Free Melt by Natalie Anderson

midday, she hiked with Hunter, went seal spotting near the pressure ridges, and drove to the American base again. Sometimes others joined them, but Hunter and Emma hung out together so much that between them there was looks, of course, veiled comments, wisps of innuendo. It was impossible to banish all the flirt talk—not when he was so completely gorgeous, and she was so bowled over by him. But she wasn’t going to topple, yet nor did she spend much time with anyone else. Fact was, he was amusing—as reticent as ever about his “real” life back in the real world, but good company. And eye-pleasing to boot.
    The days slipped by—fast, like one of those penguins sliding down the ice. All too soon her time would be up and she wasn’t anywhere near done with the mural. Or Hunter.
    …
     
    “They all think we’re an item, you know,” Hunter said to Emma when they were left alone again on her second-to-last night in the lounge.
    She gave a tired shrug and said nothing.
    Yeah, Hunter knew the irony was she was using him to protect her from the advances of the other guys. And he was doing the same with her with the single women. He hadn’t come here for that kind of fun, despite what he might have hinted to Emma to the contrary when they’d first arrived.
    He’d come here to be as alone as he could be at this time of year—when bitter old memories tormented him. He was one of the many for whom Christmas wasn’t a time of goodwill and cheer; it was a time of heartbreak and disillusionment. He’d had his childhood belief in the festive fantasy shattered the one and only Christmas he and his parents had spent together. So he didn’t want reminders of family at Christmas—and here, there was no family.
    But Emma had changed his focus. It was thoughts of her that tormented him now.
    Truth was, he wanted her beyond belief. He’d wanted her the second he’d seen her, and then that kiss? Plus now, having worked near her these last days, he wanted her with a rabid-dog kind of hunger. She was unbearably pretty, with that sweet smile and naughty glint in her eyes. Her paint-free hair shone in the evenings—he loved it loose, hanging down her back. He loved her form-fitting jeans, too.
    Every day he saw her in the paint gear, he had to fight the urge to free her from it. But she was way stronger than she looked—both physically and in her resolve. Though he suspected she had her weaknesses, too.
    “This is a very safe destination in a way, isn’t it?” he said.
    She looked at him like he was crazy.
    “You’re here with a finite group of people—who you’ve already decided you’re not going to get involved with. It’s short term, there’s lots of survival gear. It’s emotionally safe.”
    She kept looking at him for a long moment. “Is that why you chose to come here?”
    Surprised, he laughed. “In a way, yeah, I guess it is.”
    He didn’t do emotional commitment—never would he get into any kind of long-term relationship. It just wasn’t in his makeup.
    “So what is it you’re afraid of?” she asked softly.
    “Same thing as most people.” He shrugged. Same thing he knew Emma was afraid of. “Nobody likes to be hurt.”
    He’d do the holiday fling for sure, so long as both parties knew the ground rules. And for all her smart talk and I’m-too-strong-to-get-flattened-again attitude, Emma was too soft for a holiday fling with him. So it was a good thing to have toned down the sexual tease with her, right? She had no family. She’d been heartbroken after a short affair with some lame-ass. She was vulnerable, and she’d read too much into any kind of physical relationship.
    “Did someone once hurt you, Hunter?” she asked even more quietly.
    “No one likes to hurt someone else,” he said, sidestepping having to answer directly, but he was honest all the same. It wasn’t a woman who’d hurt him, but he’d been hurt by the fallout of his parents’ relationship. And he knew his own