Edge of Survival by Toni Anderson

diabetes can attack me just as easily in a lab as in the field.” She thumped her fist flat against the table.
    He laughed, which surprised him and annoyed her. When the hell was the last time he really laughed?
    She stood and planted her hands on her waist and got in his face. “You think this is funny?”
    He could smell the soap on her skin, the sharp tang of sweet shampoo which made him want to draw a deep breath and move in closer.
    Suddenly her eyes sparked. “Hey, doesn’t the SAS specialize in living off the land? Don’t you know how to catch char?”
    He huffed out a cross between a grunt and a laugh. “Aren’t you the biologist?” he countered. “Shouldn’t you be the expert on catching fish?”
    “I’m a physiologist, not a fisherman. I usually get my fish from a hatchery.” She started pacing. “Goddamn. Why does it have to be so difficult?”
    There was a brief silence during which the answer to her problem flashed through his brain.
    “So all you need to complete your study are some fish?”
    “Yeah.” She pressed her lips together. “Believe it or not, all I need to complete a migration study are a few migrating fish.”
    “I might be able to help you.” He realized he was staring at her lips, so he shifted his focus to her eyes, which shone like feldspar. Fucking great. Thankfully she couldn’t see his eyes because he wore dark shades—all the better to hide hangovers with.
    He made to angle around her, but was body-blocked. She stumbled and he grabbed her just to make sure she didn’t fall. It had nothing to do with wanting to touch her again. And his grandmother was the star performer of Cirque du Soleil.
    “How…” She drew the word out into a full sentence, placing her hand on his chest as if that would stop him from moving. Oddly enough, it did. “Can you help me?”
    He could feel the edges of his lips begging to crack into a grin. “Have you had your insulin and breakfast?”
    “Ugh. Why does that sound so unappetizing?”
    He backed up a step. “If you want my help, you need to answer my questions.” He stared her down while she gave him a death glare. Most people gave him extra-wide personal space, but despite everything that had passed between them over the past few days, she didn’t seem at all scared of him. Maybe she knew he was all bluster and no balls. When she didn’t answer he took another step back and she threw up her hands in exasperation.
    “Okay, yes, great master. Yes , I took my shot and ate copious amounts of oatmeal. Now.” She stared at him so intently, he thought she might grab him if he so much as moved. And that was so tempting he held himself perfectly still. “What have you got that I want?” she asked.
    The Doc was not referring to sex even though his ever-ready body was trying to twist it that way. “Grab your stuff. Meet me by the chopper.” He started out of the room to complete the daily inspection of the aircraft, but before he could brush past her she raised a brow and ran her eyes down his body.
    “This better not be about your dinky again—”
    “Dinky?” He snorted. God, she was funny. And fearless. “I do not have a dinky.” He tried to look insulted but a fresh rush of amusement ran though him. “A donkey, maybe.” He took another step, determined for once to have the last word.
    “ You are a donkey,” she muttered.
    And though he tried to ram it down into that deep, dark place inside him, he couldn’t help the laugh that escaped.
    ***
    They were flying directly into the sun. Cam blinked to clear her vision.
    A thin tangle of smoke was rising in the distance. As they got closer, she saw an old cabin. Someone lived here surrounded by miles upon miles of untouched, uninhabited wilderness.
    The isolation pressed down like a physical force. Who in their right mind would live out here? She enjoyed her own company but this was different. This was like being part of the fabric of nature, not civilization. And for all she