"Please don't say that." The plea was unconvincing.
"I love you more than I thought it was possible to love anyone. I've loved you since I saw you beside the fire at Karinhall but didn't fully admit it myself until you fell and for a terrible moment I thought I'd lost you forever. I love you and would rather die than not have you. I'd half died before I met you. I'd gone numb after Antarctica." He kissed, finding her neck, her cheek, her lips, the tip of her tongue. "And you made me alive again…"
"Owen, please, I'm still confused, I think this may be wrong…"
"You know it isn't wrong."
"It must be. Jürgen, the expedition…" But then she kissed him, hard and hungry, aching, unfolding her arms to grasp his shoulders. She broke away to gasp. "This is so irrational, so emotional…"
"You know how right this feels." He kissed her again.
"So unscientific…"
"To hell with science."
Her eyes were wet, luminous, her breath coming in quick gasps. She blinked them shut. "I think I love you too, and it makes me afraid. That I love you so much."
He stroked her back, the wet cotton on her rump, and she arched under his hand, sighing. "You'll catch a chill unless you get all these things off," he whispered in her ear, his voice thick.
Greta bit her lower lip and nodded. She broke free and turned, presenting her back. He unfastened her bra and she let it drop, the white straps slipping down her white arms. Hart could see the ripe swell of her breasts at her sides. Then she tugged her panties down too, wiggling a bit to get them off her hips, her bottom round and firm. Bending, she laid her underwear on the rocks, carefully smoothing. Then she turned to face him, naked, trembling. She held out her hand.
"Your laundry, Mr. Hart?"
He peeled off his undershirt and shorts and gave them to her. He was erect and rock hard, his blood pounding in his ears. He was shaking too. How long? he thought. How long since he'd been with a woman he truly loved?
She tossed his things on the rocks.
And then they were together again, she melting against him this time, clutching desperately, opening her mouth to his kisses, hungry for them, and an exultant roaring filled his head that blotted out the sound of the river. His hands ran down her back, slipped over her buttocks, felt her soaking wetness, and his penis was nuzzled by her damp fur as she pressed hard against him. He cradled a breast.
And as he bent to kiss her stiff nipples her hair enclosed their faces for a moment like a tent to create an intimacy. "My God, Owen, I have felt so alone …"
He carried her to the blankets then, she curled in his arms with her face pressed into his neck. He knelt to lay her down gently. And then he held and stroked and kissed her for a long time, she unfolding to him, stretching, their bodies growing heated. And eventually her cries echoed in the grotto. Unheard by anyone but them.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Something was wrong. The Schwabenland was still coupled to the Bergen and the seaplane tender had righted itself, the repairs to its torn hull apparently done. Yet crewmen were running along its decks in seeming panic. Sailors were shouting orders and hoisting cargo back into the Germans' hold and the ship's stack was already smoking. The seaplane tender was preparing to get underway, some of its supply crates still scattered on the beach. Meanwhile, clouds were mounding over the crater. The weather was turning bad again.
The two spelunkers had been dirty but happy after their climb out of the cave. "Light!" Greta exclaimed with relief at the mouth of the lava tube. She hugged Hart and he kissed her again, grinning, and they marched along the crater shore in a contented mood of new partnership. But when the motor launch came to ferry the couple back to the ship they awkwardly reverted to a pose of proper distance. Out on the Schwabenland they saw the figure of Jürgen Drexler on the wing of the bridge, watching them stiffly.
"Let me talk to him," Greta whispered.
They left their gear on deck, the biologist removing one bottle from her pack and slipping it into her pocket. Schmidt met them on their way to the bridge.
"Did you go into the valley?"
They shook their heads.
He appraised them warily. "Come on, then. It should be safe."
"I'd like to see Jürgen alone," Greta said.
"No time for that now."
Ordinary seamen had been dismissed from the bridge but Heiden, Feder, and Drexler were there. There was an uncomfortable silence as the Germans studied the couple, trying to assess how much had happened. Greta let her gaze drift to the ship's wheel. Owen stared back evenly. Jürgen stood rigid, his humiliation at her recent absence plain. The political liaison couldn't keep his eyes from flickering from one to the other.
Finally Heiden spoke. "We thought you were dead."
"We went to Owen's cave," Greta said, now glancing at Drexler. He stonily looked back. "At my request. To study the underground biology of the island."
"You left the ship without permission," the captain complained. "You were absent without leave. That's tantamount to desertion."
"We're not in the navy, for Christ's sake," Hart replied.
"You go overnight and leave no word?" Drexler's voice was tight. "We were frantic with worry." He looked at Greta. "I thought you'd caught the disease."
She shook her head. "No, we left to investigate a scientific hypothesis. To explore."
"And did you find what you were looking for?" Feder asked slyly. He looked from the couple to Drexler, striving to keep a straight face.
Greta ignored him.
Drexler's gaze fixed on Hart. "That was irresponsible and in violation of every safety procedure and you know it. You could have killed her."
"That's ripe, coming from a guy who's had her culturing plague viruses. She's here, isn't she?"
"Looking like you dragged her behind a truck!"
"Listen, why don't you— "
"Enough!" The roar was Heiden's. He pointed at them as Drexler had, his finger accusatory. "You both know you broke every commonsense safety rule of this ship. Leaving like that was irresponsible, and caves are dangerous." He shook his head in disgust. "You're lucky you returned when you did or we might have left you behind. We're departing as soon as possible."
"Leaving?" Greta protested.
"Some of the men are sick. With the Bergen's disease, we think. It's time to flee before more die."
"Oh my God!"
"Who?" said Hart.
"A squad of the mountaineers. They were exploring that dry valley. Schultz, some others."
"How many?"
"Five. No, six. The mountaineers and Eckermann."
"What!"
"I thought it was time Fritz exercised his legs as well as his mouth," Drexler said grimly. "Now his wit has gotten him into trouble."
"Jesus Christ. Are they in the infirmary?"
"No, ashore."
"You'd better tell us what happened," Greta said worriedly, looking at Drexler with dismay.
"We don't really know," said Heiden. "Eckermann radioed from near the crater rim this morning. He reported they'd entered the valley the day before and by yesterday evening some of the men began developing symptoms. He said he still felt fine and was going back to help. The source of the contagion remains unclear, though he babbled about dust. In any event we can't take chances and jeopardize the expedition. They haven't radioed again and we've no sign of them. We're going to leave before someone comes down with the disease here."
"You're just going to abandon them?" Hart asked, incredulous.
"Under the circumstances we have no choice. We don't know where they are and can't help them medically if we did. Even if we could get them back aboard they might turn this ship into another Bergen. It's time to leave this cursed place. It was a mistake to send them, perhaps, but what's done is done. The crew is near panic."