Chapter 4 #2
But… she just couldn’t. Not when she still had so many unanswered questions about the last expedition that vanished into the ice.
Maybe it was reckless, but she needed answers.
The soft click of the glass door opening pulled her from her thoughts. She didn’t need to turn to know who it was—she smelled his cologne before Atlas Frost stepped onto the terrace.
“Beautiful view, isn’t it?” His voice was smooth as aged whiskey, but it didn’t warm her. Instead, it made her skin prickle with uncomfortable awareness.
“Personally, I’ve always preferred the view of nature to steel and glass.”
Frost studied the skyline as if searching for something specific, his breath clouding in the cold air. “I understand Elliot Wilde will be joining you for the expedition,” he said finally, his tone carefully neutral.
“That’s right.” She kept her expression open, guileless. “My fiancé wouldn’t miss it.”
“Fiancé.” Frost let the word hang between them. Then he smiled. “I should mention, Ms. Bristow, that certain investors expect discretion on this expedition.”
The warning bells in her head grew louder. “Discretion is my middle name.”
“And here I thought it was ‘adventure.’”
Rue matched his smile, though her stomach tightened. “A girl can have many talents.”
“Wilde Security’s presence could complicate certain…
delicate arrangements.” Frost’s voice dropped, the polished host veneer thinning to reveal something colder beneath.
“The so-called extension of the Antarctic Treaty exists on paper, but in practice, it’s ignored daily.
Nations, corporations, private interests… everyone violates it.”
“And?”
His lips thinned, but he stayed silent, his ice-blue eyes searching her face.
“You’re telling me things I already know, Frost. Antarctica is the new wild west. So unless you have something more useful to tell me…” She trailed off and waited.
Still, he said nothing, but this time, he looked back toward the windows at the crowd mingling inside his penthouse.
“Like maybe what you meant when you told my sister there are things in this world even you won’t sell?” she prompted. “Or why you said I should take someone I trust with me on this expedition?”
“Hence your fiancé ,” he said finally, leaning on the word with a faint sneer of disdain.
She narrowed her eyes at him. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think he was jealous. But no way. Atlas Frost was a lot of mostly unflattering things, but he wasn’t a man who felt anything as petty as jealousy.
“Yes, because I trust Elliot more than anyone.”
He didn’t reply to that. Instead, he faced her. The winter wind ruffled his black hair as electric blue eyes zeroed in on her like lasers. “Antarctica isn’t the wild west, Ms. Bristow. It’s a chessboard. And the investors funding your little trip don’t like pawns who wander too close to the kings.”
The threat was there, wrapped in silk, but undeniable. Her fingers tightened on the railing. “You’re the investor.”
His smile slipped, and she swore she heard him mutter, “Not by choice,” before a man called his name from inside, and his smirk returned.
He raised his glass at the man, then turned back to her.
His eyes were unreadable in the dim light.
“Enjoy your evening, Ms. Bristow. And do try to stay warm out there.”
Before he could turn away, she caught his arm. “What aren’t you telling me?”
For a moment, she thought he might actually answer her, might drop the cryptic warnings and tell her what the hell was really going on.
Instead, he looked down at where her fingers gripped his expensive suit, and something dangerously close to regret flashed across his hawkish features, making him look almost human. “I wish it wasn’t you going.”
Shocked, she dropped her hand and backed up a step. “What?”
“Nothing.” Frost pulled back, the mask of the calculating businessman slipping back into place. “Just make sure you keep Wilde on a tight leash. I’d hate for his company’s... interests to interfere with our expedition.”
With that, he turned and glided back toward the glass doors, leaving Rue alone with the biting wind and the unsettling feeling that she was walking into something far more dangerous than extreme weather.
And she was dragging Elliot along with her.
God, she never should’ve involved him.
The glass door slid open again, and Elliot’s broad shoulders filled the space Frost had left empty beside her. Relief flooded through her so suddenly, it was almost embarrassing. His calm presence felt like a lifeline in the sea of uncertainty Frost had left behind.
“There you are,” he said. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“Just needed some air.” She tried to keep her tone light despite the tension coiling tighter in her chest. “It was getting a bit stuffy in there.”
Elliot moved to stand beside her, his shoulder nearly touching hers as he leaned against the railing. The warmth radiating from him made her realize how cold she’d actually gotten.
“You’re freezing.” He shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over her shoulders before she could protest. The gesture was so simple, so Elliot, and the fabric carried his scent—clean soap and something sweet and woodsy that was pure comfort.
“Thanks,” she murmured, pulling it closer around herself and resisting the urge to bury her nose in the lapel.
“Was that Frost I saw leaving?” he asked.
She nodded and turned to stare out at the city lights. “He wanted to remind me that WSW’s presence might ‘complicate delicate arrangements.’”
Elliot’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t seem surprised. “Sounds like a threat.”
“I don’t know that it was.” She turned to face him and lowered her voice. “El, I think he was trying to warn me.”
“Warn you?”
“In his own way.”
“Of what?”
“I don’t know.”
He scowled down at her, and she held up a hand before he could protest.
“Scout’s honor. I really don’t know.”
“You were never a Girl Scout, Trouble.” His scowl only deepened, an adorable line of worry forming between his brows. “You think they’re after something dangerous down there.”
She hesitated. “I think… I just dragged you into a situation that’s way more complicated than I realized.”
Elliot’s gaze met hers, steady and sure. “I knew what I was signing up for.”
“Did you?” She searched his face. “Because I’m not sure I did.”
He reached out to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind her ear, his hand lingering there in a way that made her heart do a stupid little flip. “You know we don’t have to go. We can walk in there and tell Frost to take his money and shove it somewhere very uncomfortable.”
Right. He still thought this was about the obscene amount of money Frost had offered her. After all, that was what she’d told her sister when Rowan questioned why she’d take such a job, but it wasn’t the whole truth.
And Elliot deserved to know.
But when she opened her mouth to tell him, she caught sight of Atlas watching them through the window. He lifted his glass slightly before turning back to his companion, and the words caught in her throat.
Her gaze returned to Elliot to find him watching her with those worried, all-too-knowing eyes. His knuckles brushed her cheek. “Rue, you can talk to me. What’s really going on?”
Was he safer not knowing, or was she putting him in more danger by not telling him the true reason she had to go to Antarctica?
Maren’s face flashed in her mind—laughing during their training session, then serious as she’d pulled Rue aside before leaving for Antarctica.
“If anything happens to me, don’t trust the official story,” Maren had said.
And then she’d vanished. Just like that. Swallowed by the ice, with only a terse report citing “equipment failure” and “extreme weather conditions” as the cause.
No, she couldn’t tell him. Yet. While she trusted him more than just about anyone else on earth—she hadn’t been lying when she told Atlas that—she needed more information before she dragged him deeper into this.
She drew a shaky breath and let it out, watching it cloud between them. “Can we get out of here?”