Getting Wild

by Sarah Barrie

He scowled at her. “You got her drunk.”

  “Just drunk enough to spill some of what’s been going on. What are you doing Ryan?”

  “Mind your own business, Hannah.”

  “She is my business and like it or not, so are you. So I’m going to ask you again. What are you doing?”

  “Right now I’m going to sit back down over there, keep an eye on her and try not to get myself arrested. He tries to leave with her…that could change.”

  “You mean that? You’re not generally this possessive.”

  “I’m not generally this serious.” As he walked back to his table Hannah smiled into her cocktail. Was it possible the great Ryan Edwards was finally hooked?

  Ella danced for three songs, until Sam’s phone rang and he apologetically took off somewhere quiet to talk to whoever it was. Within seconds she had another offer and another three dances later, held her hands up in refusal of yet another. She struggled back to the bar, to Hannah, because Lexi was dancing with Marco and Jill was with someone she’d never seen before. Behind her was her latest dance partner. “Where’s yours?” Ella asked Hannah.

  “I’m a happily married woman, thank you.”

  “Happily married?”

  “There aren’t many good ones out there, but I got lucky.”

  “There you are,” Sam said. “Sorry about that. Want another drink?”

  “Hi Sam – no thanks. I’m pretty sure the other guy was getting me something…”

  “Other guy?”

  “Here you go,” the ‘other guy’ in question appeared and handed her some sort of cocktail.

  “Thank you.” Ella eyed it dubiously as the two men stood like stags preparing for battle.

  “Up for another dance Ella?” Sam asked.

  Other Guy stepped up, levelled him a ‘back off’ look. “You’ve had your dance, buddy.”

  “I was here first ‘buddy.’”

  Ella turned to Hannah with an ‘Uh-Oh’ expression, but Hannah was smirking into her drink. She looked up, winked at Ella and counted down. “Three, two, one…”

  Ryan appeared right on cue, just as the men began shoving each other.

  “Hannah.” Ryan gave her a clearly unimpressed glare and casually pushed an arm out to either side, sending both men back a step. “You’ve had your fun, darling,” he taunted Ella, “time to go.” He swept her up into his arms and Ella held on, more bemused than alarmed. Then they were heading out of the bar and towards the motel rooms.

  “Key,” he demanded, reaching her room.

  “What? Oh…” Ella reached into her bra, pulled it out. Saying nothing he unlocked the door, shoved it open and put her on her feet. “How drunk are you?”

  “Not drunk enough for you to be in here.”

  “You’d prefer one of those morons?”

  “As opposed to the one standing in front of me?”

  “Nice, Ella.” He turned to leave. “Sleep it off.”

  She closed her eyes, swallowed hard. “I’m not so drunk that I don’t know what I’m saying Ryan, so listen up. I’m out.”

  He turned slowly, a look of utter disbelief on his face. “No.”

  “What?”

  He moved back to her, took her by the arms. “I told you that even if you wanted out of this contract I wouldn’t let you go. Clause or no clause, you’re staying.” His grip gentled and his hands slid down her arms to catch her fingers. In a much quieter voice he asked, “Ella, what was so terrible about last night that you would even consider leaving?”

  “Terrible? Were you there? Nothing…but it was…” she stammered, she didn’t want to go there, couldn’t bring that up.

  “It was a mistake?” The way he was looking at her was turning her fuzzy mind to mush.

  “Yes. No. Yes. Because it’s supposed to be casual.”

  “And I agreed to that.”

  “But I can’t do it! With you I can’t. Don’t look at me like that.”

  “Like what?” he asked gently, a slow smile spreading over his face.

  “Ok,” Ella put her hand to her forehead and closed her eyes, took a moment while the room steadied. “We need to discuss this rationally. You’re right, I should. Tomorrow.”

  “No. You’re finally talking – albeit in cute little broken sentences – but I get it.” He tugged on her hand and they sat on the edge of her bed. “So keep going.”

  “I can’t. You don’t get it.”

  “I do. I get you, Ella. I know exactly how you work. I know you only ever have trouble formulating sentences when you’re upset. Maybe I’ll add drunk to that. I know you start running off at the mouth when you’re nervous. I know you do that hand to your head thing when you’re having trouble keeping it together. I know you have some sort of genuine fear of getting too close to anyone.” He ran his fingers through her hair. “I know why you left your hair out tonight.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know what to do about you.”

  “Let me take care of that one for you.” He touched a finger to her chin, lifted it to meet his slow, gentle kiss. Ella trembled, a response to the tension in her body and his gentle caress.

  “No.” she objected, pulling back. “I’m mad, remember? You’re supposed to be mad,” she argued.

  “Not mad,” he reassured her, massaging the stiffness from her neck. “Genuinely frustrated with you, yes, but not mad. Stop analysing everything.”

  Ella’s eyes closed under the caress. “Ok.”

  He smiled. “I love your use of that word.” He kissed her again. “Get some sleep.”

  “Don’t go,” she whispered. “I want you to stay. Please stay.”

  He looked torn. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, about this, absolutely. I just…I don’t know how much of the rest of me I can give you. I can’t promise…”

  He touched a finger to her lips. “I don’t want any promises right now, but if you want me to stay, I want you to trust me and let me take control. Let me love you.”

  “I don’t let anyone do that,” she whispered.

  “You don’t trust anyone to, but you will. Now stop thinking.”

  He took his time undressing her, savouring her, touching, exploring, tasting. He took his time, seducing her with his words, his hands, his lips. And she submitted willingly to his touch, to the need that pulsed inside her, to the release he brought her. And when finally she slept, it was curled into him, a contented smile touching her face.

  Chapter Twelve

  Ella woke to find her cheek pressed into a solid wall of chest. Immediately and with no small amount of anxiety, her mind raced back to the previous night. The girls…the bar…those guys…Ryan. She sighed. Thank God it was Ryan. Still…what had she said? What had she admitted? Damn it – why did she get drunk? She never got drunk. Cautiously, she turned her face up to his, saw him watching her through semi-closed eyes and she blushed as the events of the night before flooded back into her mind.

  “Hi,” he murmured, smiling at the touch of colour in her face.

  “Hi.”

  “Ok?”

  She nodded, her cheek moving against his chest.

  “Good, because for a moment there you looked unsure.”

  “I just needed to know it was you,” she replied without thinking, and saw the flare of appreciation in his eyes. “Not that I…I mean…” She sat up, bringing the sheet with her, “I don’t have drunken one-night stands but for a minute the images all flooded in and I wasn’t sure.”

  “I’ve had a few,” Ryan murmured with a shrug, “And they were nothing like that.”

  “Oh. Well, you did everything…”

  “And you let me.” He brushed his fingers across her face. Ella dropped her gaze, shifted uncomfortably. “There you go again.” He sat up and caught her chin, lifted it to look into her eyes. “When are you going to trust me?”

  “Ryan…last night – of course I trust you!”

  “With your body, yeah and that’s progress, but I want all of it, Ella. I wa
nt the bit that puts that freaked-out look on your face whenever you think I might be getting too close. Because even now, there it is.”

  Ella frowned. What did he mean, ‘all of it,’ and why would he want it? “Ryan, I can’t.”

  “That’s bullshit.”

  Frustrated, she shoved at him, untangled herself from the sheet and quickly dove on her robe, pulling it around her. “God, you just keep pushing and pushing! Why is it never enough for you? Why can’t you just be satisfied with what I can give you?”

  Ryan climbed out of bed after her, calmly pulled on his clothes then crossed to her and kissed her thoroughly. “Because I’m in love with you. Freak out over that for a while. I’ll see you at the breakfast meeting.” He wandered out, leaving her staring open-mouthed at the door.

  “Breakfast meeting…” She frowned, her brain was refusing to function and she knew damn well it was because of Ryan’s ridiculous outburst. Because it was ridiculous. He couldn’t. He didn’t. What kind of game was he playing? She glanced at the clock and realised she had just over half an hour.

  Ella was on time for the meeting and everyone else was already there. She eyed Ryan warily as she approached; he just grinned. She’d continued to ‘freak out’ over his admission for the last thirty minutes. In the end she’d decided to hell with it – she had every intention of ignoring the statement, hoping it would go away and never be aired again. She had no idea how to be ‘in love’ with someone. It was too hard, too complicated and the one time she’d tried, well, she’d failed miserably. No, it was simply a mistaken case of very strong lust. And wow, it really was. Strong.

  “Morning,” she mumbled, taking her seat.

  “Morning,” Hannah replied with the others, a twinkle in her eyes. “Sleep well?”

  “Hmmm.”

  “Everything ok?”

  “No hangover,” she replied, because really, she wasn’t sure everything was ok and she had no intention of discussing why with the team at large, and Ryan, over breakfast.

  “Good. Big last day ahead. Let’s take a look at it.”

  By mid-morning Ella was walking along the beach, reciting her lines to Marco on camera. She turned to Ryan, expecting she knew exactly what was going to come out of his mouth, as they’d run through it not ten minutes earlier.

  She didn’t.

  Instead of replying with the expected retort, he threw a casual arm over her shoulder, smiling wickedly. “Ella, I know you think you’re going to spend the morning checking out Darwin and the afternoon strolling through the markets and taking in the sunset…but I have something else in mind I think you’re going to love…”

  Ella’s eyes widened and she stopped walking. She looked deliberately from the camera, to Hannah, to Ryan. “You’re telling me this now?”

  “I figure if it’s on camera, you can’t back out…you’re going to need a wetsuit.”

  Ella’s wide eyes narrowed in suspicion and her hands went to her hips. “If you think you can manipulate me into doing some sort of crazy, kamikaze, Ryan Edwards-style stunt, just because we’re filming…”

  “I know I can.” He ruffled her hair and the look on her face was priceless. “Don’t worry, you’re in for a treat.”

  “Don’t worry?” Ella noted the amusement on the faces of the crew and became very, very nervous. “Of course I’m going to worry – you’re a lunatic. Half of what you do is crazy, the other half is suicidal. Ryan Edwards, don’t you dare walk away!” she ordered as he walked off camera, laughing.

  “That’s it Marco, we got it!” Hannah called. “Great work guys.”

  Ella turned on Hannah. “You planned this.”

  “I would never! Blame Ryan.”

  “Oh no, you’re the producer. What were you thinking?”

  “Ratings, of course,” she said with a laugh. “Ah, remember that head start you promised me?”

  “I don’t believe I actually made any promises,” she replied. “Just what the hell have you gotten me into?” she asked.

  It wasn’t that bad – which only made her suspicious. She was out on the water on a beautiful day, watching Ryan handle a jet ski like he’d been born on one. And he certainly knew how to show off. Still, as long as he didn’t expect her to perform any of those gravity-defying stunts of his, she could handle this.

  “You going to sit on that thing all day and float around? Come on!” Ryan headed towards her at an alarming speed and just as she was about ready to leap for her life, spun the jet-ski hard and drowned her in an arc of salt water.

  Every happy thought vanished from her mind. “You are a lunatic!” she screamed. “You’re a dead lunatic!” On shore, she could hear her team laughing hysterically and thought right. Hair dripping and plastered around her head, she wiped the loose tendrils out of her eyes and looked down at the controls. Not that hard, but what should she do? She turned on the engine and biting down on her bottom lip, started moving.

  “Not bad,” Ryan called out, “for an arthritic snail. What are you doing?”

  “Wondering how far out to sea the current will take your body after I murder you!”

  His smile a mile wide, water glistening off his thick, sun-bleached hair and golden skin; he was an impressive human being, and she couldn’t help but stare a little.

  An idea that wouldn’t be ignored popped into her head and she turned the engine off again, then pretended to play with it.

  “I think something’s wrong with it!” she called out helplessly. As expected, he crawled in alongside her. “Ok?” he asked, coming in closer.

  “Am now.” She hooked her leg over the seat and pushed off, landing both hands against his chest and sending both of them toppling into the water.

  When they emerged he made a grab for her and she quickly pulled herself back onto her jet ski. This time when she turned it on she let it fly.

  Despite biting back abject terror at the sudden speed, she laughed in triumph and determinedly held on for grim death as Ryan chased her. The beach was coming up frighteningly fast and she slowed, praying under her breath the thing would stop in time. She just about went over the front of the ski when it did stop, but she leapt with relief onto the safety of the shore, still in one piece.

  Ryan raced up behind her and snagged her around the waist. “Who’s the lunatic?” Before she could answer she was trapped in a blow-your-head-off kiss that made her toes curl. In front of everyone. Her cheeks burned as people on the beach began to cheer and her team watched on with varying amounts of curiosity and amusement.

  When he finally let her go she sighed audibly, attempted and didn’t quite pull off an unimpressed glare. “You always have to have the last word, don’t you?”

  “You two,” Hannah said grinning, “are great television. Don’t kill each other and we just might have a top-rating series on our hands.”

  “The killing part remains to be seen,” Ella commented. “So can I go to the markets now?”

  “After,” Ryan replied.

  Ella’s mouth opened in disbelief. “After what?”

  “Fishing.”

  “Fishing? You don’t want to take me fishing! Isn’t fishing some sort of sacred male-bonding experience?”

  “Not today. You’ll love it.”

  “I like your confidence, but your imagination is downright depraved. Marco, if you don’t turn that camera off I’m going to take it from you and give the audience a very impressive and, I guarantee, highly uncomfortable shot of where the sun doesn’t shine. Do we understand each other?”

  The camera in question began to shake as Marco chuckled.

  “I’m airing that!” Hannah, the traitor, called out,

  “Of course you are,” Ella exclaimed in resignation.

  The charter boat rolled with the waves as men threw out lines in all directions and discussed bag limits and fish sizes and a whole lot of other things Ella wasn’t the least bit interested in. At the same time they were throwing handfuls of fish guts into the water around the boat and th
e combination of the sights, smells and movement had her stomach rolling sickeningly.

  Watching Ryan do his thing in front of the camera took her mind of her queasiness for a few minutes and almost immediately a fish snagged one of the lines, causing genuine excitement amongst the men.

  Unhappily she dug another sea sickness pill from her pocket and swallowed it. The rate she was going through them Ella thought she’d probably pass out but then, at least, she wouldn’t feel sick anymore.

  Ryan dragged in a fish the size of a small whale to a round of congratulations and quite a bit of backslapping. Then the line went back in and the process repeated itself another couple of times.

  “Come on Ella, let’s get you set up,” Ryan suggested. “All you’ve done is sit there.”

  “I really don’t want to,” she replied weakly.

  “Just a couple of shots,” Steve pushed, “for the show.”

  Ryan frowned as he dragged her to her feet. “You’re a bit pale…you feeling alright?”

  “Compared to what?” she complained, but smiled self-piteously.

  “We’ll do a few minutes, get what Steve needs, then head in, ok?”

  “Yes, please.”

  So she was shown how to hold the rod, how to cast a line. She stood for a couple of minutes, listened to what she was being told while her stomach complained and Ryan sat with a cold beer, sending her useless words of encouragement. When she didn’t catch anything, he finally called it. “Alright, let’s wrap it up.”

  “Thank God,” Ella murmured. She’d just started to wind in when she felt the tug. Suddenly the line was spinning wildly. Ella held on tight and looked blankly at it for a few seconds, then to Ryan for some sort of assistance.

  “You’ve got one!”

  “I figured that,” she replied nervously, wrestling with the rod. “Now what the hell do I do with it? Damn stupid fish; why’d it have to pick on me?” Ryan grinned. Ella wasn’t impressed. All everyone did was laugh at her lately and right now she needed some serious assistance. “Ryan…get off your butt you big idiot and help me!”

  “Ok, ok…just let it run a bit…” he stood behind her and reached around, placed his hands over hers. Now take a bit up…that’s it…” He guided her through it, step-by-step and when they finally netted the enormous mackerel, Ella couldn’t help but feel a little bit of pride.