Page 3 of Falling for the Recluse

I’m well aware, though. Especially since this is the third time I’ve read her email today.

Why I even read it once is beyond me.

I shift my gaze to the window. Ice crystals border the edges of the double-plexiglass panes. A vast sheet of white stretches out in the distance before falling off into the horizon. Mountains of ice line a ridge to the left, and jagged ice floes skim the water surrounding the rocky island.

Everything is frozen, hard, and inhospitable. Which is exactly the reason I like it here.

Alone.

I negotiated a job at the Needle Island Research Station to get away from people. Now one of them is barging in, a girl who sounds so upbeat and perky she probably believes in leprechauns, unicorns, and happy endings.

In other words, things that don’t exist.

I can bring you chocolate, Pop-Tarts, good soap and lotion, fresh fruit (not sure how it will survive the trip, but I’m willing to give it a shot!), or any clothes or toiletries you would like. You name it! Your wish is my command.

All my best, and looking forward to our meeting,

Josie Bennett

I hit the reply button, even though I have no idea why I’m even bothering to respond. I’d gotten nowhere in my attempt to convince the Penguin Research Group to hold the internship on another island, so it looks like I’m stuck with the girl for the next month.

She might as well know who she’s dealing with.

TO: Josie Bennett, Stanford University

FROM: Dr. Gavin Stark, Needle Island Antarctic Research Station

Ms. Bennett,

I neither want nor need anything that you can provide.

Though it’s good to know my wish is your command.

Gavin Stark

ChapterThree

GAVIN

A ship pushesthrough the gray waves, the steel-reinforced hull breaking the ice floes as it stops to anchor. An inflatable Zodiac lowers into the water, and several people disembark through the ship’s side gate to board the much smaller boat. A few minutes later, the Zodiac powers up and travels toward the island.

My jaw tightens. I pull on a pair of boots and a parka and go outside. Though it’s far below freezing, the temperature is nothing compared to the extremes of winter and whiteout blizzards.

I cross the icy pathway leading to the dock. Three heavily clothed figures climb out of the boat. None of their features are visible, but there’s no question which one is Josie Bennett—she’s much smaller than the two men and practically buried in a bright orange parka, a wool cap, and thick coveralls. At least she paid attention to the extreme cold weather outerwear requirements for Antarctic expeditions. She’d better be wearing layers underneath.

As I start toward them, my brain latches on to the thought of Josie Bennett’s possiblelayers. I shake my head to dislodge it. My boots rattle on the wooden pier.

Josie darts forward, her gloved hand extended. I can’t see her eyes behind her polarized sunglasses, but her blindingly white smile catches me off guard.

“Dr. Stark, I presume?” Her laughter echoes off the icebergs and glaciers like a bell. “I’m thrilled to finally meet you. I’m Josie Bennett.”

I had no intention of greeting her politely—she might as well know right away what she’s in for—but I find myself sticking my hand out. Even through our thick gloves, her handshake is firm and strong.

“I know it’s traditional for researchers to carry their own stuff in,” she says, her breath coming in plumes of white, “so if you’ll just point me in the right direction, I’ll hurry and get settled so I don’t disturb your routine.”

Yeah. Leprechauns and rainbows, all right. And a stuffed penguin named Oswald.

With a grunt of irritation, I stride past Thornwall and Kasper—the skipper and crewman—and grab Josie’s duffel, suitcase, and one of her travel bags.

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