Page 24 of Escaping my Dragon

“Can’t exactly debunk something I don’t understand.”

“Fair point, but I guess I expected you to be someone who read off a script someone else wrote.”

“It’s my name and reputation on the line, so ain’t nothing coming out of this mouth that I haven’t personally vetted.” Something I felt strongly about and included as a clause in my contract.

“What’s your perspective thus far on Antarctica?”

“It’s cold.” That made him laugh. “More seriously, the station is impressive, given the lack of resources. Everyone is friendly. I’m eating so much I might not fit in my clothes soon.”

“I meant what’s your thoughts about the rumors you’re chasing?”

“Ah, those. To be honest, I don’t believe any of them are true, but I can’t allow myself to be biased, hence why I need to investigate each claim as thoroughly as I can.”

“How much longer do you think that will take?”

I shrugged. “Depends. Could be days. Weeks, if I don’t get the evidence I want.”

“Meaning I should delay on-site visits.”

I arched a brow. “Why, Captain, are you trying to keep me here longer?”

“Yes.” Bold. Unabashed. “You’re more interesting than anyone else here.”

“Ah, I should have known, you’re attracted to my brain.” I wrinkled my nose.

“Is that what you think?”

“You tell me.”

Instead, he showed me. Some men might have dipped in for a shy or tentative kiss to test the grounds. Not this man. He scooped me into his lap and pressed his mouth to mine in a firm claim that had me tingling all the way to my toes.

Oh my.

Unlike some, he didn’t immediately jump from kissing to groping. He took his time exploring my lips. Teasing them. Coaxing them to part. The touch of his tongue brought a shiver.

I was the one to boldly take things further, turning myself on his lap so I straddled, pressing my pussy against the hard bulge contained by his pants. His hands cupped my ass as my own cradled his cheeks, enthralled by the taste of him.

He was harder than the guys I usually dated—and I didn’t just mean in mannerism or attitude. The fitness of his body intrigued. A man who kept himself in shape, evidenced by the muscles I felt as I skimmed the broad expanse of his shoulders. Gripped the bulge of his biceps.

Who knows what we might have done on Greenfield’s stripped bed if my phone hadn’t rung.

“Must you answer?” he groaned as I fumbled for it in my sweater’s zipped pocket.

“The show doesn’t dish out for the best satellite coverage for me to ignore it. We can always finish this later.”

“Cruel.”

“Anticipation is good for you,” I riposted with a wink before answering, “Hey, Gus. Tell me you found something.”

“Did I ever!” gushed my hacker friend. Before he could start relaying his findings, I hit speaker so Noah could hear too. “Turns out this Dr. Greenfield was using an alias. The man at McMurdo station’s real name is Dr. Ian Malone. And get this, he’s wanted on several charges around the world.”

Chapter Eight

This is the life. To the crooning of Elvis from the many hidden speakers in the yard, I lazed in the pool, floating under the stars, my wings stretched, keeping me afloat, utterly relaxed, knowing I had nothing to worry about.

“We’re almost out of cheese puffs,” lamented Tutu, my Grand Vizier and bestest friend after Iolana.

Calamity! In a panic, because my tummy immediately rumbled in consternation, I began sinking and had to kick to the surface to sputter, “What ever shall we do?” Apollo’s excellent chef couldn’t make more of her bite-sized pastries until she returned in a few days. As if meeting her new grandson were more important than feeding me. To add to that inconvenience, Iolana and Apollo had left for the evening, stating they needed a romantic evening alone.