Page 28 of Falling for the Recluse

“Well, I did—” She pushes her hood back, her eyes widening. “Oh, my god.”

I grin, pride filling me as if I’ve created the whole damn scene myself. “Nice, huh?”

“I had no idea.” She pulls in a breath and walks to the window, pressing her hand against the glass.“Gavin.”

The water is crystal-clear, teeming with schools of fish and marine life, and the ice formations above are like thousands of wild chandeliers painted green, gold, and blue by the sun. Platelet ice forms sculptures of spiky crystals. The whistles and chirps of Weddell seals echo in the chamber, and one of them sails past the windows, its rotund body moving with underwater grace. Bioluminescent creatures radiate blue, green, and violet lights.

I know Josie is teary-eyed before she turns to face me. Her awe and wonder bubble through every cell in her body.

“This is—” She stops and shakes her head, looking past me to a bright, glowing jellyfish floating upward. “I thought Antarctica was like another world, and then the glacier, but this…there aren’t any words.”

Yeah. I brush my fingers across her cheek. Sometimes there aren’t any words.

The sunlight spiking through the ice illuminates the ocean. Glittering rays create a kaleidoscope of colors and light, and sea anemones wave from the ocean floor.

“So much life.” Josie moves closer to the window, tilting her head back to look up at the roof of ice. “How many people even know there’s a whole world hidden under the ice? It’s like having access to a magic doorway.”

I turn to the other side of the chamber and look into the depths. She comes up next to me and takes my hand. Her skin is warm, her knuckles slightly chapped. I rub my thumb across them.

“Use some lotion when we get home,” I tell her absently, not realizing what I just said until a smile curves her mouth.

“I will.” Her voice is husky. “When we get home.”

My chest constricts, but I don’t release her hand. I can’t.

We stay in the chamber for a couple of hours, watching and listening to the life underneath the ice. Josie takes pictures and listens to my scientific explanation of platelet ice as if she finds it fascinating. She’s right that it’s a magic doorway, but nothing compares to the magic she created when she stepped off the boat onto Needle Island.

Finally we climb back out, putting on sunglasses against the glare. I replace and lock the tube cover, and we return to the field house. Home.

I don’t know if I’ve ever thought of it that way. If I do now, it’s only because of Josie. She could turn a rundown shack into ahomewith nothing more than her presence.

“That was one of the most amazing things I’ve ever seen,” she says, taking my hand again. “No wonder you love the ice so much.”

The tightness in my chest intensifies. I love the ice. But I also love warmth. Sunlight. Flowers.

And most of all,her.

ChapterFifteen

GAVIN

After a dinnerof lasagna and hot buttered rolls, Josie goes to her bunk to organize her equipment for our visit to the penguin colony tomorrow. I’ve learned more about the flightless birds from her in the past two weeks than I’ve learned in all of my thirty-three years.

I work for a few minutes on a paper about the surface mass balance of the Castille glacier, but my brain won’t focus. I’ve gotten used to Josie sitting across from me, writing her penguin observation reports and reviewing the camera footage. I can’t even concentrate without her nearby.

Pushing away from the table, I stoke the fire in the stove, then sit in an upholstered chair. I pick up a six-month-old newspaper and scan the articles.

“Can I bring you your slippers?” Her amused voice slides over me. “And your pipe?”

“No.” I toss the paper aside and crook my finger at her. “But you can bring meyou.”

“With pleasure, sir.” She crosses the room, looking like a tempting little flower in a pink fleece shirt and dark green pajama pants. She settles on my lap and rests her head on my shoulder.

And just like that, my world, my life,me…are all set right again.

“So I was thinking…” she murmurs.

“Aw, don’t do that.” I nuzzle her strawberry-scented hair. “Thinking is overrated. Trust me.”

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