Heart's Paradise

by Olivia Starke

  Phoebe briefly thought of tapping out. Inside her bag was an emergency cellphone, and it’d be so easy to place the call which would take her off the island. Leaving Jonathon alone to survive on his own. She thought of Sarah who she’d left with Barb, Phoebe’s close friend, for the weeks she’d be gone. Her daughter had been much more excited for her mother’s starring role than Phoebe had been. She’d even made her a brightly colored bracelet for good luck. Phoebe ran her fingers over the soft, woven multicolored strands of floss, and smiled.

  This was for her daughter. What the producers had offered Phoebe to be on the show would pay off one of her mortgages and leave her with something to put in savings. A much more secure future to offer her child than scraping by to make ends meet. She’d do anything to keep a roof over their heads, and food on the table. And that anything would include surviving twenty-five days with Jonathon Breck. She gathered her irritation into a useful shield to keep her on course and help her squash the attraction that had never quite died for Jonathon.

  Sweat stung her eyes as she worked the bow drill again. Black smudged the wood from the friction, but the fire wouldn’t ignite. She growled.

  “Need help?”

  The deep rumble of Jonathon’s voice startled Phoebe. She jumped, dropping her instruments.

  No, she wanted to snap, but the sun had started to sink low in the sky, and she wanted to see if she could find some food before it got too dark to safely search.

  “Do you think you can use this?” she asked instead, swallowing her pride.

  He dropped to his knees, setting two coconuts in the sand. “I’m not the greatest, but I’ll give it a shot.”

  He picked up the bow drill and flashed her a big, lopsided grin complete with charming chin dimple.

  “I found water.” He nodded to the coconuts. “Hopefully it won’t make us sick.”

  He seemed boyishly satisfied for the moment. Phoebe took a deep breath. They had weeks left, she had to get her physical and emotional reactions under control to be able to exist with him. Otherwise she’d lose her mind.

  His fingers were long and nimble as they worked the bow drill. Her throat felt scratchy, and she grabbed a coconut, drinking down several gulps of the lukewarm liquid inside. She swiped her hand over her mouth, and watched Jonathon work, ready to correct him if needed before she left to forage. But she discovered he handled the bow quite easily, and much to her chagrin, within a minute she saw a wisp of smoke rise. She quickly leaned down, blowing a soft breath on the coal until the heat caught in the tinder and fire licked up.

  Jonathon sat back on his heels and brushed his hands together. “Now what’s for dinner?” he asked, throwing a wink at her.

  Phoebe stood, hating the beat of butterfly wings in her stomach his flirtation caused.

  “Crabs probably,” she said, striking off toward the waterline. “If we’re lucky enough to find them.”

  Jonathon followed along behind her, though she wanted to search by herself.

  “I love crab myself,” he said. “With drawn butter.”

  “Well, we’ll be hard pressed to find butter here,” she answered, forcing an even tone to her speech.

  He lifted a shoulder. “We always have our imaginations, eh? Mine has been running wild since we met.”

  The gaze he cast her caused those butterflies to spring up again. She looked down, searching for the scurrying little creatures which would make up their dinner. Having Jonathon close at her side stirred her in ways that left her lightheaded.

  She paused, placing her hands on her hips. “Seriously, you can go back to camp and keep an eye on the fire. We can’t risk it going out. I can do this on my own.” Please leave me alone.

  His smile stayed in place, passing to his eyes. They glowed in the afternoon sunlight. “Two will have better luck while foraging I think,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “The fire is going strong, it won’t die on us.”

  He turned away from her and kicked at a piece of driftwood. He reached down, scooping his hand into the sand and catching a tiny crab. She was forced to work with him, and together they collected enough to make a halfway decent meal. Without a pot to cook them in, she found a rock and threw it in the fire until hot, then lay the crabs on it as a makeshift hotplate.

  “So what do you do for fun, Phoebe?” Jonathon asked while they waited on their food.

  “I don’t know, read I guess. I don’t have a lot of free time to spare.” She hugged her knees to her chest, staring at the fire.

  “You’re obviously into this survivalist thing, how long have you done it?”

  The getting-to-know-you session made her uncomfortable, and a part of her wanted to scream at him. How do you not remember me? You took my virginity and got me pregnant all in the same night! She bit her tongue to stem the coming storm of words until she felt some control.

  “A long time,” she finally answered. Shortly after dropping out of college and moving across the country where I could raise my daughter in peace.

  She took a stick and rolled several of the crabs off the stone, letting them cool in the sand before collecting them in her palm. Jonathon followed suit as she bit into one. Though small, and gritty, it didn’t taste half-bad. Perhaps tomorrow she’d search for sea urchins, and weave a lobster trap. With the few needed calories in her belly, Phoebe felt a bit better about Paradise. Even if she had to share it with the last man on the planet she’d expected.

  As the sun set before them, and the sky turned from blue to soft reds and orange, Jonathon tried to draw her into conversation again.

  “Tell me about your life, angel,” he said.

  She frowned at the pet name. He’d used it before—long, long ago.

  “Not much to tell,” she said. “Work, my daughter, more work.”

  “You have a daughter? What’s her name?”

  She fidgeted, not knowing quite what to do with her hands, so she drew circles in the sand with a fingertip. “Sarah. She’s eleven.”

  “I have an adorable niece that age.” Jonathon stretched his long legs before him and rested back on his hands. Phoebe noticed welts left by sand flea bites on the tops of his feet.

  Sarah has a cousin she’ll never know. Sadness flowed into her heart, as did the sense of helplessness she’d carried for so long. There he was, only two feet away, and she still couldn’t break the silence. Sarah was too important to risk on a stranger’s whims. If Jonathon did show interest, then his interest may quickly wane, leaving Sarah with emotional scars.

  “It’ll be rather cozy in our hut tonight, don’t you think?” Jonathon asked in a low timbre, interrupting her thoughts. His eyes rested on her, catching the light of the flickering campfire. Beyond him, the water blazed beneath the sun’s last throes of life, setting fire to the crystalline blue. Staining it dark orange, blending ocean into sky.

  A cool breeze washed over them, sending a rush of goose pimples over her skin. Or maybe it was the way Jonathon’s deep voice rasped her nerve endings, the way his gaze seduced. Both held a masculine power that reached into the most feminine parts of her. Tightening her pussy, leaving her damp and uncomfortable.

  In that moment she realized how strong her weakness was when it came to Jonathon. Whatever magical control drew those supermodels to him, left her just as powerless. A whispered request from his sensual lips and she’d melt into him and beg for more. Her heart pounded in her chest as she stared into his eyes. His hand came up and his knuckles brushed her cheek, stroking back a loose strand of hair. She trembled with the touch, ached for more.

  “Phoebe, angel…” His fingers trailed above her ear, and it took a moment to realize he’d turned off her camera. He slipped it over her head, before he reached up and did the same with his. “I’d rather it be only us right now.”

  No, no, no, I can’t do this. She couldn’t catch her breath as he scooted closer. The tips of his fingers traced over her cheek, light as butterfly wings, before his palm settled there. The warmth of it sent a
shockwave of desire through her, and she sucked in a hard breath. “Please…” No.

  Jonathon leaned in, his lips hovered over hers. “There’s something about you, angel,” he whispered. “Something I can’t quite put my finger on.”

  His words leaked into the fog of lust, chilling the heat. Phoebe pushed back from him and scrambled to her feet, not daring to look back as she strode toward the surf. Tears welled up, and she swiped them away, sniffing. That “something” he’d mentioned had changed her life forever and it seemed he still didn’t remember it. And even if later he did recall their one night, would it matter to him? Probably not, she thought, as escaped tears trickled down her cheeks.

  Stars popped to life one by one as Phoebe stared over the Indian Ocean. The half-moon reflected in the waves, night birds took up choruses with frogs and the gulls. She heard the splash of something large as it breached the surface of the water. The peace soothed her rattled emotions, and she took several deep, cleansing breaths of the fragrant air.

  Before long the stressful day had taken its toll. Her eyelids grew heavy and she yawned. Sand fleas nipped at her feet and ankles, and she waded into the warm waves. The temptation to take a swim tugged her, but there were many species of sharks and stingrays calling the shallows home. They weren’t known to be particularly dangerous to humans, but nonetheless she didn’t want to risk an encounter while they were most active. Help was miles and miles away.

  She turned back to the campsite. Jonathon had disappeared, perhaps inside the hut. Shadows cast by trees made it impossible to see beyond the door. There wouldn’t be much space between them, even with her petite size. Being within touching distance of a man who left her wrecked seemed cruel. Sleeping outside might be better. But avoiding Jonathon wasn’t the answer, they still had a full twenty-four days left on the island. Best to buck up and deal with it. Let him know she could resist temptation despite the little voice that mocked otherwise.

  She returned to camp and peeped into their shelter. Jonathon lay on the pallet of palm fronds, an arm slung over his face. He appeared to be asleep. Her gaze drifted down his body. Muscular arms, six-pack abs, strong thighs. His boxer briefs stretched over his hips, and she saw the outline of his soft cock beneath. Heat crept into her face and she stepped back, deciding to tend to the fire.

  She fed some wood to the flames, and poked at the coals with a stick. Smoke drifted around her, burning her eyes, but chasing away the humming mosquitoes. With nothing else to keep her busy, and exhaustion leaving her shaking, she walked to the hut, placed her headband on the sand next to her island mate’s, and ducked inside the shelter. Jonathon had laid down as close to one wall as possible, yet their arms still brushed as she stretched next to him. His presence filled the small space, and she pulled palm fronds over her, trying to block him out.

  “Have any bedtime stories?” he asked.

  She started at the sudden sound of his voice. “Sorry, did I wake you?” she asked, silently cursing. Sleeping Jonathon was much easier to deal with than awake Jonathon in their tiny, makeshift home.

  “No, it’s too quiet to sleep. I’m used to the sounds of traffic.”

  The din of the island’s nighttime tropical creatures sounded louder than any traffic she’d ever heard. At home, she often fell asleep to the quieter sounds of crickets and owls.

  “Might be fun to share some ghost stories, seeing as we’re on a deserted island,” he continued.

  She heard him shift on the fronds. She looked over to find him lying on his side, propped on his elbow, staring down to her.

  “Come on, you don’t go to bed this early, do you?” he asked.

  Actually, she did many nights. She’d always been a morning person. Pre-dawn was her favorite time of day. The world was brand new, the forest awakening, and everything was perfect.

  “I’m an early riser,” she said, wiggling farther away from him until the wall dug into her side. “Though I have a feeling I won’t get much sleep tonight,” she mumbled.

  “Why’s that, angel?” he purred.

  She realized her mistake. “What I mean,” she corrected, “is the night is cooling off. We’ll most likely be shivering in a couple of hours.” Even at eighty degrees, being almost naked and on the damp sand would suck out their body heat.

  “Not if we huddle together for warmth.”

  Phoebe didn’t at all like how squirmy she suddenly felt. His scent filled her head—the last traces of sunblock mixed with the heady aroma of clean sweat. How unfair, he could at least have the decency to stink after working all day in the sun.

  The shelter became a cage. She stared out its opening, fighting claustrophobia. “I doubt if huddling will be necessary.”

  “I can think of all kinds of other ways to keep warm.” His voice dropped an octave. “Would you like to hear my ideas?”

  Her mind played with what those ideas might be. In vivid detail she recalled what his tongue could do. The way he’d used it to tease, tickle, and lick her to orgasm.

  “No,” was all she managed to say, squeezing her thighs together. “Goodnight, Jonathon.”

  He chuckled then fell silent, and she said a little prayer of gratitude. Phoebe shut her eyes, hoping sleep would come fast. She heard him settle onto his back.

  “Are you married? I didn’t see a ring or a tan line from one on your finger, but I should’ve asked before now.”

  She blinked at his question in the darkness. If she lied and said yes, would he still try to seduce her? She half-feared the answer. “No, are you?” she replied.

  “You know, I’m not sure anymore.” He yawned. “The tabloids have so much to say on my love life, maybe I am.”

  She frowned, and turned her back to him. Before long she heard his deep breaths of sleep, and she relaxed for the first time since meeting him on the island. The constant tempo of the ocean waves lulled her until at last she drifted off to sleep.

  It seemed only minutes later when she awoke to the sound of raindrops pelting their shelter. A light tat tat tat which picked up pace. The scent of rain filled the hut. Monsoon season was over, but as Phoebe sat up, the clouds opened up, dumping rain down in sheets. The fire vanished, and the odor of soot mixed with wet sand and the ocean.

  “Damn.” Jonathon sat up. Rain spilled between the weaving of palm fronds, wetting them both.

  Phoebe pulled her knees to her chest, soaked and shivering. “Somehow I knew this would happen,” she grumbled.

  “I wish you’d have warned me. I thought the weather stayed pleasant in the Maldives. We’re past the rainy season.” Lightning flashed, filling the interior. Jonathon hugged his arms around himself.

  The worst she’d expected had been a few warm showers, not a stormy downpour. Her hair stuck to her forehead, and water streamed into her eyes and off the tip of her nose. Another flash of lightning showed a huddled Jonathon looking as miserable as she felt. The wetter she got, the deeper the chill seeped until it settled in her bones. Wind gusted into the hut, spraying mist in her face.

  A lightning bolt exploded above them. Phoebe screamed. Arms closed around her as thunder shattered the night and her eardrums. Jonathon hugged her tight as another bolt crashed somewhere nearby. She grabbed hold of him, clutching and cringing with every flash of light and clap of thunder.

  “Shh, it’s okay,” Jonathon said against her ear, rocking her back and forth. She felt like a child in his arms, but she wasn’t willing to let go of his strength as the storm picked up intensity. “Now, this isn’t so bad, eh? Sort of romantic.” But even he flinched with the next lightning strike. Above the rain and wind she heard the waves battering the shoreline.

  She thought of Sarah as terror swelled in her heart.

  Chapter 5

  The hut rattled, and Jonathon held his breath, waiting for the wind to whip it off of them. Damn, he’d never ridden out a storm like this in such a feeble shelter. He hugged Phoebe tight; she trembled in his arms, reflecting his own anxiety. He felt helpless as another bolt c
rashed someplace close. He held her tighter, wanting to somehow protect her from the worst of the storm. They were in serious danger. Being in the middle of an electric storm without adequate cover spelled disaster. And a boat couldn’t make it to them while the squall raged.

  “It’ll pass soon,” he said above the sound of rain, surf, and wind. He could only hope he was right.

  Phoebe nodded. She felt small in his arms. The perfect mix of softness, toned muscle, and warmth. Her damp skin was silky smooth, and her hair held the faint scent of peaches and saltwater. He inhaled deeper, adrenaline suddenly mixed with desire. He rubbed her upper arm and closed his eyes, remembering how close he’d come to kissing her before she’d fled his touch. She had full lips, the perfect mouth to kiss. The perfect body to wrap around his while they made love.

  He was hard, and he fought the temptation to seek out her lips and indulge in one quick taste. Something to help dull the fear of the lightning, wind, and ravaging waves threatening to pummel the island to bits. At only a few feet above sea level, the land seemed too fragile to withstand such a ferocious onslaught.

  Jonathon kept his lips to himself, and the fury finally waned as the storm sought another island to harass. He let out a pent-up breath as the rain eased up and the wind died down. The ocean still beat the shoreline, the roaring sound filling the void the rest of the storm had left behind. They were safe though. Thank God they were safe.

  “I hope we don’t have many of those,” he muttered against the crown of Phoebe’s head.

  She nodded, but didn’t try to move away. The desire he’d felt earlier flamed into dizzying lust. He bit his bottom lip as her hand drifted down, settling on the top of his thigh. An innocent touch as she shifted in his arms. One not meant to stoke the fire in his blood and make his cock throb.

  “I’m still cold,” she said, trembling, her voice husky. “Do you mind if we stay like this a bit longer?”