Nuclear Storm. Don Pendleton

on campus doesn’t mean she doesn’t appreciate other things in life—” he pointed a finger at Joe “—unlike some other people I could mention. You know she’s into all that environmental save-the-planet stuff. Your little modular boxes you wanna plant on the Serengeti are just the opening you need to start a conversation with her that could lead to—other things.”

       It was Joe’s turn to roll his eyes. Even as an accomplished grad student in quantum physics, George’s exploits on campus with the opposite sex—students and professors both—were already the stuff of legend. With his Denzel-like looks, athletic ability and stratospheric IQ, he combined looks, body and brains in a completely irresistible package. Joe figured all his buddy would have to do was say the word and Brandy would fall naked at his feet.

       By contrast, Joe was a brown-haired, blue-eyed, fair-skinned German, indistinguishable from any of the thousand other grad students on campus. That Brandy would even give him a second glance when Mr. Adonis was right beside him was an idea Joe found ludicrous at best.

       George rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “Look, I’ll prove it to you. When the others come back, I’ll bet she’ll come up with some excuse to go off for something—firewood, perhaps—and will ask for help. There’s your chance, stud.”

       Joe smiled at his friend’s pipe dream. “I think you’ve been smoking too much salvia, buddy. But all right, just to shut you up, let’s see what happens when they return.” He looked around the neatly set up campsite, with the tents arranged around the campfire, and folding stadium chairs next to fully stocked coolers. Opening the nearest one, he grabbed a beer from it and raised an eyebrow at his roommate. “While we’re waiting…”

       “Now you’re talking.” George deftly caught the cold can Joe tossed to him.

       Bright headlights illuminated the clearing as an ancient but well cared-for Jeep Cherokee slowly climbed the narrow road—little more than a trail—leading to the campsite. The diesel engine died, and four students spilled out of the four-by-four.

       Joe watched the quartet unload the rest of their supplies and haul them closer to the fire. Sanjay Patel was a mechanical engineering student working on the next generation of rechargeable batteries—and engines. Sandra Talbot was the archetypical mousy, brown-haired, glasses-wearing, library-haunting geek—who also happened to be studying the cutting edge of particle physics and had a 193 IQ. She was also George’s current girlfriend, which Joe was still trying to figure out. When he’d asked his roomie about her, all the other guy had said was, “What can I say? I likes ’em with big brains.”

       Samuel Moskowitz, a finance grad taking a double major in forensic accounting and computer science, was planning to fight Wall Street crime after graduation. Rounding out the sextet was the improbably named Brandy Bodeen.

       Even as buried as he was in worrying about the crushing workload awaiting him back at campus, Joe’s heart skipped a beat and his jeans tightened when he saw the lithe blonde tote another cooler to the site. Curved in all the right places, and slender everywhere else, she even made her shapeless hoodie and blue jeans look like a model was wearing them.

       There were loud greetings, backslaps, and several beer cans cracked open as everyone got down to the serious business of relaxing—namely, drinking until they could barely see. Joe had rejoined the group near the fire and caught George’s steady gaze. He shook his head and shrugged, and that was when he heard the words.

       “Fire’s getting low.” Brandy rose gracefully from her cross-legged position on a blanket. “I’m gonna get more wood. Who wants to come with me?”

       The others muttered excuses, and with a start Joe realized he was the only one who hadn’t spoken yet. “I—I’ll go.” He scrambled to his feet, trying to avoid tripping or stumbling. As he rose, he saw George wipe a smile off his face and realized what was going on.

       Son of a bitch—he set the whole thing up, Joe thought. He tore his gaze away from his roommate only to find himself staring at Brandy, who was looking at him with her round, blue eyes, a faint crease between her eyebrows indicating her puzzlement.

       “You ready?” Her lush, full-lipped grin was impish, and at that moment Joe couldn’t have cared less if this whole thing had been set up, or it she had been a prostitute instead of one of the smartest minds at MIT. If she wanted to get with him, who was he to refuse?

       He smiled back. “Absolutely.”

       “Hey sport, catch.” Joe turned just in time to put his hands up and grab the flashlight Sanjay had tossed to him.

       “Don’t get lost out there. Stay within sight of the fire,” Sam said as he stirred the blaze with a stick.

       “Yes, Mom,” Brandy replied, cracking up the rest of the group. “Come on, Joe.”

       Walking beside her, Joe and Brandy left the warm circle of light and entered the forest proper. Joe felt the four pairs of eyes on his back as they left. Moving his finger back behind him, he flipped them all off, making the four howl with laughter again.

       Brandy glanced behind them, and Joe quickly turned his bird into scratching an itch. “What was that about?”

       “I’m sure George told a joke or something.” Joe looked around as they proceeded deeper into the woods. Birch, ash and oak trees towered over them, mixed with pine and fir, which lent the night a clean, woodsy scent. He was a city boy through and through, but tried not to show his nervousness about being here. His only other experiences with nature had been the science camps his parents had packed him off to every summer. Even then, he’d spent more time indoors doing experiments than the normal things like swimming and fishing that boys did at that age.

       Alone with Brandy, Joe was even more tongue-tied than at the campsite. She didn’t seem to mind, strolling along like she didn’t have a care in the world. Finally, he came up with, “So, how’s your research coming?”

       She turned to him and smiled, her teeth gleaming in the moonlight. “I could bore you to tears with a ten-minute dissertation on the movement of wave particles in the sixth dimension, but I don’t think that’s why we’re here.”

       She kept staring at him, making Joe’s earlier bravado slip away. “Look, I know George arranged this, but I’ll understand if you just want to get the firewood and head back—”

       Brandy turned to him, and Joe suddenly felt pressure on the back of his head, and before he could wonder why he was leaning forward, she brought his mouth to hers and kissed him hungrily. Joe put his arms around her slim waist and held her, partly to keep from falling over with surprise, and partly just to get his hands on her. The kiss itself was everything he’d ever fantasized about, and then some. When they parted, he sucked in a breath and just stared at her.

       “Joe, who do you think gave him the idea?” She smiled again and pulled away from him. “Come on.”

       They ran deeper into the woods, finding a narrow path that twisted and turned in the moonlight. When they were both sure they’d be safe from any curious eyes, Brandy stopped and turned to him. “You’re the reason I came on this trip, you know.”

       “Me? Why?”

       She smiled that dazzling smile again. “I wanted to get to know you better.”

       Between the beer—Joe was a relative lightweight in the drinking category—his hormones and the light-headedness from her kiss, he could barely keep up. “Uh, yeah, you hardly know me now.”

       “Well, what better place to change that?” She walked toward him, and Joe raised his hand as he was about to answer her—or say something—but his mouth stopped working as his fingers encountered her firm breast first. Joe froze, mortified, but Brandy unzipped her hoodie and moved his hand inside to cup her warm flesh through her T-shirt.

       “That’s a good start. Here…” She turned off the flashlight and stuck it in his back pocket. “It’s always more fun in the dark.”

       Joe could scarcely believe