Hot As Ice

Hot As Ice
Merline Lovelace

They called him Project Iceman. The U-2 pilot who, incredibly, hadn't aged since the day his top-secret mission went south into the Arctic Ocean…forty-five years ago. Biologist Diana Remington had the duty of monitoring the scientific marvel, but her OMEGA objective was to learn from the fiercely guarded flyboy what had happened during that fateful flight.From his buzz cut to his June Cleaver ideal of women, Major Charles Stone should have riled Diana's defenses. Instead, she ached for all that he'd lost…and welcomed his heated touch despite the rules–and the risk. Because someone seemed determined to let sleeping spies lie–forever….

Diana could only imagine what it would be like to wake up in an alien world, without friends or familiar landmarks.

Steeling herself, she fought the urge to lift a hand and stroke his cheek. He hadn’t asked for comfort or condolences, and probably wouldn’t appreciate either.

“Why don’t we sit down, Major Stone?”

She took a single step, only to come up short as two palms slapped the wall beside her head. His arms caged her. His body formed an immovable wall.

“I want a few answers first.”

“All right. But just so you know, this type of primitive behavior went the way of the poodle skirt.”

Stone remained silent for so long Diana had to fight the urge to fidget. He was too close and too…too male. To her surprise and considerable annoyance, her skin tingled under her silk long johns, and the queerest sensation gripped her belly.

Hot as Ice

Merline Lovelace

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

MERLINE LOVELACE

spent twenty-three years as an air force officer, serving tours at the Pentagon and at bases all over the world before she began a new career as a novelist.

Be sure to watch for Once a Hero, the next book in the exciting new CODE NAME: DANGER series, feturing Jack Carstairs, code name: Renegade, coming soon in Silhouette Intimate Moments.

Merline enjoys hearing from readers and can be reached by e-mail via Internet through Harlequin’s Web site.

This is for my dad, who flew high and flew proud.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Prologue

“I hear her!”

The figure swathed from head to foot in bright orange Extreme Cold Weather gear whooped with joy. “She’s punching through!”

His companion spun in a circle, searching the endless, unbroken surface of the polar ice cap. A dozen different shades of white dazzled his eye, shielded though they were by protective goggles. The blue white of the ice. The downy, cloud-soft drifts of glistening snow. The hazy, gray white of the sky that merged with the horizon.

“I don’t hear anything!”

“Listen!”

The frustrated listener threw back his hood. He risked losing an ear to biting wind that dropped the outside temperature to almost thirty below but was too eager to care at that moment. Then he, too, gave a shout of glee as a series of sharp cracks rifled through the air.

Suddenly, a scant forty yards away, the ice cap erupted. Huge white slabs pushed upward. Groaning, they rose straight into the air before toppling over with a crash. A moment later, the tip of a black conning tower poked through the crack.

“How do you like that! She’s right on target.”

Both men grinned. Sophisticated navigational equipment had guided the USS Hawkbill from Hawaii, but good old-fashioned muscle power had provided her surfacing site…a large X shoveled in the ice.

The two oceanographers raised their hands and clapped fur-lined mitts in a jubilant high five. After months at the remote laboratory one hundred and sixty-five miles north of Point Barrow, Alaska, they were ready—more than ready!—for a fresh infusion of supplies and outside conversation. Still grinning, they watched as the submarine’s conning tower rose a foot. Two feet. Ten.

The hulking body of the sub appeared, rolling great chunks of ice off its sides. When the hatch atop the conning tower opened and a hooded sailor appeared, the two men rushed forward.

“Boy, are we glad to see you!” the senior scientist shouted. “We’re down to the last battery for the underwater observation buoy.”

“We brought the spares you requested.” Bulky and awkward in his protective gear, the seaman climbed down the iron rungs riveted to the conning tower. “We’ll start unloading immediately.”

“We’ll help. Jack, bring up the snowmobile.”

Eager to get the valuable equipment unloaded and hauled back to the collection of huts connected by air-heated tunnels that formed the United States Arctic Oceanographic Research Station, the lead oceanographer threw an impatient glance over his shoulder.