Chains of Ice by Christina Dodd Read Free Book Online

the face didn’t match up. It was a lived-in face, a face that had seen a lot in his forty years, the face of a sun-worshiper, a drinker, a smoker, and. . . . And then he smiled.
    Genny caught her breath.
    Oh, yes, he was a womanizer, too. His hazel eyes crinkled in the corners, his generous lips quirked cynically, and his lived-in face reminded her of . . . of George Clooney. Reggie Caverlock was a charmer who had seduced many a girl out of her panties.
    “Good to meet you.” She tried to shake his hand. He kissed her knuckles.
    Avni bumped her shoulder. “Don’t pay attention to Reggie. He’s a piece of work.” But she sounded affectionate, as if he’d already kissed her knuckles. “I’m Avni Patel, this is my third year here, and I guess my last. I graduated from Oxford this year and I’m going back to India to work in wildlife studies there.”
    “We’ll miss her. Avni has been the best at catching and photographing lynx in daylight. They are seldom seen then, but she is able to remain so motionless, they don’t realize she is around.” Lubochka whipped around and glared once more at Brandon. “Unlike some people who fidget so much, we have only photos of the great cats’ hindquarters as they run away!”
    “I have bad luck,” Brandon muttered.
    Genny lifted her eyebrows at Avni.
    Avni pointed at Brandon and rubbed her fingertips together suggestively.
    He’d paid for the right to be here. So Genny wasn’t the only one.
    Lubochka introduced him abruptly. “Brandon Lam.”
    As Genny shook his hand, he squeezed it meaningfully. “I’ve been doing this two years. If you have any problems, you let me know and I’ll help you out.”
    “Thank you.” Genny already knew she wouldn’t go to him if she was being attacked by ten yetis.
    “Thorsen Rasmussen, an amateur observer so talented we invited him to drop in at any time.” Lubochka smiled at the tall, pale, thin Dane with obvious affection.
    Avni stood behind them and rubbed her fingers together again.
    Okay. So Genny needed to get together with Avni, because Avni was the one who had the goods on the team. “I need to use the restroom before we leave,” Genny said.
    “Me too.” Avni picked up her battered suitcase and headed toward the sign.
    Genny followed.
    “Hurry up. We’re late already,” Lubochka shouted.
    “I’ve got to go, too,” Brandon said.
    “No, you don’t.” Lubochka snapped her fingers at him like he was a dog. “You help Misha carry the bags.”
    In a loud, sullen voice, Brandon asked, “What is it with women having to go to the bathroom together?”
    “It’s so I can tell her what a snot you are, you little pipsqueak.” Avni projected her voice, too; then she and Genny hustled into the chipped, bare, utilitarian restroom.
    Genny looked around and grimaced.
    Avni laughed. “Europeans aren’t as fussy as Americans about their creature comforts, and the Russians are particularly hearty. Wait until you get to Rasputye. We’re at the inn, built before the 1917 Russian Revolution. It makes this look like luxury. Did you bring toilet paper?”
    “Camper’s TP.” Genny took one open stall.
    Avni took the other. “Guard it with your life.” She lowered her voice and talked fast. “The walls are thin everywhere in Russia, so always figure someone’s listening.”
    Genny looked around uneasily. “Got it.”
    “Here’s the deal. Lubochka will accept anyone on the team if they pay for the privilege. She’d make a pact with the devil himself to save even one of her lynxes. But she is absolutely uninterested in the team except as employees and fact-gatherers. She’ll throw your ass out if you don’t perform. Brandon had to pay more this year than last to come back because he’s such a loser.”
    “Like how much?” They were both chatting quickly.
    “I don’t know for sure, but I just finished my degree in wildlife studies, so I’m trained to the job; plus I’m good at what I do, and my father had to pay