Page 11 of Falling for the Recluse

“Careful, Dr. Stark.” I stand on tiptoe to kiss his chin. “Your reputation as the Beast of Needle Island is at stake here.”

I ease away from him. Over his shoulder, my gaze snags on the screen of my laptop. I gasp, my heart plummeting to my stomach like an anvil.

“Oh, my god.” I put my hands over my face as a burn scorches my cheeks. “Is my video chat open?”

ChapterSeven

JOSIE

We dart awayfrom each other so fast the air almost shatters. I veer out of the camera’s range, panic clutching my chest.

Gavin strides over to my laptop. Sure enough, the little red camera light is on.

I press my hands to my hot cheeks. Good god. What if one of my professors or the Penguin Research Group coordinator inadvertently saw—

“It’s okay.” Gavin lets out a long breath and taps a few keys to turn off the camera. “The application isn’t open. But you might want to keep the camera covered, just in case.”

With a groan, I lower my hands from my face, relief flowing through me. “Thank all the stars in the universe. That would have been quite a show.”

He shoots me a faint grin though tension lines his shoulders. My fear slowly ebbs.

“Hey.” I approach and rest my hand on his arm. “You’re not my boss. I mean, you’re in charge, but you’re not supervising my research. So it’s not like we’re breaking the rules by getting...”

Involved?That’s probably not the right word.

“Intimate,” I finally say.

“We’re not breaking any rules, but this isn’t what either of us was expecting.” He strokes my hair, rubbing a few strands between his fingers.

“Well, nothing in Antarctica is predictable.” I shrug. “So whatever we do is right in the spirit of the whole continent.”

I wink at him, and I’m rewarded by what looks almost like a full-fledged smile before he takes his hand from me and goes into the kitchen.

I turn, glancing over all the maps and graphs tacked to the walls. A long table in front of the windows holds his computers and equipment. The impressive and elaborate setup has state-of-the-art computers, three telescopes, two microscopes, electronic devices, and various machines, but what catches my attention are the screensavers drifting over all the monitors.

If I’d thought about it, I’d have expected Dr. Stark’s screensavers to be geometric or abstract shapes. Instead, bright and colorful images fill the screens—yellow sunflowers; lush, green forests; rolling hills covered in orange-and-red fall foliage; and a field dotted with an array of wildflowers.

“You want cream and sugar?” His gruff voice sounds behind me.

I turn. He’s standing in the kitchen doorway, holding a mug of coffee. He points at it.

“Yes, please.” I nod. “A tablespoon of cream and two sugars.” I wince after the request comes out. “Wait, I can get it. You don’t have to—”

But he’s already walking back to the kitchen. He returns and sets the coffee near my computer. “No cream. Only powdered milk here.”

“Of course. That’s fine.” I return to my computer, squashing the urge to ask him about the screensavers. They seem deliberate, as though he created a wall of color against the pure white of the Antarctic landscape.

Or they’re just the system default screensavers, which is a far more plausible explanation.

“Thank you.” I sit back down at my laptop and take a sip of the coffee.

Rather than going to his computer, he lowers himself into a chair close to my workstation.

“What’s in there?” He points his chin at the black bag I’d taken out of my backpack.

“The flipper tags.” I unzip the bag and remove a few metal tags, holding them out to him. “I’m planning to start tagging the penguins later this week. Tomorrow, I just want to observe, take photos, and get the cameras set up.”

He takes one of the tags from my hand. His fingers brush against my palm, sending a ripple up my arm all the way to my shoulder. He studies the tag and indicates my laptop.

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