by Ava Harrison
“Blow,” he says again. “Ignite the flames.”
He’s no longer talking about a stick.
30
Alaric
The next few days follow the same pattern. I teach her the skills she will need to survive if she ever finds herself alone without me on a deserted island. Today is a bit different.
Today, I lead her toward the lake to the clearing right by the banks of where the water is.
“What are we doing here? Are you going to teach me how to—what swim? I already know how to do that?” She laughs.
“No. Today, I teach you how to protect yourself. How to never find yourself in a bad position again.” The meaning of my words isn’t lost on her. She knows I’m talking about how she’s stuck here with me. “If you really want to work with your father, which I don’t suggest you do, you need to know how to defend yourself and fight back.”
She lifts her brow at me. “I don’t need to learn to fire a gun. It’s not rocket science.” Her hands rest on her hip in defiance, but I don’t miss the way her fists clench to hide their shaking.
“You need to. But at the very least, you need to learn how to fight. If you remember the day you found yourself alone on my boat, guns aren’t always available when we want them.”
A swift shadow of anger slips over her soft features, making her jaw appear tight. She’s not happy with that memory. “I’ll figure it out,” she snaps, her voice inflamed with rage.
“Little dove, there’s no need to be mad.” And this time I mean it. Normally my words drip with sarcasm, but since we have too much time and very little to do, I do want to teach her this. “Let me teach you how to fight.”
She stands there for a minute, her expression blank, before she places her hands on her hips, and gives me her signature, yet sexy look of defiance. “Aren’t you scared it will give me the upper hand,” she draws out, her voice very low, trying to be mischievous.
“Hardly.”
That makes her full pink lips turn up into a grin. “Maybe one day I’ll get the better of you. What then?”
I step closer to her. I’m close enough that she now needs to crane her neck to see my eyes. “Then I’ll count myself lucky to die by the hands of someone so lovely.”
The compliment must take her off guard because she swallows. I use the movement and surprise to my advantage, grabbing her by her shoulders. “Defend yourself.” I pull her into me, capturing her hands next. “Fight me off.”
She tries to squirm, but her movements do the opposite. It’s like she stuck in quicksand; the more she moves, the tighter my grip gets.
“With my arms wrapped around you, there is little you can do.”
“What’s the point, then?” She huffs, still trying to break away.
“Use what you still have at your disposal.”
Her movements stop, and I know she’s trying to think of a way to defend herself. “Your foot. Stomp down. The movement will make my grip temporarily loosen. Use it to your advantage.”
She stomps down.
“Good, but you’re still holding back. Let’s try some more.”
I spend the next few hours running through basic self-defense moves. Moves that one day, with enough practice, could save her life.
I’m not sure what it is about her, but I have a deep-seated desire to protect her. The thought of that, though, makes me laugh. She’s not the kind of girl who would ever let me do that for her. Seeing as I know that won’t happen, I plan on giving her the tools to protect herself.
We fight for a while. She’s a quick study. Again, in my arms, I hold her tightly, my fingers touching her exposed skin. She shivers beneath my touch, and I move in, placing my head closer to the crook of her neck. I breathe out, knowing my breath tickles her skin … then she strikes.
And believe it or not, takes me completely off guard. I stumble back as her elbow connects with my ribs. Then she swivels around, and her fist connects with my jaw.
It’s my own fault as I step back and wipe the blood from my lip.
“You’re bleeding,” she exclaims, walking toward me. “Are you hurt?”
“I thought you wanted me to die.” I smirk.
“I never said I wanted you to die, just be maimed.”
“Big difference.” I swipe at my lip again, and there is still a trail of blood dripping off it.
“Let’s grab the first-aid kit. I’ll clean that for you.”
“I’m fine.”
Not really. I let this little wisp of a girl get one over on me. Phoenix Michaels is more dangerous to my health than she knows.
Neither of us speaks on the way back, but when we get back, I let her start the fire and then point back to the sky and tell her more about the stars above.
The next day comes before I know it.
She pops up from where she is and smiles.
“What’s on the agenda today?” she asks from beside me. I’m barely up, but it makes me laugh. Ever since yesterday, she’s been in a good mood. Almost like the idea of learning how to survive has given her a purpose here on the island.
I can understand that. At one time in my life, it gave me a purpose too.
“Today, I’ll teach you how to shoot a gun.”
Her eyes go wide, and her face pales. Then I notice her hand is shaking. Uncontrollably.
“No.” Her one-word answer leaves no room for debate.
“How about I teach you how to fish?”
She moves to a sitting position. “Really?” I can hear the gratitude in her voice that I don’t press her.
“Yes, it’s different here than it would be back home, but I can still teach you.”
“How so?” she asks, and I smile.
“Other than the obvious …”
“Which is?”
“Well, we don’t have a fishing rod.”
She inclines her head. “You mean there is no portable fishing rod in your handy-dandy travel survival kit?”
“Nope,” I respond with a smile.
“What good is this thing”—she motions to the bag—“without a fishing rod?”
I jump up from where I’m lying in the raft and pretend to go to the bag. “You’re right. What was I thinking? I should just throw it out.”
Her eyes go wide, and I chuckle. I realize I have laughed more with her stranded on this island than I have in years.
Even before I took over the business, I don’t ever remember laughing.
“What?” she asks, and her voice pulls me back to the here and now.
I shake my head. “I was just thinking.”
“About?” Sincerity drips from the question. She truly wants to know.
In my actual life, I don’t talk about my feelings, and I don’t answer to anyone. But it’s different here on this island. A part of me wants to tell her, but I don’t, but I’m still surprised about my desire to open up to her.
Maybe it’s because she is my only companion, but—and I won’t admit this to her, although I’m sure she knows—there is a very good chance we will die here.
I’m okay with that.
I made my peace with dying a long time ago.
But even if I’m resigned to my fate, that doesn’t mean I want my time left to be spent fighting.
Even if she is my enemy’s daughter, that has no bearing here and now.
For whatever time we have left, we’ll work together. That’s really our best shot at survival. Then if we escape, we can cross the next bridge. I’m sure she knows my vendetta won’t end because we went fishing together, but there is no point in thinking about that now.
“Let’s go. We’ll go fishing in the shallow part of the ocean. I usually go over there.” I point toward the opposite section of the beach. “It’s about a twenty-minute walk.”
“Do I need anything?”
“Grab the tape. Also, I have a spear and also a large stick beside that tree.”
“Um, okay.”
“I’m going to use the spear. I’ll stand o
n the rock over there and try to fish that way.”
“You can do that?”
“Yeah, remember? Years spent training for this,” I respond.
“And the long stick and tape?” she asks, brow raised in question. There was actually supposed to be a net and a hook in the raft, but it must have fallen out—but I don’t tell her that because it’s not important. I can make something for her to fish with.
“That’s for you. It takes years of practice and skill to use a spear to catch a fish, but if we tape the large leaf of the palm tree, you can use that to catch smaller fish.”
“Seriously? You have to be joking.”
I give her a stare that tells her I’m anything but joking. “You said you wanted to learn.” My lip tips up. “If you are a good girl, I’ll even let you touch my spear.”
She rolls her eyes at my blatant attempt at a sexual joke, but I don’t miss the way her pupils widen just before she does it.
Interesting.
It seems my little dove isn’t against the idea at all.
This I can work with.
That certainly would be a better way of spending our time, at least our nights. Maybe then I won’t have to talk about myself anymore.
When it’s obvious I’m not going to say more, she walks over to the tree and grabs the gear I told her to.
“All your stuff. Spear included,” she mocks.
“It’s a big one, right?”
“Lord.” She laughs. A loud and contagious laugh. One that makes me laugh too.
Better be careful, Alaric. If you keep laughing like this, you might grow to like her, and that is not a good plan.
Pushing down the thought circling my head, I grab my knife and place it in the back pocket of my pants that I’ve since cut into shorts.
She walks up to me and reaches out her hand, holding the sticks.
I take my spear, and we both walk.
We’re quiet on the trek. When we finally get to the shallow lagoon, I point at a spot a few feet away from where we stand.
“You’re going to fish over there. And I’m going to be a little deeper on that rock.”
“Am I going to get wet?”
“Where you’re standing? No. But I would recommend if you don’t want to get your pants wet that you take them off,” I say as I remove my shirt and then set it down on the sand,
“You’re just saying that ’cause you want to see me naked.”
I lift my brow. “Maybe. Maybe not. But you won’t even be naked.”
“Practically,” she counters.
“You’ll still have a tank. It will be like you are wearing a bathing suit. And why so modest? I’ve already seen you naked.”
“Fine.” Then she pulls down her pants.
The truth is, she shows no more skin than someone on a family trip to the beach would. But there is still something very enticing about the picture she’s portraying.
Her skin is sun-kissed. Her dark brown hair flows in the sea breeze. She looks like a sea goddess, a siren luring me toward her. I don’t go, though. Instead, I squat down on the sand and tape the leaf to make a net.
Once I’m done, I hand it off to her.
“You go over there. Scream if you catch something.”
It’s not long until I hear grumbling from where Phoenix stands. She looks flustered. She’s screaming at the water. When I hear curses, I can’t help but laugh.
“Problem?” I holler across the distance. The look she gives me is so stern I feel like a little child just reprimanded by a parent.
“You can say that.”
“Want help?” I ask, but she doesn’t answer, so I take it upon myself to go help her.
My foot steps off the rock, and once it’s submerged into the warm ocean, I stride toward her. The water is shallow where we are, so only my legs get wet.
When I’m almost upon her, she looks up, an angry grimace still present on her face.
Angry Phoenix is almost as beautiful as a sleeping one. I prefer her peaceful, but this is my second favorite look. Heated eyes.
I wonder what she looks like in the throes of passion.
What her eyes look like as she comes.
I have to use all my strength to stifle a groan as I push back the desire forming inside me. Keep your head in the game, man.
“Let me help you,” I say again. This time, I step up behind her.
“You have a spear in your hand. How are you going to help me?” She scoffs.
Wanting to show her I can, I throw the spear like I’m in the Olympics. It flies through the air, landing on the beach.
“Show-off,” she mutters, and I have to try everything in my power not to laugh.
“You’re right, I am,” I say in my most asshole voice yet. “But I sure can throw a stick.”
“You are incorrigible,” she says over her shoulder.
“That might be the case, but I’m also a damn good fisherman. All jokes aside, let me help you.”
“Fine, but I’m telling you, there are no fish here. They must’ve swum away. You won’t have any luck.”
“Let me be the judge of that.”
“Fine.”
With no more resistance from her, I step closer. My arms reach around her, my hands wrapping around her forearms.
Her body shivers at the contact.
That makes me smile. It’s not cold enough for her to shiver unless she is affected by my touch. Seeing as I can feel the goosebumps that form on her arm, I know she is.
Here we are, dancing around an obvious attraction, but knowing how all this started, I’ll need a verbal confirmation before I ever breach the divide between us.
With my arms around her, I position her in the correct position, and then we drop the net I made into the water.
“Now what?” she asks.
I move her body closer to mine. “Now we wait.”
She squirms at the contact. “For how long?”
“However long it takes for you to feel the net get heavier.”
“Wait, seriously?”
“I rarely joke,” I say, even though that’s not true anymore. With her, it seems I’m always joking, always laughing. Hell, I’m basically a different man on this island. My father would have never appreciated this new me.
My brother would have laughed at me.
But since neither of them is here, I’m fine.
With our bodies still touching, we wait.
Her inhales make me inhale.
When she exhales, I exhale.
It’s very peaceful.
I don’t think she realizes when she was doing this on her own, she was moving around too much. You can’t move when trying to catch fish.
“Why are we just standing like this?” Her voice cuts through the silence.
“Because this is how we catch fish.”
“How do you figure?”
“You moved around too much before. You were basically dancing for the fish. They swam away because of it. They saw the threat and left.”
“You’re full of shit.”
“Am I?” I step in even closer, and now my bare chest hits her back. She inhales, and I feel the vibration from where our bodies touch. “Then let’s do an experiment.”
Time passes slowly as she weighs my words with each pull of oxygen she takes, in each deep breath she expels at my proximity.
“How?” she finally croaks, probably because she thinks if she humors me in this, I’ll let her go.
But I don’t want to. Even if I wouldn’t do this, I like how small she feels in my arms, and I’m not ready for her to leave yet. So instead of just teaching her, I will milk this for all it’s worth.
I pull her close, leaning forward so that her head is in the crook of my neck. Her body trembles as my lips softly whisper in her ear to calm down.
“Inhale. Slowly and be still.”
She does. Her shoulders rise and fall softly so as not to scare off the fish.
“How much longer?”
&
nbsp; “I’ll say this one time, dove. And I know you want to get angry with me, but trust me. Calm your heart. In life, this is an important message to learn. Every action has a consequence. If you are rash, it can have dire consequences.”
The implication hangs in the air. I’m not talking about catching fish. No, rather, when she sneaked onto my boat. Now she is here on an island with me, stranded and having to fish for food.
She lets out a long, drawn-out exhale, finally accepting my advice.
We stand together for a long time with peace and tranquility all around us. It’s odd what a difference a week can make.
Now, as I’m standing here, it brings me back to a time before, when I learned to fish this way. When I learned to survive by myself.
Now, I’ll teach her everything I’ve learned. That way, if we do ever escape this, she can live through any challenge life throws at her.
31
Phoenix
Breathing is overrated, right? Because I’m not.
It’s a modern miracle I’m still standing upright. Well, I guess it’s not a modern miracle, seeing as Alaric’s holding most of my body weight.
His touch makes me dizzy. Light-headed. He holds me so close that his heat is all around me. I should insist he stop, but I can’t. What I really need to do is turn over my shoulder and just kiss the man already. Put us both out of our misery.
I’m going to do it.
Right now.
The attraction is too strong not to. We are opposing pieces of a magnet, and the pull to each other is inevitable. This will happen, but if I kiss him now, it’s on my terms.
Before I can second-guess myself, I move to turn my head over my shoulder. I’m in the crook of his neck, but he pulls back, our gazes locking.
I can see his desire.
His eyes read like an open book. They tell me of his wants and needs. We are so close now that his breath fans my lips. My eyes shutter closed, and I’m sure our lips will collide … when suddenly, I feel a heavy weight in my arm, and then I’m tugged back. Or, well, at least my arms are.
My eyes jolt open, and Alaric is no longer staring at me. The moment is lost.