Название | A Kiss To Melt Her Heart |
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Автор произведения | Emily Forbes |
Жанр | Контркультура |
Серия | Mills & Boon Medical |
Издательство | Контркультура |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781474004497 |
Gabe pushed open the door. It looked heavy and exactly like a door one would find on a freezer room. As she stepped through it she could see that was precisely what it was. As Gabe closed the door softly behind her, she noticed an immediate increase in temperature for, despite the sunshine, the outside temperature remained well below freezing. She understood the point of the freezer door now—it wasn’t to keep the cold in but to keep the cold out.
She found herself in what looked like a large mud room, similar to the drying rooms she’d seen in ski lodges. Around the edge of the room were open-fronted lockers with hanging space and shelving. Gabe directed her to one with ‘Doc’ written above it. ‘You can keep your outer layer of clothes here—boots, jackets, pants, gloves.’ His voice was deep and sounded like it held a smile, Sophie felt as if she could listen to him for hours. ‘The shed is heated to around twenty degrees Celsius,’ he continued, ‘so you don’t need much more than a layer of normal clothing once you’re inside. If your clothes are damp or wet, make sure you hang them with some space between them so they dry effectively. Take your linings out of your boots if they are wet. If your socks are dry leave them on, otherwise change them.’
Sophie nodded and looked around, taking in the surroundings, as Gabe brought her bags into the room and then began to strip off his outer layers of clothing. Sophie hesitated before following. She wasn’t sure exactly how many layers she was supposed to discard. He had mentioned normal clothing but stripping down to one layer would leave her standing there in her thermal underwear. She didn’t think that was what he’d meant.
She looked to Gabe for guidance. His waterproof jacket was hanging on a peg above his boots. His waterproof pants came off next, followed by a fleecy pullover and his long-sleeved shirt. Sophie wondered how many more layers he was going to remove until she realised he had finished and was now standing, waiting for her, dressed in a simple black T-shirt and a pair of jeans.
She could see now that her first impression of him being solidly built had been correct. It was impossible to judge people’s sizes accurately when they were encased in their cold-weather gear but now that he was standing in front of her in civvies she didn’t have to imagine what he looked like. His shoulders were broad, his chest was muscular and his stomach was flat. His jeans hugged his thighs, showing off his long, lean legs. He was an impressive-looking man.
Realising it was probably inappropriate to be taking stock of him like this she averted her eyes and continued removing layers until she was clothed in her sweatpants and T-shirt. She was still wearing her thermals but she wasn’t about to remove another layer and stand before Gabe in her underwear. She wasn’t that confident and, if the truth be told, undressing at all in front of him was making her feel a little nervous. She’d taken off enough clothing for now, she just hoped it wasn’t going to be much hotter inside the shed proper. She might regret her modesty.
Once she’d finished discarding clothing, Gabe opened the next door that led further into the red shed. ‘Can you hold this for me?’ he asked.
His voice was deep and smooth and matched his physique. He exuded a sense of calm while looking like a man who was used to being in charge, used to being listened to, used to having people follow his instructions. She supposed that was appropriate, given that he was in charge of the station, but Sophie got the sense that he wasn’t a man you wanted to disappoint.
She held the door as Gabe picked up one of her bags and slung it over his shoulder, before grabbing the two remaining bags and leading the way out of the drying room.
‘Let me take one of those,’ Sophie protested. All she had to carry was her virtually empty kitbag.
‘I’ve got it,’ he replied. ‘I know you’ve only just had your appendix out. I don’t want to jeopardise your recovery by letting you lift and carry things you don’t need to. You’re far too important on this station to put you at risk.’
Sophie didn’t argue any further. Gabe was twice her size. He had removed his shoes but he was still an inch or two over six feet tall and much heavier than she was. If he was going to insist on lugging her gear, she was happy to let him. She was willing to admit relief at not having to cart her suitcases.
She didn’t ask how Gabe knew about her recent surgery. As Station Leader, he would have his finger on every pulse. She knew that the Human Resources department in Hobart would have prepared a file on her and that Gabe would have read it. The file would detail everything he might need to know, from her qualifications to the results of her psych tests to her next of kin. He would know how many years’ experience she had as a doctor and that she was widowed. He would have read all the reports but he didn’t mention any other personal details.
She was grateful for his help and his discretion. She followed him out of the drying room into a passageway. He didn’t seem bothered by the fact that he was carting over fifty kilograms of her baggage. He didn’t appear to be under any strain at all. His long-legged stride ate up the corridor and Sophie had to hurry to keep up with him.
‘You’ve missed lunch but the cook will rustle something up for you as I’m sure you’re hungry, and then I’ll give you a tour of the station,’ Gabe said over his shoulder. ‘Unless you need to rest, in which case I’ll show you straight to your room.’
The aroma of freshly baked bread wafted along the corridor, teasing her taste buds. ‘Something to eat sounds good,’ she said, surprising herself. She had lost her appetite since Danny’s death and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually felt like eating. But suddenly she was starving.
Gabe turned and pushed open a door. He backed into a room and when Sophie followed she found herself in the mess hall. The kitchen equipment ran along the back wall to her left. Massive serving stations filled the centre of the room and several long communal tables were arranged between the serving area and the far wall. Sophie’s eyes were drawn to a series of enormous windows on the far wall and she forgot all about the smell of freshly baked bread. She forgot she was in the kitchen. She forgot Gabe had brought her here to eat. She forgot she was hungry.
The view through the windows drew her across the room. The windows looked out over the icy plateau and across the blue waters of Vincennes Bay, and she couldn’t resist a closer look at the harbour. She’d only caught a quick glimpse of the station’s landscape as Alex had delivered her to the red shed and she was drawn to the contrasting colours of the buildings, the ice and the water. The views were glorious.
Half a dozen armchairs with plump cushions were positioned in front of the windows and she could just imagine curling up in one and staring out across the ice. It would be a constantly changing landscape, depending on the weather conditions, and more than likely would be enough to keep her occupied for hours.
‘It’s incredible, isn’t it?’ Gabe stood beside her.
She nodded and spoke in a whisper that seemed to fit the majesty of the view. ‘I can’t believe I’m going to live here for the next few weeks. At the end of the earth.’
Gabe was smiling at her. ‘Just wait until you see Mother Nature in all her glory. It’s beautiful today when the sun is shining but if there’s a blizzard it will seem as though someone has pulled a snow curtain over the windows. Every day is different and at times the weather can, and does, change in a matter of seconds. It’s a beautiful but inhospitable landscape and, while you’re welcome to explore it, it’s imperative we make sure you’re equipped to deal with it. I’ll organise for Alex to give you some survival training as we can’t let you out there until we’re sure you’re ready, but right now I think the first order of business is getting you fed.’
Gabe introduced her to Dom, the station chef, who served her a bowl of minestrone with freshly baked rolls still warm from the oven. Sophie’s stomach rumbled as she quickly gathered her brown, shoulder-length curls into one hand, pulling them into a ponytail before securing it with an elastic band that was around her wrist. She flicked her hair back over her shoulder, picked up her spoon and dipped it into the soup. She bent her head and tasted it.
‘Mmm,