Icebound (9 page)

“In order for you to be a card-carrying member there has to photographic evidence you participated.”

Emilie couldn’t help a bark of laughter that escaped her mouth. “Oh really?”

“Yeah, unfortunately there’s usually so much steam rising from all those hot bodies that you can’t make out a lot of details.”

“Pity.”

“You want to watch or participate?”

“Which are you doing?”

The grin that spread across his face was downright bad. “Oh, I’m running.”

Emilie hesitated. “Another coping mechanism?”

“It’s this or a free-for-all wrestling match. Which would you prefer?”

“Well, that’s no contest. I choose naked.”

“Music to my ears,” he purred.

“I don’t mean me,” she said, laughing. “One of us has to stay clothed to deal with any injuries resulting from all the fun.”

Tom stared at her for a moment then laughed from deep in his chest. “Nice save.” He checked his watch. “Better get your gear. The
fun
starts in five minutes.”

Emilie raced to the clinic, grinning like a fool, excitement giving her feet extra impetus. Just the thought of being involved in something so silly, so crazy, made her feel lighter.

“That’s the whole point,” she mumbled to herself as she grabbed a large first-aid kit and dashed back out the doors. She entered the gym, where a dozen or so crew members were in the process of disrobing and piling into the sauna. Others cheered them on with whistles and applause while taking pictures.

Tom strutted past her, nude, his muscles bunching and stretching in a rippling dance that snared her gaze. “Coming?” he asked with a challenging arch to one eyebrow.

“I’m not even breathing heavy,” she replied with wink.

He paused. “But you could be.”

“Tease.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He opened the sauna door. It was packed full.

Emilie glanced inside then yelled, “Okay, all you wingnuts, love your neighbor.”

Laughter greeted her words, but people obediently squeezed together, giving Tom just enough room to slide in and shut the door.

Sharon joined Emilie and held out her digital camera. “Look at these shots.”

Emilie’s brows rose at some of the pictures. “Nice.”

“Some more than others.”

“Question,” Emilie said to her. “How long do they stay in there?”

Sharon shrugged. “Not long. Whenever Tom decides they’re hot enough.”

“Have you done it?”

“Yeah, the last time I wintered over, two years ago.” Sharon grinned. “It’s a once-in-a-lifetime thing, you know?”

“Is it a story you’ll tell your kids?”

“Sure,” she said with a wide-eyed look. “When they’re older.”

“How far will they run?”

“Some dash outside and come right back in, others will run around the ceremonial South Pole and a few diehards might run all the way to the actual South Pole and back.”

“Those are the ones I have to watch for frostbite.”

“The year I did it, three guys had to be treated for frostbite on their hands.”

“That’s all?”

Sharon chuckled. “You’d think other
things
would fare worse, but it didn’t happen.”

“I wonder if I should start a scientific study.”

“Oh sure, take the fun out of it.”

The sauna door opened and Tom, hot, sweaty and downright tasty, led a string of naked bodies running out of the gym, down the hall, into the beer can and outside.

Emilie followed the group, but paused before leaving the station. Steam rose from the nude bodies as they hit the cold air, which instantly turned into an obscuring cloud.

Four of the streakers, all women, came back inside after only a few seconds, their skin red from the cold. One woman, wearing a balaclava, slipped and would have landed on her unprotected butt if Emilie hadn’t grabbed her arm. Emilie almost lost her grip on her because of a thin layer of ice coating her skin.

The woman grabbed Emilie, righted herself and whispered, “Thanks.” She hurried off down the hall and back to the sauna.

A minute later, five more prospective club members returned, having run all the way to the ceremonial pole and back.

But no Tom.

Five minutes later, the remaining four nude people stumbled in through the doors. All of them were shivering uncontrollably, their skin an unhealthy whitish-blue, with icicles hanging around their eyes, noses and mouths, or the holes of their balaclavas for those who wore them.

People offered hands of assistance, but Tom, in the lead, plowed through the crowd, past Emilie and straight for the sauna.

Biting her lips together to prevent laughing aloud at their lunacy, she trailed along in their wake. She opened the sauna door, but couldn’t enter because it was stuffed full. People were talking and laughing, making a quiet inquiry impossible.

She whistled loudly between her teeth. “Does anyone have a case of frostbite they’d like to report? I realize it may be hard to tell if you have one, given the amount of flesh exposed to extreme temperatures today, but you may want to check a few
sensitive
areas.”

People laughed, but no one spoke up.

“Last call, does anyone need immediate medical attention?”

A chorus of nos responded.

Shaking her head she said, “Come see me at Club Med if you need anything then.”

Emilie noted that a few of the men and women were checking each other out for injury. Some with a little extra enthusiasm.

Did the balaclavas make them feel anonymous enough to engage in sexual conduct they would normally never consider?

She located Tom, by his height, and gave him a quick once-over to see if he needed anything in particular.

He met her gaze with a smile, but it wasn’t like his usual teasing grin. Softer, deeper, like he was sharing a wonderful secret with her that no one else on earth could possibly understand.

Emilie took a deep breath—
well, hell
—and smiled back.

Thirty minutes later, the mood of the cafeteria line was triumphant. The newest members of the three hundred club regaled their friends with tales of their heroism while cameras were passed around so they could see the photographic evidence of their exploits. Guys, who barely an hour before had been ready to pummel each other, now congratulated one other and compared reactions to the intense cold and the anatomy of various female crew members.

“Distraction,” whispered a voice in her ear.

She turned to smile at Tom. “Saved the day?”

“Works every time.”

“Do you have a few more of these slightly insane antics up your sleeve? As the winter goes on, we’re going to need them.”

“Yep, lots. Did I ever show you the tricycles in the machine shop?”

“Tricycles?”

“Yeah, we have races, head-to-head.”

“Antarctica’s version of formula one?”

“Something like that.”

“Don’t tell me any more, I think I want to be surprised.”

He shrugged. “Whatever floats your boat.”

They got their food and sat down to eat, Tom choosing a seat next to her. Tyler, another run participant, and Barry, a beaker working on a weather project for the National Weather Service, joined them.

Barry couldn’t take his eyes off Emilie’s chest, which was weird because she wasn’t huge or anything. He kept staring and staring, all the way through the meal until finally Emilie waved at him and said, “Hello, I’m up here.”

His gaze focused on her face. “You look really hot today, doc.”

Emilie opened her mouth to tell him she wasn’t interested, but Tom beat her to it.

“Don’t bother, Monkey Boy, she’s with me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t threaten the children, dear.”

Tyler burst out laughing, but Tom’s response was to smile at her without humor. “Don’t worry, sweetcakes, I won’t hurt him. Much.”

“I told you she was off the market,” Tyler said to Barry.

He shrugged. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.” Food done, he got up to deposit his tray on the dirty rack then joined a group of three women. Tyler went with him.

“Tyler’s not the only one looking for love these days,” she said to Tom.

He didn’t respond, starting at his empty plate, a frown pulling his eyebrows down.

“Tom?”

“Huh, what?” He turned to look at her, his face blank.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just remembered something I need to do in the powerhouse.”

She opened her mouth to ask what it was, but Carol came up, waving her camera. By the time Emilie turned back to ask, Tom was gone.

Emilie didn’t think anything of it when she didn’t see Tom that evening, or even the next day, but three days later, she began to wonder where he was and what he was doing. She was supposed to report to him on a regular basis and vice versa.

Every department she called said he’d just left, so she finally left a message on his desk to come see her when he had time. When he didn’t show up or even call for another two days, Emilie decided it was time to find him.

Treating crew members with a variety of small complaints meant she had to wait until nearly 11:00 a.m. The powerhouse was first on her list, but he wasn’t there. Nor was he in the machine shop, the gym, any of the scientific areas or outside. She asked everyone she met a few questions, and discovered he wasn’t working his regular schedule and hadn’t participated in his usual extracurricular activities. Finally, she wandered down to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee, hoping it would help her think, when she heard his voice in the kitchen.

Emilie entered quietly and watched as Tom whipped up some batter in a bowl.

He glanced up and nodded at her. “Hey, Em.”

Hiding in the kitchen? “Hey, yourself. I’ve been looking for you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, for days. Why didn’t you check in with me?”

He shrugged. “No reason.”

She raised a brow. “I left a message on your desk.”

“Bad idea. There are messages there from last year that I haven’t read.” He put the bowl down, pulled a cookie sheet out from a cupboard and began dropping dough onto it.

She walked over to look in the bowl. “Chocolate chip?”

“Is there any other kind?”

That made her smile, but he wasn’t. His shoulders were tense, the lines around his mouth more pronounced than she remembered. Something was wrong, but his body language told her he wasn’t about to confess voluntarily. “Listen,” she said leaning toward him and lowering her voice. “I need to talk to you about a crew member. Can you come by Club Med after lunch?”

He met her gaze. Finally. “A problem?”

“I think so and it’s one I’d like to take care of before it gets worse.”

“I’ll be there.”

“Thanks, and bring some of those cookies, they look delicious.”

A hint of his old humor slid across his face. “I knew it. You’re just after me for my cookies.”

“Not true. I’m not
only
after you for your cookies.” She winked. “Later.” Mission accomplished, Emilie walked out of the kitchen, refreshed her coffee and headed back to the clinic.

Right at noon two people came in asking for help in dealing with insomnia, so she ended up eating Cup-a-Soup for lunch. When Tom arrived with a plate covered in cookies she nearly jumped him.

“Oh, thank God, I’m saved,” she said, devouring the first two with hardly a breath in between.

“What did you have for lunch?” he asked, chuckling.

“Soup on the run. I had patients to deal with.” She picked up two more cookies from the plate. “Have a seat,” she said waving at the chair in front of her desk while she sat on her rollaway.

“What’s the situation?” He leaned forward to brace his elbows on his knees.

“A Polie who’s distancing himself from others, showing signs of stress and avoiding any discussion of it. I suspect he’s dealing with insomnia as well, but have yet to confirm that. His productivity hasn’t suffered that I’m aware of, but I’m concerned.”

“Signs of depression are exactly what you should be looking for.”

“I’d like to prevent any further trouble and convince this person to deal with whatever’s bothering him. Have you dealt with this sort of thing before? What I specifically need to know is, if you employ any different strategies to combat this than what would be used off the Ice.”

Tom smiled. “You’re starting to talk like a real Polie now.”

She smiled back. “That’s because I am one. Advice?”

He shrugged. “Just take them aside and ask. No need to make a big issue out of things yet. Everyone deals with the isolation differently, maybe this person just needs to talk to someone or to try something new.”

“Like what?”

“Like a new hobby, joining the Tai Chi group or playing some chess with Bob.”

“Okay.” She paused, took a breath and said, “Tom, is there anything you’d like to get off your chest?”

He stared at her blankly for a moment. “I’m the guy?”

“Yep.”

“Come on, Em.”

“I’m not kidding. You’ve been avoiding me, you haven’t been participating in many of your usual activities and you’ve been working odd hours.”

“You’re keeping tabs on me?”

“Of course. But I heard a lot from people volunteering information. I’m getting lots of visits when so-and-so ticks them off or when the boss works a double shift for no reason other than he feels like it. No one else knows of my concern. I just put it all together.”

He sighed. “I’m doing great.”

“Tom, this is no time to placate me with what you think I want to hear.”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“But—”

“Em, you’re a great doctor, but you can’t fix what’s not broken.”

“Then why have you been working such odd hours?”

“I rotate through all the shifts every so often to make sure the place is running smoothly. I do the same thing with my off-duty time. These people are my responsibility. That’s why I’ll make cookies one day in the kitchen and help tear down a snowmobile engine in the shop the next. It’s my job, 24/7, eleven months straight.”

Emilie stared at him and winced. “I see.” Lovely, there was nothing wrong with him. “So, I’m overreacting.”

He shook his head. “Nah, I’m glad you bothered. It shows you care.” He stood and leaned over the desk. “Thanks.” He kissed her, just a short press of his lips to hers, something one friend would give to another. He backed away, his eyes bright and boring into hers, then swore, slipped a hand behind her head and kissed her again, this time parting her lips, his tongue surging inside to light fire to her blood.

Emilie moaned, her hands coming up to clutch his shoulders.

“I thought I could resist you, but I can’t,” he whispered as he released her mouth to nibble on her ear.

“What?” She pulled away, her stomach sinking. “So, you have been avoiding me?”

“Yeah, for all the good it did me.” He stared at her like a starving man at a banquet. “I want you.”

“I…” He was a confusing addiction, that’s what he was. She felt so close to him, wanted him with bone-deep need, but she couldn’t do this with him. Couldn’t deal with the pain she knew his eventual leaving would cause. He didn’t want her, not for real, not for more than what he could safely accept. “I can’t.”

He raised a brow.