Expedition of Love (3 page)

Turning to one of his students, he said, “Mr. Walters. Please inform the captain we are ready to depart."

"Yes, sir."

Deciding it was in the team's best interest to uncover the source of Professor Peterson's odd behavior, Stephen made his way to Edwin's cabin.

As he knocked firmly on the door, awaiting a response, the floor dipped and swayed slightly, pulling his attention away from his troubling thoughts. After waiting and planning for so long, they were finally underway. His stomach danced with anticipation.

It seemed that over the last two years he did nothing but wait. First for funds to be appropriated by the university, then for the unrest in Argentina to end, and finally for the Argentine government to agree to the removal of fossils, and at a ridiculous cost, but that was all in the past. In just under two weeks they would be arriving in Viedma, the capital of the Rio Negro Province and the entry point into Patagonia. He could hardly contain his excitement.

This was one of the reasons he had chosen to join the faculty at Graham University. A small college, but one that didn't dictate how he must teach or what he could research. He chuckled at the odd band of men who taught there, each diverse and uniquely superior in their various fields of study. The faculty would sorely miss Edwin's own special point-of-view once he retired.

A sliver of ice cut through Stephen's heart. That meant he would no longer have those momentary glimpses of Kristina Peterson, and she would no longer attend any of the university functions.

With a disconsolate sigh, he cast aside the disheartening thought and knocked on the door again. This time he was certain he heard movement from inside the cabin.

"Edwin, it's Stephen. I wish to speak with you."

The door opened, but it was not the professor who stood before him.

"Good afternoon, Doctor Baxter.” Miss Peterson smiled as she extended her hand. “A perfect day for sailing, don't you think?"

Although stunned by her presence, ingrained social decorum had him clasping her fingers lightly and bowing. His gaze lit upon the creamy back of her hand, and he felt the urge to press his lips to her skin, but propriety would not allow it. They barely knew one another.

As he straightened, their gazes met, hers sparkling with humor, his undoubtedly filled with confusion and wonderment.

The subtle shift of the ship broke the mesmerizing spell of her gaze, and he released her hand. “Miss Peterson, what are you doing here?"

"Unpacking.” She swirled around with the grace of a dancer and crossed the cabin. Removing several articles from a large trunk, she laid them neatly on the bed.

Although highly improper, he stepped inside to get to the bottom of this obvious misunderstanding. Or he would once his voice returned after her blunt statement. A statement that suggested permanence.

Taking two steps into the cabin, he froze. A bright beam of sunlight spilled through the porthole casting her in a fiery glow. He'd seen her only once before without a hat or some other adornment, but never in such perfect light. His fingers itched to pull the pins free and watch the auburn curls fall across her shoulders and caress the deep green fabric of her dress. He found it nearly impossible to be angry in the face of such beauty, but she did not belong here.

"Would you kindly tell me how you came to be on this ship?” he asked.

"I was invited."

"By whom?"

She looked up from her work and smiled. “By you, Doctor."

He opened his mouth once or twice, then replied, “I did not invite you, Miss Peterson."

"Oh, but you did, according to my father."

Running his hand through his hair, he paced the small area in front of the door wrestling with his growing temper. What on earth was Edwin thinking to bring a woman on this trip? They would waste precious time in returning to port, but he could see no other recourse. His schedule would be irrevocably damaged.

Miss Peterson stepped directly into his path, and he nearly plowed her down, as his mind remained focused on their dilemma.

Mumbling his apologies, he quickly grasped her arms to steady her. The top of her head barely reached his shoulders. He hadn't realized before how small and delicate she was. If he took her into his arms, he could easily rest his chin atop her head and breathe in the disarming scent of jasmine he'd come to associate only with her.

She lifted her chin and peered into his eyes. “Did you or did you not invite Kris Applegate to accompany you on this expedition?” she asked.

He nodded, noting how soft she felt, although the fabric of her dress kept his work-roughened hands from her skin. He knew he should release her and step back, but instead found himself taking in her features. Her flawless skin, her pert little nose, her full red lips, and the long dark sweep of her lashes over warm brown eyes. He'd never been this close to her before and had definitely never touched her in so familiar a manner, but he simply couldn't let her go.

She cocked her head to the side. “It may interest you to know, Doctor, my full name is Kristina Applegate Peterson."

His mind slowly broke free of the bonds she had on his senses and fit the puzzle pieces together. Kris Applegate was Kristina Peterson. The photographer half of New York was talking about and praising highly—was a woman. A beautiful woman who had no business being on a ship headed for Argentina.

"Excellent. I see you two have become reacquainted,” Edwin said, as he stepped inside.

Quickly releasing her, Stephen took several steps back. His hands tingled with the absence of her warmth. Clearing his throat, he firmly pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose.

"I'm afraid the association will be short. I'm on my way to ask the captain to come about and return us to port.” He strode to the door, determined to rid his expedition of Miss Peterson. If only his thoughts were so easily liberated.

Edwin stopped him with a hand on his arm. “You can't be serious? You yourself said we were pressed for time."

"I'm afraid I'm quite serious. A woman simply does not belong on an expedition.” Unbidden, his gaze returned to her.

Turning away, she muttered beneath her breath as she flung a garment onto the bed.

"Watch your language, young lady,” her father scolded.

She spun back around, her dark brown eyes black with rage. “If he wishes to behave like an arrogant ass, then I shall call him an arrogant ass."

"Kristina!"

She fisted her hands and propped them on her hips. “I'm sorry, Papa. But I warned you he wouldn't approve of this. He believes women are insipid creatures of little use other than decorating a man's arm or mothering children."

She turned her fury to Stephen, pointing a finger forcefully against his chest. “Well, I have news for you, Doctor Baxter. I happen to have a mind. One that has had quite enough of men believing it to be filled with fluff. I am an intelligent, learned woman who has more to think about than the latest fashions."

He grit his teeth against the powerful urge to take her into his arms. Even when enraged, she was breathtaking. Driving back his alarming thoughts, he concentrated on the problem at hand—a beautiful woman with a fiery temper and a rather insistent finger.

"I have never doubted your intelligence, Miss Peterson, but that does not change the fact that a woman is not suited to live in a tent on the barren plains of Argentina for more than two months,” he said with a steely tone.

To his total surprise, her ferocious frown turned to a crooked smile. Laughter bubbled up from her throat. A beautiful tinkling sound that sent his blood surging through his veins. She covered her mouth and looked at her father who smiled then chuckled with her.

Stephen's jaw clenched. “I fail to see the humor in this."

"I'm sorry, my friend,” Edwin said, clamping his hand on his shoulder. “You see, Kristina has made this trip before, and many others like it. She accompanied me on nearly all of my excursions and is more than acquainted with life in a tent. And under much harsher conditions than Argentina, I might add."

Stephen looked at the delicate young woman before him, unable to picture her skirts billowing around her as she sat on the ground digging in the dirt, the wind ripping at her hair, the laborious tools marring her soft skin with blisters. He shook his head.

"I know she doesn't appear to be a toughened explorer, but I assure you, she is. I can happily say she will surprise you.” Edwin eyed his daughter warily. “Hopefully not with any more of those colorful phrases."

"Somehow, I don't doubt it,” Stephen muttered.

Her hands clasped before her, she tilted her exotic face at a questioning angle. “Well, Doctor? Do I stay?"

He turned away, unable to think while looking at such perfection. Slipping his fingers beneath his spectacles, he pinched the bridge of his nose against the pounding in his head, trying to deduce how to handle the situation. He might say yes to their preposterous suggestion if he and Edwin were the only men on the trip, but they would not be alone. There were three other men on their team—single men. Each of which would unquestionably try to win her favor. A thought that did not sit well with him.

How could Edwin do this? Had he no idea how beautiful his daughter was? Did he not think that her reputation might be at stake?

"Come along, Stephen. It'll turn out all right, I assure you,” his friend said.

"And what of your daughter's reputation? Don't you think that placing her in the company of four unattached men with no female escort is a bit dangerous?"

"Nonsense,” she said. “With my father as my escort, I don't see any risk to my reputation. And I'm quite capable of taking care of myself."

Edwin waggled his long knobby finger at her. “Kristina, you will behave."

"Don't worry, Papa.” She patted the old gent on the cheek. “I won't shoot anyone this time. I promise."

Stephen's stomach lurched. “Shoot anyone?"

Edwin cleared his throat. “Ah, yes, well. I'll explain later. Just be assured she can most definitely take care of herself."

Out of arguments and with no control over the conversation whatsoever, if he ever had it to begin with, he numbly shook his head as Edwin guided him through the door. A keen sense of dread settled inside his stomach as he tried to assimilate the fact that a woman, a disturbingly attractive woman, would be in close company for the next three months. Disaster loomed on the horizon, and he would need to do everything in his power to keep it from interfering with the success of the expedition.

"Doctor Baxter,” she called.

He stopped and turned. The sight of her in the fading light eased the pressing sense of doom a fraction.

She looked up into his face with true warmth. “Thank you. You can't know how much this means to me and to my father."

He gave a slight bow. “You're welcome, Miss Peterson. I only hope I don't live to regret it."

She smiled enchantingly, forcing him to spin around and return to the deck. It was going to be a very trying journey.

Kristina slowly closed the door as she watched Doctor Baxter stride down the small corridor to the stairs. She knew he wouldn't care for this arrangement, but she couldn't help wondering if his reasons weren't what she'd originally assumed. That he was truly an arrogant, narrow-minded male, bent on keeping women in their place, rather than a gentleman concerned with her reputation.

Turning her gaze on her father, intending to quiz him about the man, she caught him grinning. “What are you up to, Papa? I recognize that look."

"Don't be ridiculous, my dear. I'm simply glad to see you were able to convince Stephen to allow you to stay."

"Hmm. Well, he isn't happy about it in the least. I wouldn't be surprised if he puts me on the first ship home once we reach Viedma."

"In that case, I suggest you win him over completely. You have two weeks to work your delightful charms on the man."

She let out a heavy sigh. So, Doctor Baxter was his latest chosen suitor. A man she had absolutely no interest in whatsoever, regardless of his intelligence, or his long legged stride and striking shoulders. Nor did she care about the way the man looked at her as he held her, or the extraordinary lingering heat on her arms where his hands had been, or the pleasing aroma his swift departure left curling in the air. None of those things mattered in the least.

Yet, she did wish to remain on the expedition, which meant she would have to assert herself and convince Doctor Baxter of her value to the team.

At least he didn't seem to have any interest in courting her, regardless of her father's apparent wishes. If anything, Doctor Baxter wished to be wholly rid of her. She feared they would, in all likelihood, go toe-to-toe with one another about her abilities, or lack there of, due to her being a
mere
woman. Battling the man the entire trip did not appeal to her.

And thinking of battles, her father would be a trying soul as well. She suspected he would do everything in his power to bring her and Doctor Baxter together. Well, she would have to be firm with him and simply state the facts.

"Papa, I am not interested in Doctor Baxter. I do not want a husband, today, tomorrow or next year. So you can simply forget your machinations to push us together."

"What rot and nonsense! I'm hurt you would think I would do such a thing."

"Ha!” She twirled around and resumed unpacking.

"However, I do like Stephen a great deal and if you should find yourself attracted to him, then I will not stand in your way."

She shook her head as she eyed him over her shoulder. “Oh, Papa. I love you dearly, but please stop worrying about me. I don't need a man to make my life complete. You've simply got to forget all those archaic ideas."

His defeated sigh saddened her heart, but he had to learn that it was her life to live as she chose.

"Will you try and win him over so you can remain on this expedition?” he asked softly.

"Yes. And as we both agreed earlier, blackmail is not an option. He must decide on his own, or the expedition will suffer.” She turned to her father at the touch of his hand to her shoulder.