His Surgeon Under The Southern Lights. Robin Gianna
appreciate that.”
Something about the expression in his eyes and the way he rocked back on his heels with his hands in his pockets struck her as slightly odd, and suddenly she knew why.
“It was you, wasn’t it? You’re the one who asked him to help me!”
“No. I asked Captain Stewart to see who might be able to give you a hand.”
“I don’t want to be treated differently from other people just because I’m a woman. It’s my job to—”
“Jordan. There are times to be independent, and times to let people help. And it has nothing to do with you being a woman.” His dark eyes met hers. “I already told you how many times I’ve been down here. If you don’t get your stuff off the boat on the first round, you’ll be waiting for it for another day or two. And since you wouldn’t know that, and you’ll be wanting to get the clinic and hospital set up as soon as possible, I figured I’d grease the wheels a bit so you’ll be ready in case of a medical emergency.”
A confusing mix of frustration and gratitude filled her chest. She did need to get everything set up as soon as possible, both because she had to begin doing baseline physicals on everyone who’d arrived in this first round, and also in case there was an emergency, as he’d said. But it sure seemed like the man was a little controlling.
She drew a deep breath. “I appreciate that, and admit I’ll be glad to have everything at the station. But I would have liked for you to have given me the heads-up so I could be the one asking the crew for help. As the station’s doctor, people need to know I’m fully capable of dealing with whatever I have to deal with here.”
“My apologies for not talking to you first.” He reached out to shake her hand, and even through her glove she could swear she felt the warmth of his hand clear down to her toes. “Good luck with your clinic setup—that’s going to be a big job. Don’t let that independent streak of yours keep you from asking me or someone else for help, okay? See you around.”
She held her now-empty hand in her other one and watched his long legs jog down the metal stairs of the boat, probably going below to the cargo area to get his own things ready.
What was it about the man that had her feeling all wound up? Slightly irritated and ridiculously attracted?
She blew out a breath. There was zero point in being attracted to him. He lived the kind of life she’d left behind. This trip was about caring for patients and testing her parents’ device, right? When the time came that she wanted to become interested in a man, it was going to happen back home in London. Period.
SATISFIED THAT ALL the scuba gear and other diving equipment had been scrutinized, confirmed to be in good working order and organized, Zeke moved on to get the new aquarium room built and everything installed that he and the other marine biologists would need for their samples. He’d never had to do this in Antarctica before. Usually, all the science stations had everything set up already, needing only some adjusting and tweaking.
But Fletcher Station was brand-new, and while starting from scratch would be a lot of work, it gave him a chance to create something better than what someone else had built. He got to work, and hours passed as he carefully set the rock work in place, then got the salt water prepared. Assembled the various hoses, filters and everything else the aquarium needed to support the marine life he’d be bringing here to study. He paused to stretch, pleased to be making good progress on this big job.
“Glad to see you’re halfway done here, so you can’t drag me into doing your work, and mine, too.”
Zeke looked toward the door. Bob Shamansky, who worked for the same Southern California university he did, stood there holding a cardboard box in his arms.
“I’m pretty sure it’s usually the other way around,” Zeke said. “You asking me to bring up who knows what from the seafloor for you to study instead of learning how to dive so you can do it yourself?”
“Why should I learn to dive when I have people like you to do it for me?” Bob grinned as he set the box on one of the long tables lining the outer wall. “Besides, you don’t fool me. Diving is your favorite part of the job.”
“One of my favorites, I admit. You don’t know what you’re missing.”
“I’ll stay in the lab and you macho types can go dive into dark ice-cold water—thanks, anyway.”
“Hey, I read about your latest breakthrough with a medicine you created through halogens in seawater. Treats neurological disorders, doesn’t it? Congratulations.”
“Thanks. Happy about it. Took me about five years from creation through the clinical trials to finally get it approved. Your samples helped make it happen, so congrats to you, too.”
Another reminder of why the work they all did here was so important, and Zeke’s fatigue slipped away as he turned back to the aquarium tasks. “What’s on your list of things for me to collect this time?”
“I’ll tell you about it after we get set up. This study is something totally new, and I’m pretty pumped about it.”
“Which I know means you’re giving me some tough jobs.” Zeke grinned. “You need help carrying anything in?”
“I’ve got a crew guy giving me a hand down in the storage hangar, then he’s going to help bring it here after the Ski-Doo training. Which I think I saw is in about an hour. Want to race?”
“We’d get in trouble with the station head for being a bad influence on the newbies.”
“Well, dang it. Since we’ll be at twenty-four hours of daylight in no time we won’t be able to race in the dark, so he can’t see us. Risking falling in a crevasse is such a thrill.”
“Says the man who won’t even go diving. You’re all talk, Shamansky.”
“True. I’m about as risk averse as they come.” He clapped Zeke on the back. “Going to grab my cart and bring it up. See you at the training.”
“You’ll be easy to spot, if you still wear that blue top hat over a balaclava.”
“I traded it in for an orange one this year. And something else, but you’ll have to come to the practice to find out what it is.”
Zeke shook his head and chuckled as Bob left the room, turning back to his work. Digging in the plastic containers he’d brought up here, he realized he didn’t have some of the tubing and filters he needed. A lot of his gear was still in the storage hangar, but several of the boxes were crammed beneath his bed.
He glanced at his watch. Since his cabin was about halfway between here and where they’d be conducting the Ski-Doo practice, he might as well see if what he needed was there to save time on his way back. He made his way through a covered, aboveground bridge that connected this building to Pod B where he’d be bunking. He moved down a hallway past rows of doors until he found his small cabin. With one single bed, a small table he used as a desk and built-in closet for clothes, it was comfortable enough. Good thing, since he’d be calling this place home for the next six months.
Home. He tried not to think about the home where he’d grown up. That it didn’t exist anymore, and neither did his parents. Or the other two people he’d loved and who’d raised him after his parents died. Home was San Diego now, or at least as much of a home as he ever wanted to have again.
But there was no point in going over all that again. He’d learned what he’d had to about himself from that horrible experience, and would never forget.
He rolled up the shade covering the small window so he could look out over the ice fields beyond. In the summer months of endless sun, the light-blocking shades were essential to a good night’s sleep,