RisingGreen by Sabrina York

Chapter One
     
    “Take the gun.”
    Sage froze as Dan’s gravelly voice intruded on her thoughts.
She glanced at the face of her watch, not because she needed to know the time
but because she needed a moment to prepare for this encounter.
    She always did. With Dan.
    She tightened her grip on the strap of her rucksack and
turned. He leaned against the doorjamb of her tiny quarters like a smug cat.
    “I don’t need a gun.”
    He studied her with those intense blue eyes of his, eyes
that always seemed to be saying something she couldn’t hear. He rubbed his face
with a broad palm.
    Exasperation pinged from him like radar on overdrive. “Damn
it, Green. We all know you’re tough as nails but no one’s done a thorough
reconnaissance of the island. Take the gun.”
    Sage shoved a water bottle into the rucksack and hefted it
to her shoulder. The last week had been interminable. Stuck in base camp while
a summer typhoon lashed at this desolate rock in the middle of the Pacific,
she’d been caged with the rest of the crew, snared in a swirling, snarling
cloud of testosterone. It was like living with a bunch of horny frat boys.
    Horny, petulant frat boys.
    She desperately needed to get away from camp.
    Like now.
    “I’ll only be out for a while. There’s an anomaly I want to
check.” She made a beeline for the door. For escape.
    Dan stepped to the left. Blocked her way.
    Damn it.
    Her gut clenched and she skidded to a halt just short of his
rangy form. She tipped up her chin and glared at him. He hadn’t shaved again,
she noticed with a jangle of annoyance. Dark prickles dusted his cheek, his
chin. They danced down his long, thick jarhead neck. She set her teeth and
forced herself not to look away. She hated weakness. Especially in herself.
    His eyes narrowed and those brows, those perfectly sculpted
brows, furrowed. He held out his Glock. “Kale thought he saw a bear.”
    Sage glanced at the ceiling. A bear? Here? On this rock?
“Kale’s an idiot.” And then when a muscle jerked in his cheek, “Come on, Dan.
I’m only going to sector four.”
    He thrust the gun at her. “Take it. That’s an order.”
    “Oh, all right.” Sage grabbed the Glock, being ever so
careful not to touch him, not to so much as brush his skin. She tucked the
piece into the belted waist of her khakis and pushed past her commander, trying
not to notice how large and looming and warm he was. She didn’t have time for
that shit. She had work to do and the weather was finally clear enough to
escape this overgrown “man cave”.
    “Oh, and Green?” The amusement in his voice stopped her in
her tracks.
    “What?”
    “Come home safe.”
     
    Come home safe.
    What an asshole.
    As if she hadn’t been doing this for years. Sage had
collected and analyzed plant samples in some of the most treacherous corners of
the world. Her research papers on palynology and plant morphology were legend.
Well, in botanic circles at least. Her dissertation on propagation methods was
currently one of the top-one-hundred-referenced works.
    Not that these Neanderthals would get any of that.
    Why should they care about the amazing ways plants adapted
to reproduce and spread? Why, when they could guzzle beer and fart and watch
women’s wrestling on the satellite feed and tell raunchy jokes? Raunchy jokes
about the “ice princess” they were stuck with.
    Hell. She wasn’t an ice princess. She wasn’t a princess of
any kind. She was simply more interested in pistils and stamens than cocks and
cunts and hadn’t bothered to keep it a secret. And if the occasional hot
commander should snag her attention, tickle her libido, well, she was damn good
at swallowing that urge as well.
    Apparently, her lack of fascination with male genitalia made
her frigid.
    Which was fine with her.
    She glanced at her watch again, stroked the face with her
thumb. It had been a gift from her father. She hated her father. But she never
removed the watch. It was an ever-present reminder