that had drawn her in the second she’d looked at him. Had even sent her heart into a ridiculous and unwelcome flutter.
She frowned, wondering why in the world she was thinking about a guy she didn’t know. The deepening pitch of the boat had her grabbing the metal rungs at the top of the bed and holding on. Good thing she wasn’t prone to full-on seasickness, or she’d probably be crawling her way to the bathroom by now.
Maybe sleeping on the top bunk hadn’t been the best idea. With the way the boat swayed, she’d been afraid that the equipment she’d brought would slide across the floor, or be dislodged from the top bed, so she’d secured it on the lower bunk. Probably, though, being higher made her feel the pitch of the boat more than she would otherwise. Just as she was pondering if maybe she should just try to sleep somewhere on the floor, the storm sent the boat into its deepest roll yet. First one direction, then the other, then back so suddenly and violently she was flung from the bunk.
Her brain took a second to compute that she was airborne at the same time an automatic shriek left her lips. When her body reached the other side of the tiny cabin, her head connected with the wall as she slammed into it before dropping hard onto the floor like a rag doll thrown by a toddler. “Ow! Damn it!”
Dazed, she lay there a moment. The bruises on her elbow and shoulder started to complain. Her head throbbed. Something warm slid onto her forehead, and she lifted a shaking hand, coming into contact with sticky blood. She shoved off her eye mask and felt around her hairline, confirming that her darned head was cut open. Carefully moving her fingers to figure out where exactly the blood was coming from, and to gauge how much was oozing, she determined it was a fairly small trickle. Must not be too bad a gash since scalps normally bled a lot, so nothing to stress over too much.
She drew a shaky breath before gingerly sitting up. Figuring out what first aid might be necessary and how to actually accomplish it wasn’t going to be easy. Did she even have a mirror in here to try to look at it?
Three loud raps on her door had her turning to stare at the gray metal panel and blink. It also made her realize that one of her earplugs had fallen out, even though she was sure she’d have heard that banging through double sets of the foam things.
Breathing deeply through her nose again, she tried to compose herself and removed the other plug, too, shakily shoving it into her pocket.
“Hey! You okay? Let me in.”
Great. She closed her eyes and slumped back against the cabin wall. She’d bet good money that was her sexy neighbor’s voice. Last thing she wanted was to have him touching her head and making her feel all fluttery, which she had a bad feeling might happen again, considering she’d been thinking of him just moments ago. But of course that was ridiculous. Attractive? Yes. But so were a lot of other men on this ship. And all were men who traveled for their work, and that she didn’t have interest in.
Jordan opened her mouth to say she was fine, but as the blood trickled on down to her eyebrow, she had to grudgingly face reality. It made a whole lot more sense to let him see what was going on with her head wound than her trying to figure out how to check it herself. In a dark cabin with no mirrors, while the seas threw the boat around like a toy.
“Okay.” She tried to stand, but realized she felt surprisingly shaky, which wasn’t helped by the pitching of the boat. She ended up crawling to the door, feeling a little foolish as she reached up to unlock the knob, then leaned back against the wall next to it. “Come in.”
The door crept open only a few inches, which she realized was smart on his part. Easy to accidentally bash someone if you shoved it wide open without first figuring out where they were. She could see him scan the room, then quickly look down, his brows rising and his eyes deep with concern even in the low light of the room.
“Are you hurt?” He flipped on the light switch, then crouched down next to her, his hand on the doorjamb to keep himself steady as the boat rolled. “I heard a loud thud, then somebody—you—cry out. What happened?”
“Got thrown from my bunk. Banged up. My head is bleeding, but just a little. Will you take a look and see what’s going on up there?”
Another violent roll had her sliding sideways several inches on her rear, and his arm shot out to grab hers. “Let’s get you off this floor and onto the lower bunk, since it’s the only thing screwed down to the floor.”
“No room. I have a bunch of equipment and stuff secured on there.”
“Now there’s a good idea. Keep the equipment safer on the lower bunk than your body and head.” A disgusted sound left his mouth. “Hang tight. I’ll be right back.”
She leaned her aching head back against the wall, hoping this wasn’t a bad omen to start the trip. Then again, some of the craziest and worst stuff that had happened to her and her parents on their working treks around the world later made for some of the best stories and laughs.
At the sound of his feet coming up the hall, she turned to see him staggering into the cabin with an armload of bedding while the boat tipped deeply to one side again, and she couldn’t seem to keep from sliding back the other direction. “I’m going to tuck you into this corner over here so you’ll be still while I take a look.”
“Little Jordan Horner sat in a corner eating her curds and whey,” she muttered.
“You’re getting your nursery rhymes mixed up. Not to mention that’s a little weird.” He picked her up in his arms like she weighed nothing and gently sat her in the corner, stuffing the bedding on both sides of her hips, instantly making her feel more secure. “You feel nauseated? Confused?”
“I’m pretty sure I don’t have a concussion,” she said, wincing as she lifted her fingers to touch the tender lump on her head. “And feeling nauseated would be a given, considering the way the ship’s been rolling for the past who knows how many hours.”
“True.” He shot her that smile that made her feel a little weak in the knees. “I’m Ezekiel Edwards, by the way. Friends call me Zeke.”
“Jordan Flynn.”
“I know. Fletcher Station’s doctor.” He nodded. “I’m a marine biologist and climatologist. PhD. Also a trained medic, so you can trust me to take care of your head.”
“How do you know I’m the station’s doctor?”
“Saw your name on the roster. And okay, true confessions.” That quick smile again. “Someone on this ship told me the doctor on board was drop-dead gorgeous, and as soon as I saw you in the hall earlier, I knew it had to be you.”
“Is this your usual chitchat when you meet a woman?” She rolled her eyes, not even close to surprised about that, then regretted it when it made her head hurt worse.
He chuckled. “It’s just nice to finally meet you.” He pulled a flashlight from his pocket and kneeled in front of her, lifting her chin to look in her eyes.
“Honestly, I don’t have a concussion.”
“How do you know? Do you usually recite nursery rhymes just for the hell of it?”
“Actually, yes. It was something my parents taught me to do when I felt worried about something, or if I was hurt, to distract me.” And right now, she seemed to need a distraction from his chiseled features and sexy lips and the manly way he smelled, way more than from her bruised body and
