Icebound (6 page)

Emilie tried to hide a smile. “I was going to offer you a chair.”

“Oh, sorry.” He ran a hand through his short hair. “Sure, a chair might be a good idea. Don’t know how long it might be ’til he wakes up.”

“It may be a while.” She rolled her desk chair over to him, and he dragged it to Stan’s side and sat.

She grabbed the only other chair in the room and brought it over to the other side of the gurney.

“Should we move him to a bed?” Tom asked, his gaze on Stan’s face.

“Until he comes around, I’d rather he was right here where I…we…can keep an eye on him.”

Tom nodded.

“How long have you known him?”

He sucked in a deep breath. “About ten years. We met on a job in Taiwan. After my first winter-over on the Ice, he decided to give it a try and liked it too.” A chuckle escaped him and he smiled, but the moment didn’t last.

She watched Tom’s face slide into frigid sadness.

“Stan reminds me of my favorite uncle,” she said. “The guy is a truck driver and the life of the party. But if you want something done, you call him and he’ll get it done.”

“Yeah, that’s Stan.” Tom’s lips pressed together. “But, will he still
be
Stan when he wakes up?” He turned his head to look at Emilie. “Did we get to him in time?”

“He was suffering from brain swelling, but hypothermia isn’t all bad when it comes to that. The cold can actually help slow down the effects of cerebral edema.” She stood, pulled her penlight and checked Stan’s pupil reactions to the light. “Normal.”

Judging from the tension in his jaw, her words didn’t make Tom feel any better. “We’ve done all we can,” she said. “It’s up to Stan now.”

Tom grunted. “The big moron knew better than to go anywhere alone.”

“Did he get separated from the group he was with?”

“They stayed within eyesight of each other for the first twenty minutes. It was another ten minutes before anyone realized Stan wasn’t with them anymore.”

“The conditions outside, were they changing?”

“Yeah, winds were picking up, barometric pressure was going down, not much, but…” His voice trailed off. “Air pressure was going
down
.”

“Coupled with the lack of sleep, stress…that could’ve triggered a physical response.”

Tom cradled his head in his hands and swore.

“It’s not your fault,” she told him.

He shook his head.

“No. Stop. Don’t even
try
to go there,” she said with a growl. “I’ve been living with guilt for more than a year and I can tell you with complete certainty that you could
not
have foreseen this.”

He skewered Emilie with eyes that radiated anger. “It’s my job to foresee problems and hazards. The way things have been going this week, I should be fired.” He stood and strode away, but stopped before the doors, his hands fisted at his sides.

She went to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “I’d hire you back in a second.”

He turned to face her. “Why?”

“Because you’re honest and you care. If the problems this week happened because of neglect or stupidity, I’d say, yeah, you’re fired. But they didn’t. Life here is hard.” She attempted to wrap her hands around his biceps, but they were too thick. She hung on to him anyway, and tried hard not to notice his warm strength. “Someone very wise explained it to me this way. Gravity works here, but that’s about it.”

“Funny.”

“Come on.” She tugged him toward Stan.

Tom sat again and stared at his boots. “I hate this.”

“What?”

“Waiting.”

She put her hands on her hips. “You’re a fixer, aren’t you?”

“A fixer? For what, your car? The plumbing?”

“No. People.”

“I wish. I can’t even fix myself.”

“Can anyone?”

He looked at her. “I suppose not.”

“I rely on my family and friends to keep me honest.”

“Friends, yeah, but family…” He shook his head. “Not mine.”

“You’ve got lots of brothers and sisters, surely there’s one you—”

“No.”

He had no one? “Your parents?”

What came out of his mouth was a grim parody of a laugh. “My mother never made a move without my father’s permission, and my father never gave it. To any of us.”

She swallowed a mouthful of regret. No one should have to grow up like that. “I’m sorry.”

His shoulders dropped and he seemed to fall in on himself. “Yeah. Me too.”

Tom was wrong. This was something only he could fix, but first she had to get him to admit he could. “Do me a favor? Check Stan’s vitals.”

“Handling me again, Em?”

She picked up the thermometer and held it out. “Would you expect any less?”

He stood and took it. “Nope.” He turned to Stan, then turned back and enveloped her in a hug. “Thanks.”

“Talk to him,” she whispered, hugging him back. “About anything, just talk. Let him hear your voice and know he’s safe.”

“Okay, I can do that.” Tom let her go, but not before kissing her temple. A soft, lingering press of lips that made her breathing speed up ridiculously fast.

He backed up a step then said to Stan, “Okay, big guy, time to check your temperature.”

She watched Tom talk to Stan quietly, checking his vitals, telling him about the merry search he’d led the crew on, how even Emilie tried to go look for him.

He rested one hand on Stan’s shoulder. That’s when she realized Tom’s face was wet with tears.

Watching him mop the moisture from his face, not trying to hide the tears, not ashamed of showing his feelings, Emilie understood something fundamental about Tom. He wasn’t afraid of showing vulnerability, something David would never have done. He’d been in competition with his friends for everything. Work or play, it didn’t matter. While her husband might have watched over a friend in hospital, he wouldn’t have done it with his emotions hanging out. Shedding tears was the wife, mother or sister’s job.

She’d thought the two men were the same, but now the differences seemed vast. A relief in some ways, in others…she wasn’t sure how to feel. She thought she had Tom all figured out—just another intelligent adventure addict with a side order of leadership skills to make the mix interesting.

But he was more than that. Much more.

As the hours passed, Emilie watched Tom’s face grow pale, his eyes sunken and almost black as he stood vigil over his friend. Steadily, Stan’s body temperature rose until it was once again within the normal range.

The blackening tips of his bandaged hands worried her. Would there be long-term consequences due to his mishap? Nerve damage, infection and amputation loomed large on her radar, but the effects of brain swelling also needed to be investigated.

She could only do so much with the equipment on hand.

Tom knew it. He stood next to Stan, rubbing the other man’s shoulder, when a weak, wavering voice broke the silence in the clinic.

“Hey, what’s with the frown?”

“Stan?” A huge grin spilled across Tom’s face, transforming him, giving him new life. For a moment, he just stared. Then he cleared his throat and said, “Looking at you for a few hours straight would be hard on anyone.”

Stan frowned. “A few hours?” He glanced around. “Why am I in Club Med?”

Emilie arrived on the other side of his gurney with her digital thermometer and stuck it into his ear. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

The question seemed to confuse Stan. “Breakfast?” He looked from Emilie to Tom. “Why? What happened? What am I doing here and why do I feel like crap?”

“You went outside with a team to fix some wires,” Tom told him, “and got lost. You were well on your way to becoming a permanent snowman before we found you.”

“I don’t remember,” Stan said, shaking his head.

“Don’t worry too much. Your memory should return.” She smiled at them both.

Tom patted Stan’s shoulder and grinned anew. “Damn, but it’s good to hear you talking.”

“Remember you said that the next time you complain about my singing.”

Tom laughed, his eyes sparkling, and something locked deep inside Emilie broke free.

Hope and joy, all wrapped up together. A bright bubbling mass of jubilation loosening the restraint, the hold she’d placed on her emotions.

She gasped, but both men were too distracted to notice, giving her a chance to try to stuff all those dangerous delighted feelings running rampant back inside that tiny dark corner of her heart.

They eluded her, slipping out of her grasp, and Tom’s unabashed laughter cemented their escape.

She panted, panic speeding her breathing and heart rate. She couldn’t deal with them now, not when she had patients to look after, not when the man who caused them to escape was standing right in front of her, so alive and happy.

She
was alive and happy. Something she hadn’t felt in a very long time.

Guilt’s grasping hands grabbed hold of her neck and choked her.

Just keep moving, keep breathing, keep doing the job.
That was all she had to do. All she could do. She was here to do a job and put the past behind her. Nothing more.

Emilie felt like she was balancing on the tip of a flagpole, blindfolded.

The drop to the ground was long, dark and lonely.

At 6:00 a.m. station time, Emilie pronounced Stan out of danger and they moved his gurney into a narrow space next to Jack’s hospital bed. By seven Stan was stable and sleeping.

“We both need to sleep,” she said to Tom in a no-nonsense tone. She was prepared to make it a medical issue if she had to, but the man was going to bed. Now.

“Things look quiet,” he said, staring at Stan and the other two injured men.

“Who do you suggest I ask to babysit?”

“You better not let them hear you call it that.” He angled a thumb at her three patients.

She glanced at the men. “I can take it.” She refocused on Tom, whose eyes were black again. Was he even aware how tired and stressed he appeared? “Can you?”

His smile twisted. “I’ve never not handled it before.”

“Fair enough.”

Tom turned to look at her. “Sharon has slept and she’s got advanced first aid.”

“Sounds ideal,” Emilie said, yawning.

A grin blossomed on Tom’s face as he headed for the phone. “Look who’s tired. I thought all you doctors were used to long hours.”

Emilie barked out a laugh. “Required to work long hours, yes. Used to it, no.” She rested one hip on her desk and waited for Tom to finish his call.

“Sharon will be here in a minute,” he said after he hung up, strolling over to stand close to Emilie. He glanced over his shoulder at Stan. “Are you sure we can leave him?”

“We’re not leaving him, Tom, he’ll be in good hands. He’s in pretty good shape, considering how cold he was when he came in.”

Tom met her gaze. “Will he keep his fingers?”

She looked away. “I’m not sure.”

“Uh-huh.” He let one eyebrow rise to express his disbelief. “Want to give me a real answer now?”

She sighed. “I think he’s going to lose a couple on his left hand, the pinkie for sure and probably his ring finger.”

Tom’s stance loosened. “That’s all?”

“I think so. We’ll see how his hand looks in a few hours. Then tomorrow, and the next day.”

Tom released a deep breath and nodded. “That’s good news.”

“You thought it would be worse?”

He swallowed, his mouth tightening. “I was afraid he’d lose the whole hand.”

“Is that the only thing you’re afraid of?”

“Isn’t it enough?”

The doors to the medical center swung open and Sharon bounced in. “I’m ready to work.”

“Isn’t it against station rules for anyone to be so energetic this early in the morning?” Emilie asked Tom.

“No, but I can change that.”

“Yes, please,” she said with a yawn. “Quickly.”

She filled Sharon in on the center’s three patients, instructing her to call Emilie in three hours to change the saline on all three IVs, or sooner if their vitals took a nosedive.

“Let’s go, imperious leader,” Emilie said to Tom when she was done. “We need our beauty sleep.”

“Nah, I’m handsome enough as it is.”

“Come on then, handsome, it’s time to get some shut-eye.” She winked at Sharon. “See you later.”

“Sleep tight, don’t let Tom bite.”

Emilie snorted as she pushed the door open. “Like he’s ever going to get the chance.”

Tom followed her out into the hall, clutching his chest. “I’m crushed.”

“Sure, you are.” She headed toward her quarters.

Tom kept pace with her, a hot, slow smile spreading across his face. “But I am.”

“You couldn’t afford my price tag.” She wiggled her left hand, making sure to show off her wedding band.

He winked at her. “Never say never, that’s my motto.” His silliness sounded a little forced.

“I thought your motto was never say I do?”

“It is. The
M
word isn’t in my vocabulary.”

“You don’t know what you’re missing.”

“Yes, I do. Not a damn thing.”

“Did some woman damage you so badly you’ve sworn off our entire half of the species?”

“I like women.” He grinned and gave her a heated glance. “A lot. I just don’t want a permanent roommate or any little carbon copies.”

Emilie unlocked the door to her room and switched on the light.

Tom followed her in.

“Your place is down the hall,” she said, deliberately pulling off her sweater, leaving her in a bra and silk undershirt.

His gaze dropped to her breasts and the silk that curved over them like a second skin. “I wanted to talk to you without an audience.” His grin turned sheepish. “About Stan…I can’t thank you enough.”

“I didn’t do it alone.” She raised her brows. “In fact, you hardly needed me there at all.”

His smile disappeared. “That’s a load of bull.”

She pursed her lips, sat down on her narrow bed and leaned back. “There’s something I’m curious about though.”

“What?”

“Why you got so angry when I wanted to go outside to look for Stan. You looked mad enough to—” she shrugged, “—do something stupid.”

“Like what? Hit someone?”

“I don’t know, but it’s obvious Stan’s situation reminded you of something traumatic. Something that made you angry.”

He shook his head and let his gaze wander. “There’s nothing to tell.”

Emilie frowned. “I didn’t peg you for a coward.”

Tom’s head jerked around and he opened his mouth, but aborted whatever he planned to say before it got out. He regarded her with what she could only term as reluctant respect. “Your behavior wasn’t completely professional either,” he finally said. “Why did you want to go searching for Stan when you knew you had to stay here?”

She sighed. What could she say? That she was afraid of losing another life?

“I admit, my emotions got the best of me,” she began. “My objectivity, in the face of possible death, frequently goes bye-bye. During my interview for this position, I made it very clear that I was prepared to go to heroic measures to save lives.” She tried to smile. “It’s one of the reasons I got the job.”

“You’re willing to sacrifice the safety of the entire crew to save one life?”

“The only life I’m willing to sacrifice for another’s is my own. I wouldn’t put anyone else at risk.”

“But you’re the doctor, the only one we’ve got.
We
, all of us, need you.”

“I know, it’s why I stayed.” She speared him with a glance. “But you went out. You’re the station manager, an equally important position.”

“We could argue that about any job here.”

“We could, but we’re not. It’s your turn to talk, Tom. What happened?”

Tom walked to the door, then turned and walked back. He towered over her, his arms crossed over his chest. “Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“It’s got nothing to do with you. Can’t you just leave it alone?”

“It’s my duty to save lives, remember? What if this happens with someone else, will you go out there, alone, again?”

“How did you know I went alone? Checking up on me, Em?”

“Yes. One of the guys on the team who found Stan stopped by the clinic to see how he was doing. He told me you were out by yourself.”

Tom shook his head and paced away again. “I took the proper safety precautions. If I hadn’t gone out, we might not have found Stan.”

“That’s a bunch of crap.” She stood, stomped over to within an inch of his chest. “
What happened?
”

“I lost a man,” Tom burst out, then stopped and ran a hand through his hair. “Two years ago, a young guy on my crew, Cam, went outside and got himself lost.” All the energy seeped out of Tom, his hands and head hanging lifeless. “By the time we found him he was dead.”

“Hypothermia?”

“Yeah. We tried to warm him, even got his temp up a bit, but he went into cardiac arrest and we couldn’t resuscitate him.”

“Heart attacks are common in severely hypothermic patients.” She took one of Tom’s hands in her own, cradling it, rubbing his palm with gentle fingers. “There was nothing you could have done.”

“I know. That’s the problem. I couldn’t save him and I wasn’t about to lose another friend the same way today.”

“As much as I hate to admit it, we can’t save everyone. Sometimes people die. It’s not easy to accept, but unless we learn how, the pain will eat at us from the inside out. Like you, I would do anything,
anything
to save someone, but in the end it’s not always up to me. At that point I have to be able to let go, or a part of me dies too.”

His gaze found hers and held on. “Is that what happened when your husband died? You couldn’t let go?”

Emilie recoiled as if Tom had slapped her. She tried to suck in a breath, but her chest hurt too much. She stumbled back, the heartache radiating out, making her limbs tremble.

He caught her before she fell. “I’m sorry,” he said staring into her face and wincing. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No,” she managed to croak out. “You’re entitled. I accused you of the same thing.”

Her vision blurred. She wiped the back of her hand over her eyes and it came away wet. When had she started crying? A sob worked its way loose, then another and she was suddenly wrapped in Tom’s arms, his neck bent so he could murmur soothing sounds in her ear.

She clutched him around the waist and buried her nose in the soft fabric of his flannel shirt.

“Let it all out,” he whispered.

She cried for several minutes, wrenching sobs that seemed to come straight from her core, from where she hurt the most.

“I’m not just crying for me,” she said, her voice muffled by his shirt. “I’m crying for you too.”

“Getting rid of my ghosts?”

“Yes.” She pulled away from the warmth of his shoulder and let her gaze travel his face. He wore a sad smile. “All of them.”

“You could cry an ocean, but it still wouldn’t be enough to wash them all away.” Grief surged out of him from somewhere deep inside. His hands shook with it. It called to her on a level so elemental it compelled her to touch him, comfort him, love him.

God, he smelled good. She could stand for hours in the circle of his arms, surrounded by his warmth, his scent, his compassion. For over a year she’d clung to David’s memory. No more. This time she was going after what she wanted. Tom needed her and she needed him.

“Then I’ll have to find another way.” She pressed herself to him, rocking against his erection.

Tom’s eyes widened and he sucked in a breath. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

“No, but I think I need this. I need you.”

His arms tightened around her and his head lowered agonizingly slow. “I’ve got too much crap stored up to burden a woman like you.”

She pushed upward on tiptoe. “I’ve got plenty of my own. Yours doesn’t scare me.”

He cupped her face with one hand, his other cradled the small of her back, urging her closer. “It should.”

“It doesn’t.”

His breath feathered over her face, and she tilted her mouth so she lay ready and open to him.

He swallowed hard. “I want you.”

“Good. I want you too.”

“This is a bad idea.”

“It’s all I can think about,” Emilie said, stretching up to meet him.

“Oh, yeah,” he whispered as his lips met hers, the first touch gentle and searching. Then his mouth ravaged hers, laid claim to it, conquered it. One of his hands roamed her back down to her butt while the other cupped her breast, teasing the sensitive peak, drawing heavy moans from her throat.

Alive, he was so alive and warm and male.

She wanted him right now while she could still feel, while she could still accept the comfort his body could give. Comfort she never thought she’d find again.

“Tom?”

“Hmmm?” he asked, kissing his way down her neck.

“Do you have a condom?”

He stilled then lifted his head. “Not on me.”

“Neither do I.”

He kissed her again. “If I leave to get one, are you…” His voice trailed off.

“Better to do it now, with your clothes on, than later, buck naked.”

“Right.” He smiled and was gone.

“What am I doing?” she asked herself out loud, pressing her palms to her temples. She turned her left hand and looked at her wedding ring. David had been gone for a year. It was time to let him rest.

Biting her lip, she pulled the ring off and put it on the dresser.

A stir in the air behind her told her someone had entered the room. She turned. Tom watched her as he quietly closed the door behind him.

She glanced at his hands. “Did you find one?”

He dropped several foil packages on the floor next to the bed. “I wasn’t sure how many.”

Emilie stared at the little pile, and her breath caught in her throat. “Oh.”

Tom watched her like a tiger ready to pounce. “I want you so damn bad, my hands are shaking.”

She glanced at him and saw with a jolt that he was right. “You’re not the only one. I’ve wanted you since I woke up to find you rubbing me all over.”

He burst out laughing. “I imagine that was a shock.” The tension broken, he strode toward her and pulled her against him, letting her feel his erection, hard and hot, underneath his jeans.

“The shock was discovering how sexy you are.”

“Darn,” he said, his lips kissing one corner of her mouth then the other. “What an opportunity we missed.”

“Tom?”

“Mmm?”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The long slow slide of his lips tantalized her, his tongue tempting her into asking for more. He backed her up until her legs hit the bed then lowered her to the sheets.

“We’ve got a problem here,” he said, his voice deep and rough.

“What’s that?”

“Too many clothes.”

Emilie laughed and ran one hand over his erection in a deliberate tease. “Umm, how do we solve that, Mr. Safety Man?”

His answering smile dripped with sin. “I’m going to take each layer off, one by one, slowly, until you beg me to hurry.”

Emilie’s eyes widened. She didn’t want to wait. Her hands went to the waistband of her jeans, trying to undo the button. “Maybe I should take care of the problem myself?”

“Too late,” Tom growled. He took both her hands and raised them above her head, holding them to the mattress with one large hand. “I’m going to unwrap you, Emilie, then I’m going to taste, lick and suck every inch of your delicious body.”

She could hardly breathe. “That sounds like torture.”

His smile turned even more wicked, and his free hand snaked under her silk shirt to stroke one breast. “Of the sweetest kind, for both of us.”

Emilie moaned and rocked her body back and forth as he touched her. He shoved her undershirt up to her armpits, then pulled her into a sitting position and swept it over her head. Before she could lie back down, he took her hands prisoner again and bent her over his other arm so he could nip at her nipples through her bra. She gasped at the sensation and tried to free her arms to throw them around him, but he held her immobile, which only excited her more.

The hand holding her up shifted and he released the front catch on her bra. He grabbed it with his teeth and pulled it out of the way far enough for his lips to close around her nipple.

A long groan poured out of her throat. “Please, Tom.”

“Please what?”

“I need you to…” She lost the ability to speak as he moved from one breast to the other.

“Need me to…what?”

“To love me. Please.”

“Do you want me to strip you then take you?”

“Yes.”

He lifted his head and looked at her glistening nipples. “God, I can hardly wait.”

“I can’t,” she complained. “Hurry up.”

Tom laughed. “Bossy.” He released her hands to jerk her jeans down, her long underwear and panties with it.

“You like it,” she said, clawing at his shirt.

He pulled it and two other layers of clothing off at the same time then he went to work on his pants. Naked, he knelt beside her for a moment, letting her look. “Yeah, I do.” He grabbed one of the condoms off the floor, opened the package and rolled it on.

Emilie licked her lips. Broad-shouldered and muscled, his body was in incredible shape. And it was all hers. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

He smiled at her again. “Making sure you’re fully satisfied with the merchandise.”

“Satisfied? I won’t know until after. Inspired? I can’t wait.” She pulled at his hand.

“What are you inspired to do?” he asked as he came down on top of her, making room for himself between her thighs.

“There’s a list.” She gasped as his fingers searched her out.

He tested her, his finger sinking deep. “Is it long?”

Emilie panted. “Very.”