Preston shook his head quickly. “I’m just saying, whatever creature might be on this island that we don’t like—” He held up the knife. “—I’ll kill it. That’ll make us feel better, right?”
Ally grunted. “I’d rather pray there are no vicious creatures on this island. Carlos said only spiders.” She shivered.
“See? You don’t like spiders.” Preston grinned like a little boy with his first pocketknife. “I’ll kill them.”
“What is it with you and killing?” She put her hands on her hips.
He smiled impishly, finally looking chagrined. “I grew up with brothers, right on the coastline south of Boston. We explored, we built forts, and we killed dangerous creatures. It’s a boy thing.”
She rolled her eyes. “I only had sisters.”
“Ah, that explains it.”
“What?”
“The aversion to killing dangerous creatures. We aren’t going to kill the fluffy bunny rabbits or endangered turtles.”
Her eyebrows popped up. “Well, thank heavens for that. You’re like a little boy trapped in a buff man’s body.”
He grinned. “I’m feeling immensely better. This will be like being a Boy Scout again—exploring, building things, killing stuff.”
“Stop with the killing. Please.”
Preston shrugged, and she had to admit he was growing on her. He was easy on the eyes, but he also had an infectious mischievous spirit about him. “All right. But you’ll let me kill the spiders?”
“Yes. I won’t complain if you kill spiders or … other scary things.” She shuddered, not wanting to think about what might be in this jungle. “Let’s go find water now.”
“Good plan.” He nodded, but instead of walking into the thick greenery in front of them, he bent down and scooped up her Christian Louboutin silver heels, which she’d taken off to get through the sand earlier and then dropped by their supplies. She hoped they weren’t ruined from the salt water. That was admittedly the least of her concerns, but she’d still saved up over two thousand dollars to buy them, hoping they’d give her confidence for big parties like the one last night at Bucky’s. Such parties, and the job she’d worked so hard for, seemed a lifetime away on this beautiful, but unsettling spot of earth.
Preston dangled one shoe by the strap over his finger; it looked small and delicate next to how tough and big he was. He held the other shoe against a tree trunk and lopped off the heel with his knife.
Ally gasped like someone had punched her in the gut. Her beautiful shoes. “Wh-what are you doing?”
“Sorry.” Preston didn’t sound nearly repentant enough for butchering her beautiful shoes. She’d said he could kill spiders, not her favorite, most expensive item of clothing. He exchanged the first shoe with the second, and as a scream worked its way too slowly up and out of her throat, he chopped off the other heel.
“No!” she screamed, staring in shock at her massacred heels. The distinctive red sole had a gaping wound with the absence of the heel. “Those were Christian Louboutins!”
He held the knife loosely in his right hand and her mangled shoes in the other. “Now they’re practical.”
“What?” she gurgled out.
He smiled sheepishly and extended the shoes to her. She gingerly grasped them, not wanting to feel the gaps where the heels used to be. Glancing down, she saw the three-inch heels on the ground amidst leaves, sand, and sticks. The red was splashy, like blood, against the natural greens and browns. Her shoes!
“Didn’t you ever see Romancing the Stone? My little sister, Lottie, loves chick flicks, so we’ve seen every one my mom cleared as sweet enough for her. She’s really … innocent.”
Ally just kept on staring at him. What did chick flicks have to do with her shoes? It was interesting that this tough man in front of her had a tender side and would watch chick flicks for his sister, but why had he killed her shoes, then? The hero didn’t kill the heroine’s shoes in those movies. Yet in every other way, Preston definitely fit the role of hero. She shook her head. She wasn’t in a chick flick and needed to stop any fantasies about Preston Steele before they started.
“In the show, they get stranded somewhere in the jungle like … I think Columbia, maybe. Anyway, she’s wearing heels, and he cuts off the heel and she freaks, like you just did.” He smiled as if she were cute or something. “And she says all shrilly, ‘Those were …’ some fancy brand, and he says, ‘Well, now they’re practical.’”
Ally clung to her shoes. “Practical for what? We’re stranded on a deserted island!”
“But we still have to walk through that to find fresh water and a more protected place to shelter.” He pointed at the dense foliage. “I didn’t want you navigating it barefoot or in heels.”
Ally could see the practicality of that, but … “Couldn’t you have asked me?”
“Would you have said yes?”
She rolled her eyes. No, she wouldn’t have been able to part with these heels. The thought was ridiculous, since they were probably ruined anyway, and … she didn’t want to think about the fact that they may never get back to civilization. He was right: she didn’t want to be walking around barefoot or in high heels.
Bending forward, she started to strap the mutilated shoes on, her too-tight party dress riding up on her legs and down in the front. Preston cleared his throat. She glanced up at him, and the way he was looking at her made her even hotter than the tropical sun. “What?”
“You should be careful doing that move.” He sort of growled low in his throat. “The way those men looked at you when you did it earlier … it made me want to fight them all.”
Ally straightened and stared at him. Her putting her shoes on was some sexy, tempting move? How could she be sure he didn’t turn into a caveman when she had no clue how men worked?
When she said nothing, he glanced away and cleared his throat. “We probably should change before you put those on.” He loosened his tie and pulled it off, dropping it next to one of the boxes. Then he started unbuttoning his dress shirt.
Her mouth went dry. “Change?” She looked away, studying the waves gently rolling onto the soft sand. “What am I going to change into? There are no clothes here for me.” It was sickening to think that she was the add-on. If she hadn’t lured Preston out into Bucky’s garden last night, or whenever that party was, she wouldn’t be here. Those men must’ve been watching him and just waiting for the perfect opportunity to grab him and when she’d turned back to check on him, they’d gone after her too. Yet she hated the thought of Preston being here alone. That was dumb, as she hardly knew him, but she’d felt very protective of him when that man had pulled the knife in the yacht and she’d stepped in front of him to try to keep the criminals from spearing him.
She heard Preston’s shirt drop, and her breath stuck in her lungs. She couldn’t even bring herself to look at him when he didn’t have a shirt on. How was she going to spend who knew how long stuck on this island with him? Looking everywhere but at him, she waited for the answer to her question.
His footsteps approached, and she studied his long legs, still clad in his wet dress pants. Preston reached out and gently tilted her chin up with his fingers. Ally should’ve closed her eyes, but she didn’t. Instead she let them trail up his body, taking in his toned abdomen and defined pec muscles. Her eyes brushed over his well-built arms and shoulders; then she finally met his gaze.
His eyes were filled with humor. “I take it you’ve never seen a man without a shirt on.”
Ally gulped and shook her head, dislodging his hand. “No. I mean, at the beach and stuff, but I didn’t have brothers, okay?” This had nothing to do with siblings. If she looked at a brother the way she’d just studied Preston, that would be all kinds of disgusting. Preston was … not disgusting. Very appealing. Very manly. Very tough. How in the world was she going to be alone with him? He should put that extra large T-shirt she’d seen in the box on. Right now.
“I’m sorry to embarrass you.
I think it’s great how pure you are. But we’re going to be alone on this island for … a while. Are you going to be okay seeing me without a shirt on?”
“No. Put that stupid T-shirt on!” She wouldn’t be okay staring at him nonstop. Why would he insist on not wearing the T-shirt? He’d get sunburned or bug bites, or she might just touch him to see what that taut skin felt like, and that would make things awkward between them. She knew he couldn’t truly be interested in her, and she wanted to keep her distance, keep herself physically safe from a man, but also emotionally safe. As inexperienced as she was at dating, she could easily fall hard for a man like Preston.
“The T-shirt is for you,” he said softly.
“Me? It’d be huge on me.”
“It’d be like an oversized T-shirt dress. My little sister wears them all the time, and Slade recently bought a bunch of them for his fiancée, Mae. She loves T-shirts.” He smiled. “With funny sayings on them.”
“Are you over-explaining everything because you’re nervous?”
He nodded. “How would you feel if you were constantly staring at the most beautiful woman and knew you were stranded with her for the immediate future?”
Ally gulped. He couldn’t possibly mean that. “The most beautiful woman on this island?” she challenged, folding her arms across her chest to protect herself from his silky smooth tongue.
“That’s not what I said at all.”
“Stop with the compliments, please.”
His brow wrinkled.
She wanted to play it off that she was a professional woman, not the type who wanted to hear that she was beautiful. The truth was that she had rarely heard it, unless a man was trying to get something from her like her boss, Bucky. She certainly didn’t believe praise about her looks coming from an enigma like Preston Steele.
“I apologize,” he said stiffly.
“It’s fine.” It wasn’t fine that he threw empty compliments around like sand, and she had no clue how to deal with him, but she could adapt. She’d spent her life working hard and adapting to be successful.
Preston offered her the shirt, dispelling her awkwardness. “Will you wear it? It’ll be much more comfortable than your dress.”
Ally looked down at her tight formal dress. At this point, it felt like it was sewn to her body. She’d love to change. Taking the shirt, she said, “Thank you.”
He met her gaze. His dark eyes were incredible, with dark lashes and brows. His short facial hair framed his appealing lips. With his fame, athletic prowess, and looks, he had to beat beautiful women off with a stick. He was probably just used to women throwing themselves at him and was waiting for her to do the same. Why did he keep claiming that she was so beautiful? She’d bet he said kind words to women so often he didn’t even realize he was doing it.
“Of course,” he said.
He didn’t say anything about her not taking his compliment, or about her being uncomfortable seeing his chest. Which she appreciated, because she was definitely not comfortable staring at his well-formed muscles.
She motioned with her hand. “Turn around so I can change.”
A slow grin grew on his face. “So I guess we’re not going to get cozy with minimal clothing on around each other.”
“No! And you’d better know right now that I’m a good Christian girl, and you’re going to keep your hands to yourself while we’re stranded here.”
His grin stayed in place, and instead of looking upset, he said in a husky voice, “That’s why you’re so appealing.”
“Excuse me?”
“Women who are pure and beautiful. It’s the most attractive combination in the world.”
Ally’s breath rushed out at his words. She really needed a drink of water, some shade, his eyes to stop drinking in her face, to get away from here. She inhaled deeply and forced herself to say, “Can you go up into the trees or something for privacy?”
“I don’t want to let you out of my sight until we know what’s on this island.” He pushed a hand through his hair. “I don’t really trust Carlos’s word that we’re safe here.”
“Good point. Please turn around, then.”
He nodded. “Would you turn as well? I’ll change into the shorts.”
Man, it was hot and sticky on this island. Her stomach was so full of heat and longing she could hardly stand it. What was he doing to her? All he’d asked was for her to turn her back, but the thought of it … Whew! These feelings were unfamiliar, unsettling, and yet amazing to her. She whirled quickly, setting the shirt on a tree limb so she could unzip her dress.
Hearing his sharp intake of breath, she stopped mid-zip. “Are you looking?” she demanded.
“No,” Preston said with a low grunt. “But I still have ears.”
“Well, plug them.”
He chuckled. “I promise not to turn around. It’s just … rough being this intimate with you.”
“Well, we’re not going to be intimate,” she said primly, “so stop implying it.”
A few beats passed with her afraid to unzip her dress or even move. He didn’t say anything. She wanted to whirl around and see what he was doing, make sure he was facing away, but that wouldn’t be good. She wanted to try to trust him.
“You know what I mean,” he said in a deep, sonorous voice. “The entire situation is intimate. I won’t try anything, I promise.”
She couldn’t handle it. She whirled around. He was facing away from her, true to his word. His dress pants were still on, and he cut a beautiful, irresistible figure with his broad back popping with muscle.
“You won’t touch me?” she asked, breathlessly.
“Are you facing me?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He turned back around, slowly. Ally was able to appreciate every glorious inch of him. How hard had he worked to form a body that incredible? Professional athlete. It was his job, right?
“I’m going to have to touch you, Ally,” he said patiently, as if she were a three-year-old. “The tent is small, and it’s safer if we both sleep in it.”
Ally was panting for air again. She hadn’t even considered the tent. How was she going to protect herself from falling for him? The few times he’d touched her, she’d liked it—too much. Oh, heaven help her know how to deal with a man. It was a foreign problem to her.
“I’ll need to touch you to keep you safe. But …” His face fell. “I won’t kiss you or touch you unnecessarily … unless you want me to.”
Kiss her? Want him to? Every part of her wanted him to, and she barely knew him. It was safer to focus on the misery of being stranded and never eating chocolate again than it was to think about him kissing or touching her. Wow, he was direct, and she was … falling for him.
No, that was nuts. They were stuck in an extreme situation. It was natural they would lean on each other and physically have to touch, but she was driven, focused on her career, and she didn’t need or want a man in her life. Especially not a man who would eventually make her feel like less. When, or if, she did settle down, it would be with a studious, serious man like her father. Not some burly, irresistible football player. Preston wanted to kill things with a knife, for heaven’s sake.
“Thank you,” she said briskly. Then she shooed him with her hand. “Now turn around and get changed. I want to find a drink of water.”
He laughed and spun again. Ally let herself study his broad back for a second, but when he unzipped his pants, she whirled to face away, her cheeks and neck flushed with heat. She said a desperate prayer: Please bless there are no deadly animals on this island, I can keep my hands off that beautiful man, and we can find water and have enough food. But most of all, please, please let Preston’s brother find us soon.
Chapter Six
Preston knew there was a lot to worry about with survival and being stranded on an island: food, water, dangerous creatures, no way to make a signal fire, Carlos and his men coming back, and Gunner possibly never finding them. He knew those should be his primary
concerns right now, but he found his thoughts consumed with the witty woman he was stranded with. He loved her purity and the light that shone from her eyes. She reminded him of his little sister, Lottie, who was an angel. But he had no sisterly feelings for Ally. He’d never been so attracted to a woman. She was very different from the bony models he usually dated, and he loved her curves and soft, smooth skin.
“Okay, you can turn around now,” she said.
He smiled. He loved how she’d been obviously affected by seeing his chest. Many women chased him simply because he was a Patriots football player or a Steele brother or they thought he was good-looking. So many brazen women had hit on him in the most obnoxious ways. Ally had acted shocked and enthralled with his chest, as if she’d never seen a man without a shirt on before. She also seemed embarrassed or almost upset when he complimented her, as if men weren’t fawning over her all the time, and she was innocent and unspoiled. He liked her a lot.
Turning, he glanced over the much-too-big T-shirt on her. The neck hung down, revealing her smooth neck and the appealing length of her collarbone. The sleeves covered her upper arms, hanging past her elbows. The body was shapeless and much too big—drowned her was the only way he could think to describe it—but he loved the way it made her look so feminine. The best part of all was her shapely legs poking out underneath the shirt, as it stopped a few inches above her knees.
“It looks … pretty awful,” she said.
“What?” How could she think that, and how could a woman as beautiful as Ally ever doubt that she was attractive? “No.” He stepped up closer to her, awed by the way he was drawn to her. He’d dated many famous women who had absolutely no effect on him while they were professionally dolled up, yet Ally in a huge T-shirt could literally make his knees weak. “You look …” Irresistible, gorgeous, sexy? None of those would work and help him keep his attraction to her under control. “Really cute.”
Steele Family Romance Collection Page 15