Page 18 of Falling for the Recluse

Something twists hard inside me. I grab her around the shoulders, pulling her close and tucking her under my arm.

“Okay?” I ask gruffly.

“I’m just so happy.” She laughs, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. “This is the first time I’m seeing penguins outside of the zoo. They’re absolutely beautiful.”

Though that’s not the word I would use for the chunky little creatures, I love her happiness. I want to give her more of it.

Without thinking, I press a hard kiss on her mouth. “Go on, then. I’ll be here.”

Her smile lights up the whole beach. She takes her backpack from me and hurries to join the penguins.

I watch her go. I’m falling hard and fast. The impact will hurt like hell, but there’s no fucking way I’m getting off this ride.

ChapterTen

JOSIE

Ice Prick.Ha!

Underneath his forbidding exterior, Dr. Stark is the entire spectrum of heat—from warm to scorching hot and everything in between. Not to mention levels that are exclusive to him.

And I’m not exactly sorry the rest of the world doesn’t know the man behind the shield of ice. If people knew what he’s really like, they’d never leave him alone. As it is, he’s already in enough demand.

I don’t want the rest of the world to fight for more of Gavin Stark. I want him all to myself. Selfish? Yes, but true.

Aside from the fact that he shoots me right up into the stars—I’m still throbbing from what he did to me this morning—he’s just…well, “nice” isn’t exactly the right word, but he’s generous. Considerate. Tender, even, though he’d balk at being called that.

He’s controlling as hell, yes, but it turns out I don’t exactly mind being handled. And I love the contrast between his steely exterior and his chivalrous side. I love that he made me come, then reheated my coffee and cooked me breakfast. I love his low-key humor. I love that he pretended he doesn’t have anything else to do today so he could take me to the penguins.

I love—

Well. I just love being here.

I finish setting up another remote camera. I’ve spent the morning taking pictures of the penguins, recording observations, and just watching them in awe. A few fuzzy baby penguins are wandering around, though most of the eggs haven’t hatched yet.

The whole colony is utterly captivating—yes, the penguins are funny with their waddling walk and flapping wings, but they’re also a fascinating microcosm of nature and society.

They peck and preen, watch over their nests, defend their eggs from the large, predatory skuas, play, court, and fight. Their clumsy waddle turns fluidly graceful when they dive into the water and swim, porpoising through the metal-gray ocean and sliding on icy surfaces like dancers.

While I almost can’t believe I’m being paid to do this, I also know I was meant to be here. This is where my career, life’s work, and passion really begin.

This is whereIbegin.

I zoom in on a couple of baby penguins huddling at their mother’s feet. She lifts her wings to protect them from the cold wind coming off the ocean. Although the morning was sunny and somewhat warm—comparatively speaking—the temperature has been dropping throughout the day. The frigid wind is starting to pick up, bringing gusts of snow onto the shore.

I pull the neck gaiter up over my mouth and nose. Gavin’s musky, spicy scent clings to the fleece, and I inhale a deep breath like I’m pulling him into my blood.

His tall silhouette is visible on the ridge separating the field station from the penguin colony. Dark clouds have blotted out the sun. He’s looking out at the vast, gray ocean peppered with ice floes and bergs. A massive glacier looms on the opposite shore.

My heart constricts. He belongs here. He understands all the movements and nuances of this vast ice sheet. He knows the details of the life that exists on, inside, and under the ice. He’s studied the mountains, streams, and volcanoes. He can decipher an ice core to reconstruct thousands of years of climate history.

But how did the ice get inside him? Why did he let the cold freeze his heart—on the outside, at least? Why has he retreated from the world?

Squawking noises tear my attention away from him. A rotund penguin shuffles past, and I lift my camera to take a few pictures. A flurry of activity rises from the penguins near the shore, and they waddle hurriedly across the beach to their nesting areas. Fog boils over the water.

“Josie.” Gavin’s voice carries on the snowy wind. He’s descending the ridge toward me, moving rapidly around the rocks and the chaos of penguins. “Storm’s coming in. We need to get back.”

“Okay.” I turn to put my camera away. The approaching storm explains the penguins’ urgency to protect their nests. “I just need to pack up.”

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