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If she could pull it off. No one had believed in her before now, so the drive to prove her place here bit hard. She couldn’t let anyone distract her from reaching for that.
    And though Hunter might chase a light fling, she knew it wouldn’t be light for her . Not given the intensity of emotion he’d just stirred in her with a single kiss. Emma never wanted that kind of intensity—because the flip side of fun was heartache. And the flip side of those kinds of fireworks would have to be catastrophic.
    “You’ve been here before, haven’t you?” It wasn’t merely a polite conversation starter to move them on from that mad moment. She was insanely curious about him.
    He nodded. “Last year, I was at the American station. Always wanted to come to this one.”
    “Why?”
    “Smaller.” He walked a few more paces toward the boundary flag. “Fewer people.”
    And that was a good thing? The super-flirt wanted a smaller pool to play in? Or maybe he’d really meant it when he said he hadn’t come here for a hookup.
    “You’re lucky getting to come down here twice,” she prattled, still breathless. “I’ve been waiting forever for my one chance.”
    “Then you’d better make the most of it.”
    “Not with you.” She shook her head. “That’s not happening.”
    He puffed out a deep breath, the air froze and formed a cloud between them. Slowly he nodded. “So why were your eyes watering?”
    “Sorry?”
    He smiled, the light, teasing smile of earlier. “Your lashes froze up. They must have been wet.”
    “Because of the cold.”
    “No,” he admonished gently. “You’re a softie. You were teary about being here.”
    Okay, that she couldn’t deny, so she simply smiled.
    “Come on.” He turned, dropping his gaze from hers. “I’ll show you something amazing.” He chuckled as he took her arm. “And yes, we’re allowed this far.”
    He led her between the path flags, walking for a good ten minutes in sizzle-tipped silence.
    “Wow.” Emma broke it as she stared at the looming lumps in the ice. “What are these?”
    “Pressure ridges,” he answered. “Where the sea ice meets the shelf ice. They slowly collide and form ridges and bumps.”
    Not just bumps; they were beautiful formations—nature’s own ice sculptures and better than anything any artist could create.
    “This is incredible.”
    “Don’t get teary again.” He threw her a teasing look.
    She just shook her head, blinking furiously. It was too late.

CHAPTER THREE

    FIELD SAFETY TRAINING took two days. Despite the fact she was only to be down there eleven days, Emma had requested to do the full course because part of her project was to experience and then reflect what it’s like to live on the ice. To be able to do her mural back in Christchurch, she needed as much experience of life on the ice as she could. But it meant she’d be pushed for time to finish her mural while actually here. But surely with the endless days, she could manage it.
    They started indoors, sitting through lectures on safety and theory and scientific ethics, including restrictions on how they could approach the wildlife. Emma’s excitement bubbled over again.
    Later they moved outside to the practical aspects of the course—which meant learning how to evacuate from a Hägglund through the top hatch should it start to sink through the ice. No problem for her, given she’d played in the Hägglund in Christchurch many times. But in the afternoon they took their sleeping gear and jumped into another ATV and drove for twenty minutes or so before pulling up. On this stretch of the vast snowy landscape, they built a snow shelter, putting up tents and camping for the night.
    They were divided into two groups of five to build their shelters. The four women present were split. So in her group there was a young woman named Lily, who’d been down briefly last year, plus three of the men. She glanced at the guy she’d managed to avoid most of the morning.
    “Aren’t