“I’m not an impetuous person,” Gem said slowly. “I…I need time to absorb what’s happened, to think about it, to know if it’s right or even if it’s anything I want to do again.”

Austin could give her time, but she wasn’t going to just sit by and do nothing. “I don’t mind taking my time with something I want.”

“You must admit,” Gem said, trying for lightness, “we haven’t exactly had a typical relationship. I’ve never gone to bed with anyone before at least having half a dozen dates. Actually, more like a couple dozen dates.”

“Oh, I don’t know, I’d say we’ve had a few dates.” Austin released Gem’s hand and leaned back in her chair. “Let’s see, the first couple hours in the car, exchanging names, a little bit about what we did, where we were from, where we were going counts as the getting-to-know-you date. And then at least two dinner dates, well, one was kind of breakfast, but same difference. I believe we even had candlelight—”

“That’s because there was no electricity for a while at the diner.”

Austin laughed. “Right.”

“We’ve had an afternoon at the beach,” Gem said playfully, welcoming the surge of pleasure that chased away some of the ache she’d carried for the last few days, “and bird-watching.”

“Absolutely. And then there’s the romantic getaway at the beachside resort—”

Gem snorted. “Tell me you’re not counting the Gulls Inn—”

“But of course, that was definitely romantic.” Austin grinned. “I’d say we’ve at least hit your six-date requirement.”

“It feels like we have,” Gem said softly. Pretending they hadn’t shared intimacies, emotional and physical, was impossible. “I don’t want you to think it wasn’t special, and what you just said…” She drew a long breath, wanting to embrace the desire, afraid of the intensity of her own needs. “I think I just need a little time to catch up.”

“Then we’ll take time.”

“You don’t strike me as being a particularly patient woman.”

“I can be, when there’s something I really want. And I really want you.”

The undertow of desire caught Gem so quickly and pulled her under so fast, Gem couldn’t escape. In the next breath she went willingly, shifting into Austin’s lap to kiss her. “Thank you.”

Austin wrapped both arms around her and kissed her throat. “Don’t thank me, when I’m the one who’s feeling lucky right now.”

Gem laughed, surprised by the tremor in Austin’s voice and the swell of joy in her heart. A simple kiss from Austin could undo her in a way nothing else ever had. “I’ve never actually believed in chemistry before, but just touching you does something to me. I’m tingling everywhere.”

Austin groaned, running both hands up and down Gem’s back. “You can’t ask me to be patient and then tell me something like—”

Gem silenced her with another kiss, angling her head to take the kiss deeper, welcoming the heat and the hunger. When she sensed herself falling into the taste of her, seduced by the hard possessive grip of her hands, she pulled away. “You have to be patient. We have to get ba—”

Austin’s phone rang and she jerked it from her pocket, her dark eyes swirling with such hunger Gem bit her lip to keep back a moan.

Holding her gaze, Austin snapped, “Germaine.” She listened for a second, then said, “I’ll need twenty…All right. Tell her to follow the lights.” She closed the phone and buried her face against Gem’s throat, her breathing still uneven. “I have to go.”

Gem’s throat tightened. “What is it?”

“We’ve got oil on the surface.”

“God.” Gem stood to let Austin up. “It’s the middle of the night with a hurricane right around the corner. Can you really do anything now?”

Austin framed Gem’s face and kissed her slowly, as if imprinting the taste and feel of her. “We’ll start the burn as soon as we can get the projected area of spill.”

“I’m the last one to suggest maybe you should rely on the booms closer to shore to contain it,” Gem said, grabbing a fistful of Austin’s shirt as if to keep her in place, “but this can’t be safe.”

“We’re not letting it get to shore.”

Gem slipped her hand inside the collar of Austin’s shirt, needing flesh to flesh. “Promise not to do anything risky.”

Austin laughed softly and kissed her again. “I promise…where the job is concerned.”

Wordlessly, Gem let her go and they started back to the beach. Night had fallen and the wind had kicked up a few knots. The marsh grasses bent and fluttered, emitting a sorrowful sigh. By the time they reached the shore, the blinking lights of the helicopter marked its descent.

Austin jogged toward it, shouting, “I’ll see you soon.”

“Remember, you promised me,” Gem called after her, feeling her words pulled away on the wind.

Chapter Twenty-four

Linda Kane came trotting down the beach, trailing a cable and a cameraman. Despite the wind and mist, her hair appeared perfectly coiffed and her designer brand rain slicker looked to be tailor-made to accentuate her voluptuous figure. She wore sporty black pants and boots with low heels that sank into the sand with every step. Nevertheless, she covered the ground with alacrity.

“Where’s the helicopter going?” Linda asked of Gem, a microphone boom thrust into the space over their heads. The soundman braced his legs to hold it steady as the wind gusted offshore.

“Back to the rig,” Gem said.

“That seems rather unexpected,” Linda said, “especially since it required an emergency helicopter pickup from the beach.”

“I really don’t know anything about that,” Gem said. “Helicopter landings are not something I have time to worry about.” She gestured down the beach to the long line of FEMA personnel and volunteers spotlighted in the glow of the halogens standing on stalks like alien praying mantises with single glaring eyes and spindly metal limbs. Hoping to get some public support for the sanctuary, Gem continued, “As you can see, this stretch of coastline borders the Rock Hill marshlands, a section of the wildlife sanctuary along the Atlantic Flyway. That’s—”

“I’m sure everything here will be well taken care of, now FEMA’s here and in charge,” Linda said, facing the camera with a wide bright smile. She made a swift cutting motion below the apparent sight line of the viewfinder. Turning her back to Gem, she said to her assistant, “Call Larry. We need to get up in the air.”

Gem watched them rush back down the beach and disappear over the rise where their van must be parked. Emily, who’d been lurking nearby, joined her.

“Did I just hear her say they’re going up in the air?”

“Yes, I gather she’s chasing the oil story. She sure doesn’t care about the sanctuary.”

“Bad time to be heading out there,” Emily said, pulling up the hood of her windbreaker and cinching it down. “But I guess that’s how they get the scoops.”

“Apparently.” Gem sighed. “And they’re going to get a good one. Austin just got word there’s oil on the surface. They’re going to try to burn it off.”

Emily caught her breath. “Damn. Well. I guess that means we’re going to need more sandbags.”

“Maybe not. Apparently burning is very effective, so I guess there’s still hope.”

Emily squeezed her arm. “Hey, Austin’s an expert, right? So we’ve got more than hope on our side.”

Gem nodded, searching the sky for a single sign that the cloud cover might be breaking. If the moon was out there, she couldn’t see it.

❖

Austin keyed her mic and gripped the ceiling strap with one hand as the bird rocked from side to side. “Getting rough up here.”

“Wind’s picked up and shifts direction every couple of minutes. Air pockets pretty much everywhere.”

As if on schedule, the bird bucked and dropped ten feet inside a second. Austin’s stomach lurched as Benny pulled up. “I thought you and Rio were getting your birds back to the mainland.”

“We plan to, but we’ve still got crew on the platform.”

“As soon as we land, round everybody up. I want everyone gone ASAP.”

Benny glanced at her. “Roger that. You’re heading to the ships?”

“As soon as we get everything coordinated with the burn crews.”

“Just don’t wait too long. Getting a launch off the platform might be tricky on these seas.”

“I hear you.”

Benny set down with a jolt and the helicopter skidded a dozen yards as a blast of air lifted the undercarriage. “I’ll have to tie her down until we get ready to leave.”

“Make it fast.”

“You need to get your meteorologist out here too,” Benny said.

Austin shoved her door open, and the wind tried to shove it back. She braced it with an arm. “She’s still here?”

“Yeah.”

Mentally cursing, Austin said, “I’ll see to it,” and tugged off her headset. She forced her way out onto the platform, leaning into the wind and pushing toward the office.

Claudia was the only one inside. She stood at the counter, a laptop by her right hand, a chart spread out by her left, and an aerial with a tiny red dot denoting the rig projected on the monitor in front of her.

“You’re supposed to be gone,” Austin said abruptly.

Claudia didn’t look around. “With oil on the surface, I need to do current projections so we can chart the direction of the drift for the ships to set the booms.”

Under ordinary circumstances, Austin would’ve agreed. Two containment ships would isolate the oil within a U of fire-resistant booms, congregating the oil into a thick layer for an optimal burn, and tow it away from the rig. If the oil drifted too fast, it escaped the burn. If it thinned out too much, it wouldn’t burn at all. The ships followed courses predicted by a marine meteorologist like Claudia who mapped the currents, the wind speed, the wave height, and a host of other variables. In a lot of ways, this was Claudia’s game right now.