Pushing The Limits. Katherine Garbera

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Pushing The Limits - Katherine Garbera


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      JESSIE ODELL STOOD in the corner as the party raged on. The gala for the new Mick Tanner Training Facility was in full swing at the Bar T Ranch just outside of Cole’s Hill, Texas. Astronauts, astronaut candidates, government officials and private investors ready to fund missions that would take humanity to Mars all mingled in the converted barn. But she’d had enough of talking about her adventures and the famous people she’d met. That part of her life ended when Alexi slipped into the crevasse on Everest. When she hadn’t been able to save him.

      She’d known that when she got back to base camp the grief would hit her...except it never had. She’d become icy inside and out. Her old life of making adventure films for television was over—both the thin mountain air and the drive compelling her to move forward. She was tired of having every moment of her life played out for the cameras. She was ready for some privacy.

      So this job at the new Cronus mission training center had been a godsend.

      “Don’t like parties much?” a man asked, coming up on her left to lean against the poorly lit wall.

      “Not really,” she admitted. He was hard to see clearly in the shadows, just a silhouette of a man in a well-fitting tuxedo. She could tell he was taller than she was—which was saying something, as she was five foot ten and wearing three-inch heels. Her mother had told her to never apologize or cower because of her height and she never had. It was part of her and she couldn’t hide it.

      “Me either,” he said. “I’m Thor, by the way.”

      “Jessie. Thor, huh? You don’t look Nordic.”

      He laughed and it made her smile, the sound loud and joyful, not low and subtle the way Alexi’s had been.

      “Yeah. Sorry, it’s a force of habit when I’m talking to NASA guys. I guess I should have introduced myself as Hemi. Hemi Barrett. Thor’s my call sign and what I answer to. I’m part of the astronaut crew training for the first Cronus mission,” he said, stepping from the shadows and holding out his hand.

      “You sound American but that name is Maori, right?”

      “Yeah. On my mom’s side. She and my pops met in Hawaii and I was raised in LA.”

      His strong jaw and dark stubble accentuated the fullness of his lips. She stared at his mouth for much longer than was acceptable, feeling a spark of instant attraction. She’d never had that before. Normally her sexual desire grew out of friendship with a man.

      But this was different. He was different. And this was definitely lust.

      His eyes were like melted dark chocolate, decadent and sinful. His skin was tanned and there were laugh lines around his eyes as well as a one-inch scar on his forehead above his right eye. There was also a birthmark around his right eye. The Maori people called those with these marks ngā kanohi ora o rātou mā kua wehe atu, which meant “the living faces of those who have gone on before us.” Many believed that the wearer had been marked by the gods for greatness.

      He arched one eyebrow at her and she realized she must be staring at him, but she didn’t care. She had grown up surrounded by nature. Her first instincts were always driven by the laws of the wild. In the animal kingdom, and in life, she’d found she never regretted not backing down.

      She’d spent time with a Maori family on one of her New Zealand adventures. She had also read the personnel files of each of the candidates. But a report couldn’t capture the personality of Hemi.

      His lips curled in a half smile and he took a step closer. She put her hand out, settling it on his arm, feeling the strength in him under the fabric of his suit jacket. She flexed her fingers. All the men she’d known were lean from surviving in the wilderness. Not him. He was muscled, with coiled strength inside.

      His handshake was firm but not meant to intimidate.

      “Jessie Odell.” He said her name with a hint of awe. That meant he’d seen her show or read her books.

      “Yes.”

      “Wow. I used to watch your parents’ show when I was a kid,” he said.

      Well, thank God for that. She was a part of so many people’s childhoods because of those shows. Her parents—marine biologists—had followed in the footsteps of Jacques Cousteau and had brought her along on their yacht as they filmed their adventures. She’d rather talk about her childhood than her last ascent up Everest. She needed to distance herself from that, which was why she was here in Texas, in a job that would be a cakewalk compared to what she’d done before.

      “I bet you hear that a lot,” he said.

      “Some. Other people want to hear what it was like to snowshoe in the Arctic.”

      “That’s cool,” he said with a wink. “But I’ve been to space.”

      She laughed and it surprised her. She hadn’t expected to laugh tonight, but he was right. She was in a room full of men and women who’d done something extraordinary, as well.

      “What’s it like?” she asked.

      “Buy me a drink and we can exchange stories. I want to hear about the time you were in the shark cage off Africa.”

      “It’s an open bar,” she pointed out.

      “Then you have nothing to lose,” he said.

      “Okay, let’s go.”

      They maneuvered through the crowd, where she saw her friend Molly Tanner, owner of the Bar T, dancing with her fiancé, Ace McCoy. Ace would be leading the long-term space mission to build a way station halfway between Earth and Mars.

      “Ace has it all,” Hemi said, following her gaze.

      “Does he?”

      “Yeah. He’s got a great fiancée, he’s first crew member and leader of the Cronus mission and he’s got this training facility up and running.”

      “Do you want all that?” she asked.

      He shrugged. “That’s not really a first date kind of question.”

      “This is a first date?” But she felt a little embarrassed that she’d asked too intimate a question. Usually, when she met people, they were on their way to do something daring, happy to answer intimate questions because there was a risk that not everyone would make it back alive. But he was different. She was curious about him. She’d spent a lot of time working around the world and was usually the outsider. People were used to her asking questions, and at times she forgot herself and followed her own curiosity.

      “I’m hoping,” he said, with a wink.

      That put her at ease a little bit. He had charm, she’d give him that. With his looks and body he probably didn’t have to work too hard to get women to fall for him. “We’ll see. I still don’t know what kind of story you’re offering in exchange for hearing about ten-year-old me and a great white.”

      “The time I did a space walk and became untethered...”

      “Obviously you made it back,” she said.

      “Obviously, but it was pretty dicey for a little while. What’s your poison?” he asked as they got to the bar.

      Yak butter tea. But she knew that wasn’t what he meant. “I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

      “Ah, I don’t drink,” he said. “I have to keep my body in top condition. How do you think I’m doing?”

      She let her gaze skim down his body. His shoulders were muscled, his broad chest tapered to a lean waist and long legs. She arched one eyebrow. “You look good, but it could be the cut of your clothes.”

      He shook his head. “Play your cards right and I might let you see me out of them.”

      She rolled her eyes at him. It was an over-the-top comment and he knew it. He ordered them each a cranberry juice and


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