His Surgeon Under The Southern Lights / Reunited In The Snow. Amalie Berlin

group coming in for first-aid instruction.

      Except she knew how. Something about Ezekiel Edwards seemed to make her forget everything except how much she enjoyed talking with him, and laughing with him, and looking into his deep, dark eyes, and she felt herself falling every time. A hardworking man dedicated to his job and who liked to help people. A man whose smile made her feel annoyingly gooey inside whether she wanted to or not.

      “Um…” She glanced at her watch. “I actually have first-aid instruction scheduled. For crew members coming…right now. The first ten for two hours, then another ten after that.”

      “Ah, the first-aid lessons. Need a hand?”

      “Wow, you must be really bored.” Or could it be that he didn’t want to end their time together any more than she did? Which wasn’t something she should want. But she did, anyway, fool that she apparently was.

      “Not bored. I just know from experience that teaching newbies how to stitch, and place IVs, isn’t easy.”

      “Are you offering your arm to let them place the IV? That would be entertaining to watch.”

      Amused brown eyes met hers as he laughed. “I’m not quite that much of a masochist. With this many people, I just know that having two instructors makes it go faster.”

      “I’m sure that’s true.” Jordan hadn’t actually taught nonmedical people how to do the things on her list, but didn’t want to confess that. It sounded like Zeke had, and she felt a pang of disappointment that it was probably the reason he’d offered, and not because he found being with her fascinating, the way she’d unfortunately been feeling about spending time with him.

      But she wasn’t too proud to learn something professionally from him, was she? Even if it was medical related? “We’re going to start with first-aid basics, like treating shock, how to stop bleeding and such. Then go to the stitching and IV placement. Sure you don’t want to be the human practice dummy?”

      “Not that big a dummy.”

      That twinkle in his brown eyes and crooked, engaging grin were irresistible, and she couldn’t help but laugh. Standing there next to him in what should have been a normal, casual interaction between colleagues felt strangely intimate instead. Like they’d known each other a long time, and shared a closeness she shouldn’t feel after knowing him a matter of days. Though she supposed the time they had spent together had been unusual, with him patching her up and working at a science station that currently had a comparatively skeleton crew. Not to mention that she needed him to help her get underwater, and test her parents’ device.

      She couldn’t seem to help that her breath felt a little shallow and her heart was doing that annoying pit-a-pat thing. Her brain knew very well that he was not at all the kind of man she wanted in her life, but her body hadn’t seemed to catch up with that fact.

      She drew a deep breath and tried to shake it off so he wouldn’t suspect her unwitting reaction to him. Though she feared he already knew.

      “Don’t worry, Zeke. I brought a phlebotomy and venipuncture practice arm, so your flesh and blood are safe.”

      “And speaking of flesh and blood, can I check on yours?”

      She nodded and he stepped close again, his wide palm cupping the back of her head as his other hand gently moved aside her hair to look at her scalp wound. He smelled so good, his own mix of the outdoors and a faint whiff of soap and of him, and she found herself wanting to lean into him. To feel his big body pressing against hers, the memory of which seemed imprinted in her brain from when he’d carried her to her bunk.

      “It’s an even more impressive rainbow of colors, but the swelling is down. Looks like it’s healing well.”

      “When I was a little girl I wanted to be a unicorn the worst way, so I guess I’ll think of having a rainbow on my head as a positive.”

      He gave a soft laugh. “Maybe you’ll find something equally colorful and fantastic when we dive.”

      “I can’t wait to find out.” The damned breathlessness wouldn’t seem to go away, and she was glad to have the excuse of starting the first-aid class to put distance between them. “Thanks again for patching me up. Maybe during class I’ll show everyone my head and we’ll demonstrate closing and gluing a wound, too.”

      “Gluing takes more skill than stitching, when it comes to emergency field treatment, though some don’t believe that.” His voice was a warm rumble, and she wondered if he realized the hand behind her head had brought her to within an inch of his broad chest. She realized it the second he’d done it, because being so close had her heart beating fast and her hand lifting to press against his chest, barely resisting the urge to slide it up around his neck and close the small gap between them.

      “I guess we’ll stick with teaching stitching, then.”

      Their gazes met and held, his hot and alive. His strong jaw, covered with dark stubble, looked taut, and his wide shoulders blocked the view of the people coming into the lobby, creating the illusion that they were still alone. Suddenly wanting, more than anything, to rise up on her toes and kiss that tempting mouth of his, to wrap her arms around his neck, foggily trying to remind herself of all the reasons she shouldn’t… But then he broke the mesmerizing connection. Dropped his hand from her head and stepped back.

      His chest rose and fell. Noise from the other room got louder as more people arrived, talking and laughing, and still, neither of them moved. It felt like time had simply stopped as they stared at one another.

      And then he turned away.

      “Sounds like everyone’s ready to learn the basics, Dr. Flynn.”

      She watched him walk out into the lobby, then managed to pull herself together to follow. Which was completely annoying, since she was the one teaching this class, and should have been the first in there, smiling and welcoming everyone. Time to get her act together and remember why she was here, which definitely wasn’t to make goo-goo eyes at a man who made his living researching and traveling, and was not someone she wanted to get personally involved with.

      She hurried into the meeting room and greeted the crew, hoping her expression was relaxed and professional. Half the group was already seated at the table, picking up and examining the medical items in front of them, while the rest were still standing and chatting.

      Her hyperawareness of Zeke’s tall form at the other end of the table was a distraction, but the interest the crew had in learning about the first-aid techniques made it easier to move her attention to teaching. Everyone there knew there might be times they were away from the station in the field and would need to know how to do basic emergency treatment, or an occasion when Jordan was in the field herself and someone would have to take over here at the Fletcher during an emergency. The two hours went by quickly, and the whole thing turned out to be fun, to Jordan’s surprise.

      A big part of what made it fun? Ezekiel Edwards. His joking had everyone laughing at the same time they were learning. The man was not only knowledgeable, he seemed to have that perfect balance of knowing how to teach while keeping everyone engaged.

      Just like he’d been there when she’d needed her scalp repaired, he’d been here for this, too. A man you could count on whenever you needed to. Having him as a partner for this training made it much less stressful and a lot more enjoyable, and the next important step was to convince her body and not just her brain that they needed to keep it strictly professional.

      “Last is stitching a wound,” Jordan said to the group, holding up a needle and suture. “It’s really just like sewing, except you need to stop the bleeding the way we’ve already discussed, then clean the wound as best you can before you close it.”

      “Remember this is a field technique, though, as there might be a better option if someone is injured here at the station,” Zeke said, seated between two people who were riveted by his every word. “Either Dr. Flynn or I will have derma glue on hand, which often can be used in place of stitching for smaller wounds. Especially