“Your position is the same as everyone else’s out here,” Rue said firmly. “But if you want a larger room, you can share with Irina. I’m sure there is another double bunk available.”
“Oh, there is,” Koos said good-naturedly.
Camille looked at Irina, and her mouth tightened into a thin line. She lifted her chin and stepped fully into the room, running a finger over the metal frame of the single narrow bed. “This will… suffice.”
Koos chuckled and continued down the hall, showing Noah and Irina into two more single bunks. Then just before the T-intersection, he stopped and pushed open the final door with a flourish. “And for the happy couple… the honeymoon suite.”
Elliot peered inside. It was a little bigger, but not by much, and like Dr. Keene and the students’ room, it contained metal bunk beds bolted to the wall, two narrow lockers, and barely enough floor space for two people to stand side-by-side. The walls were painted the same institutional white as the rest of the station, though someone had taped up faded photographs of tropical beaches—another sad attempt at making Antarctica feel less isolating.
“Bunk beds!” Rue exclaimed, brushing past him with undisguised glee. “I call top bunk!”
Before he could respond, she’d already tossed her pack onto the upper mattress and was scaling the metal ladder with the agility of someone who’d spent half her life climbing things that shouldn’t be climbed.
“This is perfect,” she declared, sprawling across the thin mattress and grinning down at him. “I haven’t slept in a bunk bed since that rescue mission in Nepal.”
Elliot stood frozen in the doorway, a strange disappointment washing through him. He hadn’t consciously been expecting them to share a bed, but somewhere in the back of his mind, he’d assumed...
Christ. What was wrong with him? This was better. Safer. A clear physical boundary between them was exactly what they needed, especially after that almost-kiss outside herhotel. Separate bunks meant no accidental middle-of-the-night contact, no waking up with a morning boner and her warm body pressed against his, no opportunity for his subconscious to betray him.
“Wow, don’t look so thrilled, El,” Rue teased, propping herself up on one elbow. “Were you hoping for an actual honeymoon suite?”
He cleared his throat, trying to ignore the way her honey-gold hair fell across her face. “No, of course not. This is fine.”
“Fine? It’s amazing! We’re at the bottom of the world in a research station that’s basically a pressurized tin can. How many people can say they’ve done that?”
Her enthusiasm was infectious, despite the alarm bells still ringing in his head about the station’s unexpected occupants. He set his bag on the lower bunk and unzipped his parka, hanging his outer gear on one of the three hooks mounted to the wall. The room immediately felt even smaller with his bulky coat taking up precious space.
Rue sat up, her head nearly touching the ceiling. “Oh, come on! Don’t pretend you’re not at least a little excited to be here. This is an adventure!”
“It’s a mission,” he corrected quietly, conscious of the camera he’d spotted in the corner of the hallway. He wasn’t sure if their room was monitored, but until he could do a sweep, he wasn’t taking chances. “With unexpected complications.”
Rue exhaled in exasperation. “It’s always work, work, work with you, Wilde.” But her smile dimmed slightly as she said it, and she glanced at the door, then back to him, her expression growing more serious.
“You mean the summer crew.”
“I don’t like that they’re here and we have no way of checking they are who they say they are.” He unzipped his duffel andbegan transferring his clothes to the small locker beside the bunks. “I don’t like surprises.”
“I’ve noticed. You looked like you were going to shoot someone at your birthday party.” Her smile returned, but it had a harder edge now. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the big, bad scientists.”
He shot her a look that made her grin widen.
“I want to tour the station without Koos looking over my shoulder,” he said, changing the subject. “And with Jess manning the comm station, I’m going to have to get creative setting up a direct line to WSW.”
She swung her legs over the edge of the bunk, dangling them above him. The proximity made his pulse quicken despite his best efforts. “That’s what I love about you, El. Always thinking ahead.”
Love. The word hit him with more force than it should have. Jesus, it was just an expression. Rue threw around affection like confetti, meaningless and bright.
“Someone has to,” he said, more gruffly than he intended.
She tilted her head, studying him with those perceptive eyes that always saw too much. “You okay? You seem extra tense, even for you.”
“I’m fine.” He closed the locker with more force than necessary. “Just... processing.”
Rue slid down from the bunk, landing lightly beside him. In the confined space, she was close enough that he could smell her shampoo—something tropical that seemed wildly out of place in this frozen wasteland.
“The cameras, the biometric locks, the Russians we weren’t briefed about? I noticed it all, too,” she murmured, her breath warm against his neck as she leaned closer to grab her pack off the bed. “We’ll figure it out.”
Her confidence should have been reassuring. Instead, it only heightened his anxiety. Rue had never met a dangerous situation she didn’t want to charge straight into.
