’t last. Everyone knew that. He didn’t seem like a man who wanted a conventional life. If a little heartbreak was the price she had to pay for feeling like this, she would pay it—gladly.
“I meant it when I said we weren’t finished.” He teased her with feather-light kisses, heat searing her skin where his lips touched her.
“I… I hope so.” Samantha’s breath caught, her eyes drifting shut.
Then one hand moved to cup her right breast through her towel.
“See?” He nuzzled the sensitive skin beneath her ear, his voice deep and soft. “You fill my hand.”
She opened her eyes, watched as he gently squeezed, his thumb rubbing over the bump in the terrycloth that was her nipple, making her belly clench. She arched into his hand, giving herself to him, wanting more. “Thor.”
Usually, she was too nervous to enjoy a man’s touch, especially in the beginning of a relationship, but that wasn’t true with Thor. She sank back against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder, his broad chest seeming to cradle her.
Voices.
Someone was coming.
Thor muttered something she didn’t understand and drew away. “Can I come to your room?”
Samantha stood, moved toward the door, her heart thrumming as she weighed her answer. Would she be making a mistake? Would she regret it? He wasn’t going to be here much longer, and she would probably never see him again.
You need to lighten up, be brave, let yourself go.
She would rather regret sleeping with him than spend the rest of her life wondering what she’d missed. “Yes.”
She stepped out of the sauna, passing Ryan and a few of his firefighter buddies as she hurried back to the changing room.
Thor took a quick shower and brushed his teeth. Then he dressed—jeans and a T-shirt—and tore through his gear, looking for his packet of condoms. “For helvede.”
Damn it!
He always carried some—just in case. Had he somehow unpacked them?
No, they were in his shaving kit.
He grabbed them, slipped two into the pocket of his jeans together with his phone. Then he armed his security camera and started toward the door, hesitating when his hand touched the doorknob.
What happened to your self-control, man?
He shouldn’t do this.
He was in charge of a murder investigation, and he couldn’t allow personal connections or hormones to interfere with his work. Although he knew Samantha hadn’t killed Patty, he couldn’t prove that. She, like everyone else, was still a suspect.
More than that, he didn’t want to hurt her. He wasn’t going to be here for much longer. How would she feel when he got on a plane and left her life forever?
She was vulnerable, alone at the bottom of the world, her best friend murdered, her life turned upside down. She also didn’t have a lot of sexual experience. Hell, he wouldn’t be shocked if she told him she was a virgin.
No, he shouldn’t do this. It was reckless. It wasn’t like him at all.
But Samantha had lit a fire in him that he couldn’t put out with her intelligence, her directness, those blue eyes, her dancer’s body. The way she’d reacted when he’d cupped her breast through the towel, arching against him…
He thrust away his doubts, opened the door, and made his way upstairs, careful not to be seen as he stopped outside her room.
Last chance to do the right thing.
Samantha was the right thing.
He knocked lightly.
Still wearing her bathrobe, she answered right away and let him inside.
He locked the door behind him, their gazes meeting, the sexual hunger he felt mirrored in her eyes. He dragged her against him and ducked down to claim her mouth with his, gratified by her little gasp of pleasure.
Fuck, yes.
She melted against him, yielding to his kiss, her body pliant, eager.
He willed himself to slow down, gentling the kiss, brushing his lips over hers, nipping them with his teeth, tracing their outline with his tongue. She tasted so good and felt wonderful in his arms, his second thoughts vanishing as she kissed him back.
He let her take control, her tongue teasing and tasting his, her hands sliding behind his neck, drawing him down. He gave her what she wanted, his need for her rising as she grew bolder. Then he realized she was standing on tiptoe.
To hell with this.
He broke the kiss, scooped her into his arms, and carried her all of two feet to her bed, sitting her down on the edge. He had to ask. “Are you sure you want this?”
She looked up at him, pupils dilated, her lips wet and swollen. “God, yes.”
He wanted to strip off that shapeless bathrobe and whatever she had on under it and get down to s
weet skin, but he remembered that she felt self-conscious about her body. Maybe if he got naked first, she’d feel more at ease.
He drew his T-shirt over his head, dropped it, watched longing spread on her face as her gaze raked over him. Yeah, she liked what she saw and—no lie—it turned him on even more, his cock threatening to split his zipper now.
He took her hand, pressed it against his chest, held it there, offering himself to her. “You can touch me however you want.”
She sucked in a breath, her other hand joining the first as she ran her palms over his pecs, down his ribcage, over his abs, and back to his pecs, her thumbs running over his nipples, her touch like fire. “I’ve never met a man like you.”
He pulled the condoms out of his pocket and set them on her headboard. Then he yanked down his zipper, kicked off his shoes, and stepped out of his clothes. Then he stood there before her, naked, his cock fully erect.
Her gaze went right where he knew it would, right where it had been the night he’d gone streaking on the ice.
But this time she reached out, took him in hand, stroked his length with cool fingers, her touch making his cock jerk. “Show me what you like.”
He covered her hand with his, stilled it. “I’d rather learn about you.”
Her gaze snapped to his, a hint of nervousness there. “I’m not special.”
“Who put that idea in your head?” Thor wanted to punch the guy.
“Well, I…”
Thor pushed her robe over her shoulders, let it fall to the bed. “Åh, skat.”
Oh, sweetheart.
She was naked, nothing beneath the robe but silky skin. Her body was delicate, her breasts small but perfect, their pink tips puckered and tight, a thatch of dark blond curls between her thighs.
“You’re beautiful, Samantha.”
She started to shake her head, pink rising into her cheeks, but he caught her chin.
He looked straight into her eyes. “You’re beautiful. I mean that. Do you think I’d be standing here, naked, with my cock about to explode, if I didn’t truly want you?”