"What else is there?"

"I hope there's more."

"A little late for introductions," Gem said without a flicker of a lash, "but go ahead."

Austin tamped down a rejoinder. Gem wasn't going to make it easy for her. Fair enough. "You already know that I'm the point man for GOP in the developing situation out at the rig."

"How long have you been doing it?" Gem hadn't planned on asking any personal questions, but she couldn't help herself. She wanted to know more about Austin. She wanted to know something about her that she could believe-facts, not feelings.

"About five years," Austin said. "I started out as an engineering consultant, but it turns out I'm pretty good at interfacing with the media too."

"So you're not just a good-looking mouthpiece."

Austin let out a sigh. "I'd say thanks but I don't think there's a compliment in there. No, I'm not a PR person-in cases like this the media want to talk to the people on the ground, the ones with oil on their hands. I fit that bill."

Gem pounced. "So why are you here if there's no spill?"

"Are you also an attorney along with your other degrees?" Austin thought she saw a fleeting smile.

"No, that's my brother," Gem said.

"We don't have a spill, but we do have a leak."

"Fine distinction."

"An important one." Austin took her through the early response actions Tatum and Reddy had instituted.

"And Spencer?"

"The rig is a big float, more or less. They don't tip if carefully balanced and adjusted for dynamic ocean conditions-with the storm surge, the best information will come from assessing the situation right at sea level," Austin said. "Plus Claudia will liaise with the federal and state scientific support teams, when and if we get to that point."

"How bad is the leak?"

"Manageable, possibly containable under other circumstances, but as I told you and the others earlier, I don't think we can get out of this without some tangible spill."

"I don't have much experience with this stage of things," Gem said. "I was in the Gulf after Deepwater Horizon, but only during the rescue phase." Even now she could remember the bone-weary hours and mind-numbing devastation. The weeks she'd spent attempting to save the hundreds of birds trapped in the oil spills had been heartbreaking work. So many they hadn't been able to save. "There was oil everywhere."

"We're not going to let that happen here," Austin said determinedly. "We're ahead of things now, because with Deepwater, they didn't have any warning and they couldn't get booms and floats in place fast enough. We can."

Gem had seen the huge lines of floats and the skimmers vacuuming oil from the surface of the water, and she'd seen the coastline drenched in oil that drowned the sea life, starved the waterfowl, and ravaged the ecosystem for decades to come. "What if it gets past the booms? Can we keep it offshore?"

Austin felt Gem's probing gaze, knew Gem was looking for truth, and she had to convince her she was capable of it, for more reasons than the job. "We're hoping it won't even get that far. The booms are backup. Our first choice is to burn it right on the surface when it emerges."

"Isn't it dangerous-burning so close to your rig?"

"We've had plenty of experience with it."

Gem knew it couldn't be that simple. "How likely are you to be able to do all this with the hurricane coming?"

"The burn may be enough. Even the storm isn't likely to extinguish it."

The edge of Gem's anger and resentment dulled as she envisioned Austin and the others on a floating platform miles out in the ocean, corralling a burning oil slick with the hurricane bearing down on them. "That sounds insane."

Austin grinned thinly. "The whole idea of sinking a twelve-inch drill shaft miles down into the surface of the earth from a floating platform is pretty crazy too. But believe it or not, the safety record is pretty damn good. The crews are the best."

Of course Austin was going to say that, but Gem couldn't help imagining the risk. A frisson of fear skittered down her spine. "I suppose you have to be out there during all of this."

Austin lifted a shoulder. "As you said, I'm not just a mouthpiece."

Gem pressed her fingers to her eyes. "I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. I'm a little off balance. Things have been moving so quickly."

"I know," Austin murmured, aching to touch her, aching even more to know she wasn't welcome. "In more ways than one. Gem, I'm sorry you found all this out this way."

Gem leaned back in her chair and let out a long breath. Austin didn't deserve her bitterness, not when a big part of her anger was directed at herself. She'd gone willingly into Austin's arms, and looking at her now, so close, so damn electrifying, she wanted to again. "Why don't we agree to set our personal issues aside. I don't want you out there thinking about anything except what you're doing. And Lord knows, I'm going to have enough to think about here."

"I'd agree with you," Austin said, "but I don't really think I can do that. I haven't stopped thinking about you since the minute we met."

"Don't," Gem said softly.

"Don't what? Tell you the truth? Isn't that why you're angry, because you think I didn't?"

"Partly," Gem admitted. "But only partly. I'm just as angry at myself for falling into something for completely irrational reasons."

"Don't you mean falling into bed with me?"

"Not just falling into bed," Gem murmured, afraid to admit and unable to deny her feelings were much more than just sexual attraction. She couldn't use chemistry as an excuse. Her attraction to Austin had always been more than physical, and time didn't seem to be of any consequence. Their connection had been deep and terribly, wonderfully personal from the beginning. Heaven help her, she'd been falling in love with her since the minute she'd met her. "This isn't the time for this."

"It's never been time-it's just been right," Austin said, finally taking a chance. She slid her hand across the table and rested her fingertips on the top of Gem's balled fist. "I know you're angry and you don't trust me. But just believe this one thing-when I touched you, when you touched me, it was real. Everything you felt and you sensed from me was real."

"I can't think about that right now," Gem whispered.

Austin nodded, rewarded by the softening in Gem's eyes. "All right, then we'll work."

"Let me see your maps," Gem said, slowly pulling her hand away.

Austin turned her laptop toward Gem and pulled up the aerials of the coastline. "We don't have a lot of time, so I want to optimize our positioning of the booms." She pointed a finger. "These show the projected direction of currents and the way the oil is likely to flow if it escapes the burn. Where are the key areas we need to blockade?"

Gem pointed to several places on the map. "These are estuaries leading into the sanctuary. They feed much of the salt marsh, which is critical as both habitat and feeding ground. Contamination here is likely to destroy much of the essential vegetation and trap a great many of the birds."

"Where will you stage the recovery operations, if necessary?"

"Initially at the sanctuary, until we can set up mobile decontamination stations."

"How many people?"

Gem winced. "As many as we can muster. It takes about an hour per bird to wash the oil clear, get them rehydrated and fed, prior to relocation."

"That's a lot of man-hours."

"We lose a lot because we just can't get to them in time."

Austin would do anything to drive the clouds from Gem's eyes. "We'll seed the water between the booms and the shoreline with emulsifiers and chemical solvents if anything gets past the blockades. With the storm surge, though, our best hope is for the oil never to get this far."

"So we're back to the burn again," Gem said.

Austin nodded. "Best case. I need to get back out to the rig."

Gem's stomach tightened. "I'm going to be busy organizing the ground teams, but you'll...keep in touch?"

"Of course."

Gem struggled with the line between personal and professional, a line she'd crossed unwittingly once. She knew better now, crossing it willingly as she reached for Austin's hand. "You'll be careful, won't you."

Austin closed her fingers around Gem's, the link easing the pain in her chest. "I will. You too."

"I'm not the one sitting on top of the powder keg."

Chapter Twenty-two.

Gem found Emily where she expected her to be, kneeling in the sand on the beach, a baseball cap pulled low over her brow, her red hair flying in the wind, gently applying tiny tracking sensors with acrylic compound to the shells of the baby turtles breaking free of their eggs. The rain held off, but the sky was an angry blanket of gray. She imagined she could feel the storm at her back, thought of the oil rig bobbing on the vast sea, isolated and vulnerable, and how small and defenseless its human inhabitants. Pushing worries about Austin to the back of her mind did nothing to quell the twist of anxiety that coiled in her middle. Gritting her teeth, she knelt in the sand next to Emily. "What can I do?"

"Keep an eye out for stragglers and try to direct them toward the water." Emily's face was fierce, the muscles along her jaw tight and strained. "We're going to lose a lot of them if I can't get the unhatched eggs out in time."

"Can you incubate them in the center?"

"For a while, if we hold power and the whole damn place doesn't blow away." She pushed a strand of damp hair away from her cheek. "Damn it, why now?"

Gem gently redirected a half-dollar sized turtle down the slope toward the water and watched it make its staggering way into the frothy sea. Under ordinary circumstances, most would die before they ever reached the sanctuary of the water. Even if they did find their way to the safety of the sea with a little help from her and Emily, the majority would succumb to larger predators before they ever reached adulthood. Still, more would have a chance to survive with their help, and she didn't feel the least bit guilty thwarting the natural cycle of things, considering how much humans had done to destroy the habitat of these creatures. She'd never be able to even the score.

"There are three more clutches in this area alone," Emily said. "Who knows what might be elsewhere along the coast, and-"

"We can't get to them all," Gem said gently. "But we can look after the ones here."

Emily blew out a breath and sat back on her heels, glancing out to sea. "I've never been through one up close. Have you?"

"No. Some pretty heavy tropical storms, and lots of the aftermath." Gem watched a golf-ball-sized eggshell fracture and a miniscule head pop out. "At least we've got some time to prepare. Where's the rest of your help?"

"I sent them to help Joe board up the cabin windows and lock down the center." Emily balanced a solar-powered tracker on her fingertip and applied the glue, her attention on the emerging hatchling. "Where do you figure we'll ride this out?"

"Once we know for sure it's coming, and when, we'll set up a command center in the village, on high ground. I called the town supervisor right before I came out, and he's promised us a couple of rooms at town hall. Hopefully, we won't need them for long."

"I guess we can always relocate to the FEMA trailers."

Gem grimaced. "Not my first choice. I want to get back into the center as soon as we can."

"I'm with you." As Emily talked, she adroitly caught, tagged, and released the turtle and sent it on its way. Answering some innate imperative, a stream of the hatchlings straggled down the beach toward the surf. An occasional gull swooped low, hoping for an easy catch, but a shout and a wave of the arm from Emily or Gem was enough to dissuade them. Once the hatchlings reached the water and headed out to the protection of the plankton patches, they were on their own.

"I'll grab a couple more hands for you," Gem said, "so you can get the other clutches extracted and stored."

"Thanks."

"You sure you want to stay through the storm?"

"Jeremy's not too happy about it, but he'll cope." Emily grinned. "The kids are really annoyed they're missing all the fun. I don't plan on going anywhere."

Gem squeezed her shoulder. "Thanks."

The thump-thump-thump of a helicopter caught her attention and she glanced up to watch it turn course out over the ocean. She wondered if Austin was aboard. I haven't stopped thinking about you since the minute we met. A dark thrill raced through her, remembering the heavy-lidded languor in Austin's eyes when they'd lain together naked, caressing, enticing, seducing. No, she hadn't stopped thinking about her either, even when she'd tried. And now every thought was undercut with fear.

"I guess the GOP people have headed back out," Emily said with her uncanny ability to read Gem's mind.

"Yes."

"Talk about a perfect storm."

"Ironic term for it," Gem muttered.

"How is it, working with Austin?" Emily rose and brushed sand from the knees of her cargo pants. "Here, carry this."

Gem grabbed the backpack filled with equipment and followed Emily down the beach. "It's fine. We've both got jobs to do, and we agreed to keep things professional."

"Aha, professional. Very mature." Emily cut her a glance and carefully stepped over the yellow tape surrounding another square of beach. "Really, Gem? From the looks of things, the two of you were on fire. Now you're going to be cool and professional?"

"Damn it, what choice do I have." Gem hunkered down with her back to the rising wind. "It's not like we'd been dating or anything, more like-hell, I don't know what we've been doing."

"Well, if it was me, I'd kick her ass."

Gem grinned.

"Hand me that spade," Emily said, knowing with some sixth sense exactly where the clutch was located. Gem played first assistant as Emily worked.

"It's not as if she's completely responsible," Gem said. "There were two of us in that bed, you know."

Emily looked up, quirked a brow. "Uh-huh. I got that part. Don't tell me you're not steamed about her keeping a whopper of a secret."

Secrets. They'd always been her undoing. Paul's secret fantasies, Christie's secret desires, even her own. For years, she'd been a secret to herself, unable or unwilling to recognize her true needs. She'd promised herself never to fall victim to secrets again, and at the first surge of passion she'd fallen. "I haven't forgotten."

"I like the way she looks at you," Emily said matter-of-factly.

"I'm sorry?"