Dangerous Encounters: A Romantic Suspense Boxed Set

by Farrar, Marissa

  The cool water felt blissful against her sun-tightened skin. The salt from all the sea water had left her skin dried out and uncomfortable, and she’d discovered no amount of washing in salt water ever made her feel completely clean. Near the edge, the pool was shallow enough for her to touch the bottom, but as she swam out, she found the depth fell away.

  Wanting to wash the salt from her hair and face, she held her breath and dropped beneath the water.

  Suddenly, the memory of plunging beneath the waves after they’d jumped from the plane caught her in its grasp. Just like when she’d first entered the water, she lost sense of which way was up. Panic took over, and her arms flailed. Though she’d only been under the water for a matter of seconds, her lungs felt like they were going to burst. Terror that she’d open her mouth and take a deep lungful of water filled her.

  Something large splashed into the water nearby, the sound hollow to her water-logged ears, and the next moment hands grabbed her and pulled her to the surface. Her face broke into fresh air, and she coughed and spluttered. Tyler’s arms were around her, and she found herself clutched to his chest. He swam back to the edge of the pool where Charlie’s feet were able to find solid ground, and Tyler stood only chest deep. His t-shirt was soaked and clung to his body.

  He reached out and pushed her wet hair from her face. “You okay?”

  She nodded, willing her trembling to subside. “Yes, sorry.” She was mortified by her near drowning. “I had a weird moment.”

  “Flashback?”

  She glanced away from him. “Yeah, something like that.”

  “It’s perfectly normal, Charlie. P.T.S.”

  She brought her gaze back to his. “What?”

  “Post Traumatic Stress. You’ve gone through a big trauma. It’s only normal you’ll experience side effects.”

  She stared up into his dark eyes, fixed so intently on her face, and the rest of the world vanished. She suddenly forgot the reason they were there, the horror that had occurred over the past couple of days, the possibility of them never being rescued. All she could think about was the way he looked at her, as though the only thing that mattered in the world to him was her.

  His fingers touched her hair again, and then slipped down to her cheek, the backs of his knuckles grazing her jaw line. Her breath caught in anticipation. He lowered his face to hers, and her eyes slipped shut. His lips pressed, soft and warm, his stubble rasping against her skin. One hand moved around the back of her neck, and the intensity of the kiss deepened, their mouths opening, and tongues meeting. His other hand wrapped around her waist, pressing against her lower back and meshing their bodies together.

  The water stirred around them, the sun beating down on their heads and shoulders. A low moan escaped Charlie’s throat, and she had to stop herself from wrapping her legs around Tyler’s hips and pressing the part of her that wanted him the most against him.

  But to her surprise, Tyler broke the kiss and stepped away through the water, angling his body away from her.

  He shook his head. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. It was unprofessional of me.”

  “Unprofessional?”

  “I took advantage of you when you were vulnerable.”

  “Tyler, I’m a grown woman.”

  “Please, Charlie.” He lifted a hand to stop her. “Let’s not mention it again.”

  She wanted the ground to open up and swallow her. She was already mortified by her near drowning, and now he had kissed her, and then told her to forget it happened.

  Tyler hauled himself out of the pool. He leaned down and reached his hand out to her.

  “I’m fine,” she muttered. “I can get out by myself.”

  “Just let me help you.”

  She reached out and took his hand. The muscles in his forearm strained as he pulled her from the pool, though he showed no sign of exertion on his face.

  “I suggest we fill the bottles,” he said, without looking at her. “And then head back to the beach.”

  Charlie picked up her clothes and pulled them back on over the wet bikini. She wanted to vanish, but as that couldn’t happen, she at least wanted to be fully dressed.

  “Then we need to think about food,” he continued, falling back into the practical persona. “We need to keep our energy up.”

  “Sure.”

  Wouldn’t want your lack of energy to interfere with you doing your job, she thought bitterly.

  Tyler picked up the empty plastic bottles they’d brought, and began to methodically refill them beneath the small opening in the rock face. She tried not to be distracted by the way his clothes, now soaking wet, clung to his back, thighs and ass.

  “Before night falls again,” he said, finishing with one bottle and filling the next, “we should try to figure out a way to create a shelter from the parachute material. Hopefully, it will keep some of those pesky rats out that seem so keen on becoming your friend.”

  She felt like he was trying to make up for him ending the kiss, but inside, a sullen little ball had formed deep in her chest. She couldn’t bring herself to be gracious toward him just yet. His words replayed in her mind; unprofessional. He didn’t give a shit about her. He still thought of her as his job.

  “That would be good,” she managed to mutter.

  Seemingly oblivious to her hurt feelings, Tyler continued. “Tomorrow, I plan on heading deeper into the island. Those cliffs seem to cut off the island half way, so I’ve not been able to get a decent look at what’s on the other side. The only option I have is finding a boat, which isn’t going to happen, so I need to spend the day hiking there. There’s not enough light left today, so I’ll go at daybreak.”

  A spark of hope fired inside her. “Do you think there might be people on the other side?”

  He stood from the rock face, each of the bottles now full at his feet, and shook his head. “No, there’s no one else here but us, Charlie. If there were, there’d be different kinds of debris on the beach, but so far the only stuff that’s washed up, other than all the plastic, has been from the plane wreck.”

  The reminder of the crash and finding Agatha’s pale, swollen body sent a shiver vibrating through her.

  “So what do you think you might find, if not people?”

  “For all we know, there might be a shipping lane on the other side of the island, and we’re just out of sight. There might be fruit trees other than damned coconut—believe me, that’s going to get old very quickly.”

  She knew he wasn’t talking about the fruit rotting. She was already getting a little sick of the white flesh.

  Tyler continued, “The point is, I don’t know what I’ll find, perhaps nothing, but I need to check.”

  She nodded. “And when you keep saying ‘I,’ I assume you mean ‘we.’”

  He stopped and stared at her. “You’re not coming with me, Charlie.”

  “Err, yes I am,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “There’s no way I’m hanging out at the beach while you wander off into the jungle. What if another body washes up on shore and I have to deal with it by myself? Or if you get hurt, and I don’t know where you are?”

  “You’ll only slow me down. You don’t even have decent walking shoes.”

  “So, we’ll walk slower. What’s the big rush for anyway? It’s not like we have to be anywhere.”

  “You’re not coming, Charlie!” His voice grew heated, two twin flares of color mounted high in his cheekbones.

  “And you’re not the boss of me. I’ll come if I want to.”

  “I know you’re used to getting your own way, but I’m putting my foot down on this one.”

  Her mouth fell open. “I’m used to getting my own way?” she said, incredulous. “You’re the one who’s been telling me what to do every second since I met you.”

  “That’s for your own safety.”

  “Yeah? What about jumping from the plane? You choosing to jump has resulted in nobody knowing where the hell we are!”


  His eyes widened, his eyebrows lifting. “Lost is better than dead, Charlie.”

  “We might not have died. Just because Agatha died doesn’t mean the others did, too. They might be safe, for all we know.”

  “That’s bullshit, and you know it. Stop acting like such a spoiled little rich girl!”

  She glared at him. “What did you just call me?”

  “You heard me.” He narrowed his chocolate brown eyes, his head tilted to one side. “You don’t always have to get your own way, just because you’re a poor little princess.”

  “Well, you’re a control freak!”

  He stood from the water and took three strides forward, slamming his palm against the trunk of the tree right beside her head. She gulped. His bicep was almost as big as her head. They were alone here on this island, they might never even get rescued. He could do whatever he wanted to her and there was a good chance no one would ever find out.

  Whatever he wanted ...

  She shook the thought from her head.

  Charlie gritted her jaw. “You can call me whatever you want, Tyler. Don’t you think I haven’t heard your insults a thousand times before? I didn’t ask to be born into my family!”

  He focused on her with those dark eyes, dropped his arm from beside her head, but didn’t move back, still invading her body space.

  “I guess none of us asks to be born into the families we have.”

  For a moment, he appeared distant, and she wondered what his story was. Instead, desperately wanting him to understand, she continued with hers. “When I was younger, I’d have given up everything to have a normal family. A little kid doesn’t want a big house or car—none of that meant anything to me. All I wanted was my mom back and maybe even a brother or sister to play with. Instead, I got nannies and a father who loved me, but was never there.”

  He faltered. “Your mom died?”

  She nodded. “I barely remember her now.” With the words came a deep, crushing sadness. Her eyes began to fill with tears but she furiously blinked them away, not wanting to come across as a crybaby and for him to call her out on it. She wasn’t trying to get the sympathy vote, she just wanted him to understand her.

  His tough façade seemed to waver, something in his expression softening, but then he stepped away and turned his face. “Yeah, well, we’ve all lost someone.”

  She frowned. “Why? Who did you lose? Men in the service? That’s hardly the same as losing your mom when you’re seven years old.”

  He stepped away from her. “I wasn’t talking about men in the service.”

  She frowned. “Then who are you talking about?”

  A muscle in his jaw twitched, and she’d have sworn his eyes turned a shade darker. “This isn’t helping anyone.” He stormed back to the pool and picked up the full water bottles. Then, leaving her standing beneath the tree, watching the muscles in his back bend and flex, he strode away, back toward the beach.

  Damn him! What the hell had that all been about?

  Not wanting to be left behind, Charlie snatched up her water bottle and hurried after his retreating back.

  Chapter Eleven

  Back at the beach, the tension remained between them. They barely spoke, Tyler busying himself with tearing up the parachute material to create a shelter, while Charlie half-heartedly threw sticks and driftwood onto the fire to keep it going. She sneaked glances at his serious profile, trying to read his expression and figure out what had made him shut off from her. She felt as though he knew everything there was to know about her—either from things he’d read in papers or magazine, or perhaps had even been briefed on before he took this job. Even since being on the island, he’d learned things about her life which she’d told him herself, yet she knew nothing about him whatsoever.

  He’s still treating this as a job, she reminded herself. Whatever thoughts she might be having about him, however much she was attracted to him—and she was attracted to him—he still saw her as his work.

  And everyone knew work and play didn’t mix.

  Tyler stretched a large piece of the parachute silk from one palm tree to another, using the parachute cord to tie the material to the trunk. With one final stretch, he pulled it to a third tree, creating a triangular canopy above their heads. Though the material was thin, it created a blissful cast of shade. Charlie stepped away from the heat of the fire and into the shadows. She sighed in relief. It was amazing how much better she felt to be in total shade. Even with the palms above them, the leaves still moved in the breeze, allowing the sunlight to penetrate through.

  “This is great,” she said, smiling at him, wanting to ease the atmosphere between them.

  He glanced at her and offered a tight-lipped smile in return. He clearly still hadn’t forgiven her, though she wasn’t totally sure what she’d done wrong except refuse to be left alone. And she didn’t think that was really such an extreme thing to ask for. She realized that however much she managed to sort things between them this afternoon, when morning came again and Tyler tried to leave to do the hike on his own, only to find she had no intention of allowing him to do so, the fight would start all over again.

  “If you want to avoid your friend rat,” Tyler said, “we need to get off the ground at night. How do you feel about sleeping in a hammock?”

  Her heart lifted that he was speaking to her. “Um, I’ve been in one a couple of times, though I’m not the most balanced of people.”

  “Well, either I can try to use the rest of the material to string up a couple of hammocks, or we can find some more wood to create a bed with palm fronds and use the material as a sheet to keep the bugs off. The hammock would be better, rat-wise, but not so good if you like to roll over at night.”

  She realized if they slept in hammocks, they’d need two separate ones. She didn’t like the idea of sleeping alone, of not having the comfort of his solid body beside her at night. She’d rather have Tyler and put up with the rats.

  “Can we go for the bed?”

  He gave her his first relaxed smile. “Sure. Why don’t you leave me to it and go and see if you can find some more of those shellfish. I feel like I haven’t eaten for a week.”

  Pleased to have something to do, she grabbed an off-cut of the parachute silk to collect the mussels in. Tyler needed the pocket knife, otherwise she’d have taken that, too, to pry the mussels off the rocks.

  Splashing around the rock pools, she tried not to think about the possibility of another couple of dead bodies floating in the water with her somewhere. They may have washed up miles away, or on another island altogether, but she’d known for a fact this water had once held Agatha’s body. The thought conjured the memory of Agatha’s face and she couldn’t stop her mind from wondering what her agent looked like now after hours in the tropical heat.

  No, no, don’t think about it, she chided herself, her stomach clenching. She was in serious danger of losing her appetite for seafood, and as there wasn’t much else around, she didn’t have that luxury. We’re all just meat at the end of the day. Nothing to get sentimental about.

  She got to work, knocking mussels off the rocks, and collecting any of the smaller shellfish as well. She longed for another crab to dart across the bottom of one of the pools, wanting to make Tyler proud of her again, but none appeared. Instead, she resorted to gathering together some of the cleaner looking seaweed, remembering what he’d told her the previous day about it being edible. Her stomach was a hollow hole inside her, and she no longer dismissed the idea of eating the green, slimy plant.

  Gathering up her pickings in the piece of parachute material, she walked back toward camp. Tyler had been busy creating a bed for them, using numerous plastic bottles and other debris to create a mattress off the floor, bound together with cord, and covered with palm fronds and the remaining parachute silk. She suspected it would be pretty noisy when they moved, and not exactly a king-sized bed at the Ritz, but it was a lot better than sleeping on the ground.

  She smiled as she app
roached. “You’ve been busy,” she called to him.

  Tyler straightened from his work and ran a hand over the top of his head. He’d removed his shirt while he labored, and his tan skin glistened with perspiration, highlighting every ridge and muscle of his torso. She tried not to stare, her gaze flicking down to the V lines disappearing from below his hip bones and into his shorts.

  Face, Charlie, she scolded herself mentally. Focus on the face.

  “Looks like you did okay yourself,” he said, reaching for her catch. “Hand them over and I’ll get them cleaned and on the fire.”

  “It’s okay,” she said, holding the shellfish closer to her body. “You’ve done so much already. I’ll do it.”

  She filled one of the empty coconut shells with a little of the fresh water and rinsed off the mussels, scraping away the byssus—the stringy material the mollusks used to attach themselves to the rock. Some of the shellfish were still open, but snapped shut at her contact. She clenched her teeth, clamping a squeal between them.

  Tyler lurked behind her, peering over her shoulder. She couldn’t help but feel like he was making sure she was doing it right.

  The fire had begun to burn down again, so she left dinner for a moment to restock the fire. She picked up a couple of larger logs and threw them on. Sparks spurted up.

  “Hey, careful,” Tyler snapped. “You do that again and you’re likely to set fire to our canopy.”

  The increasingly familiar feeling of irritation rose inside her. “You could have done it yourself instead of making sure I was cleaning the shellfish right. I don’t know what you think we’re going to cook them on if you let the fire go out.”

  “Jesus, what the hell is your problem?”

  “Me?” she said in amazement. “You’re the one who’s as prickly as a cactus. Nothing I say or do is ever quite good enough.”

  “I’m just looking out for you. Trying to make sure you don’t poison yourself!”

  She threw down the shells she’d been working on and jumped to her feet, spinning to face him. “Oh, sure. You’re being real caring.”