The Castaway Bride

by Kandy Shepherd

  Matt surprised her by kissing her swiftly, wordlessly on the mouth. Then he made her crouch low out of the way of the blades before helping her clamber up into the cabin. They sat on rough seats behind the others and the pilot handed them a set of earmuffs each. “For the noise,” he mouthed, somewhat unnecessarily.

  As she sat beside Matt, their thighs touching, Cristy felt the lowest she’d felt since the day she’d run out on her butt-groping bridegroom. When he couldn’t hear a word you said, how could you confess your feelings to the man you loved?

  Her heart sank further as she realized the helicopter was flying in over Starlight Island. So much for running away. But surely Howard would not still be there? He had a business to run in Sydney—and no honeymoon to take.

  But her worry over Howard dissipated as she looked down and saw the uprooted trees and storm-driven damage. She gasped and Matt mouthed a curse. The storm that had touched their island had blitzed this one.

  The resort lay below them, the heliport on the grassy patch between the sand and the grounds of the resort, away from the storm-torn palm trees.

  Within minutes they had landed. Pete Nicholls clambered down and held out a hand to help her. She hesitated, wanting more time next to Matt. This might be the end, the last moment of intimacy before their farewells. Or had that kiss been goodbye?

  But Matt nudged her and she got up and took Pete’s hand. Crouching down away from the blades she ran out of range of the helicopter, then tripped on her flip-flops and stumbled.

  She felt Matt from behind help her to her feet and she looked up—only to be blinded by a sudden flashing of lights. She blinked, bewildered, like a deer caught in headlights. The drone of the helicopter diminished as it took off and she found herself facing a crowd of people aiming cameras at her and waving microphones.

  “Miss Walters,” one shouted. “Tell us how if feels to be free?”

  “Over here, Cristy,” urged another. “Did he hurt you, did—?”

  “Ohmigod!” screamed another. “Look at the bruises on her, he’s beaten her.”

  The cameras swiveled wildly in the direction of her thighs. Shutters clicked and motor drives whirred.

  Dumbly, Cristy looked down. Her shredded skirt had gotten rucked up and the vicious bruises, from her fall when the bed had collapsed, glared purple and ugly.

  With shaking hands, she tugged her skirt down. Feeling hunted, she turned back to Matt to find him looking as disconcerted as she was. The media pack switched its attention to Matt but he folded her toward him, shielding her with his body. The cameras flashed.

  Then she was wrenched away from him at the same time he was pulled away from her. A large, luridly colored beach towel was flung around her breasts and bare shoulders to protect her from the prying cameras.

  “Matt,” she screamed, reaching out for him.

  But he had turned away and was talking with a shorter, plumpish man who punctuated their intense conversation by shouting “no comment!” at the media who pressed in on them.

  She tried to break away from the hands that gripped her elbows and pulled her further away from Matt. “Let me go!” she cried, frantically twisting to be freed.

  “Cristy it’s okay,” came a reassuringly familiar voice.

  Startled, she looked up to see Howard, his face creased with concern, his pale eyes anxious.

  “Cristy, thank God you’re safe,” he said, taking her into his arms.

  She stopped her struggling and, in relief, let herself relax into the security of his embrace, barely aware of the barrage of flashguns that went off as she did so.

  “Smile for the camera, lovebirds,” someone called out.

  “Howard,” Cristy whispered hoarsely. “What’s going on?”

  “C’mon,” he said. “Let’s get you away from this pack of hyenas.”

  Cristy let him walk her forward a step then she stopped and shrugged him away. “Wait!” She didn’t want to be with Howard. Where was Matt?

  Frantically she pulled away from Howard. She screamed out Matt’s name. But all she could see of him was his dark head above the crowd of reporters surrounding him as, accompanied by the shorter man, he walked rapidly away from her.

  Matt stared over the shoulders of the baying press pack. Cristy was enfolded tightly in her fiancé’s arms. Matt’s fists clenched by his sides and he gritted his teeth. His thoughts were bitter. How could he have ever thought this would end any differently?

  The bride was back with her society bridegroom, just—no doubt—as she’d always intended. He’d wanted to believe differently, but the proof was there before his angry, jealous eyes.

  Had the whole running-away scenario been some kind of test for Howard to prove his devotion? The ginger-haired guy looked devoted all right, his sunburned face creased with concern and gratitude that Cristy was back by his side.

  Matt spun on his heel and turned away without a backward glance. He strode after Danny—who had been there to meet him, full of apologies and repentance—away from the media and toward the opposite end of the hotel.

  What a fool he’d been. That damn white charger was getting sent straight to the glue factory. At a fast trot.

  The storm meant he could no longer take time out from the driver’s seat of his business. Responsibilities had to be shouldered again. And there were tough conversations ahead with Danny that would take some time.

  In the meantime, he’d do his best not to bump into Mrs. Templetton-To-Be until she flew right away from this island and out of his life.

  But as for that idiot Howard with his false accusation of kidnapping—he’d be seeing him again. With his lawyer. In court.

  Cristy let Howard hustle her away from the reporters. “No comment. Miss Walters has nothing to say,” he kept repeating.

  After the third time he said it, Christy twisted a step away from him. “Actually, I do have something to say,” she said, tightly wrapping the beach towel around her.

  “I was not kidnapped,” she said as firmly as her voice, hoarse from shouting over the helicopter, would let her.

  “Matt Slade kindly gave me a ride on his boat. We were headed for the airport on Hibiscus Island and we ran aground in the storm. That’s it. End of story. He was kind to me, looked after me. He… Matt Slade…” Her voice began to break. “He’s one of the good guys.”

  She turned to walk away. Where was Matt? They should be facing this together.

  “How much for your story, Cristy? Exclusive?” shouted one reporter.

  “Where did you sleep on that island?” leered another.

  This was a nightmare.

  “I said, end of story,” she managed to get out before letting Howard lead her away, glaring at the media as he did so.

  Howard kept one step ahead of the pursuing crowd until they got to a side door to the hotel. There, hotel staff barred the way to the reporters and camera crews.

  Cristy stumbled inside and gulped in the cool, air-conditioned air. She looked up at Howard. “Thanks for that,” she said.

  His face contorted with anguish. “It’s the least I could do. Cristy, I’m so sorry. About the wedding. About Miriam. I never meant to hurt you. I feel so guilty, so—”

  He looked over her shoulder and Cristy became aware that someone else was in the room. Miriam stood behind them, clutching the back of a sofa for support. Her best friend, Miriam.

  Her bridesmaid looked as though she hadn’t slept for days, her dark, curly hair a mess, her face tear-stained and her brown eyes red-rimmed. She seemed as though she wanted to run toward her but didn’t dare.

  “Oh Cristy, I’m so glad you’re safe. Alive. I’ve been sick with worry.” She started to sob, her usually cheerful, pretty face crumpled and tear stained. “It was all my fault and I’m so sorry.”

  Miriam looked toward Howard, and Cristy saw something pass between them, a message that didn’t require words. Big tears rolled down Miriam’s face and Cristy could see that Howard longed to comfort her.

&n
bsp; Why, they love each other, Cristy realized. Where had that come from? And where the heck was Phil?

  “It’s okay, Miriam, truly okay,” Cristy said.

  “How can you ever forgive me?” Miriam sobbed.

  Cristy looked from Howard—buddy, pal, never lover—to Miriam. She thought about the last time she’d seen her friends together in that passionate clinch. And knew it didn’t hurt a bit. In fact, she was glad for them. If there was jealousy, it was jealousy that they had together what she longed for with Matt. Certainly not with Howard.

  Quickly she took the few steps that took her to Miriam and hugged her. “Of course I forgive you,” she said. She looked over her friend’s curly head to Howard. “And you too, Howard.”

  Howard looked disbelieving. Miriam clung to Cristy, still sobbing.

  “Getting married would have been a big mistake,” Cristy said to Howard. “I realize that now.” She turned to Miriam. “Howard and I are good friends. And that’s all we should ever have been.”

  “Oh Cristy,” wailed Miriam. “How can you be so nice about it?”

  Gently, Cristy disengaged herself from her friend’s arms. “Go on,” said Cristy with a little nudge. “Go to him.”

  Howard put his arm protectively around Miriam and she snuggled against him. Cristy felt her heart spasm as she saw the loving expression in Howard’s eyes and the adoring way Miriam looked up at him.

  But the heartache wasn’t for the loss of Howard. It was for Matt. And what she yearned to share with him.

  She looked out of the window to the view of the huge, free-form pool, its surface scattered with storm debris, to the turquoise sea beyond. The island—hers and Matt’s island—was out there somewhere. But where was Matt? Why hadn’t he sought her out by now?

  She forced her attention back to her friends.

  “So, tell me about you guys,” she asked them.

  “I’ve always loved Miriam,” confessed Howard. “Right from when I first met her in our freshman year at college. But she only had eyes for my buddy Phil.”

  “Whom I married, as you know,” said Miriam with a painful twist to her mouth.

  Cristy knew that Miriam’s marriage to Phil had never been a happy one. She’d often wondered why Miriam stayed with him.

  “I never married,” said Howard. “I’d always hoped she’d wake up to what Phil was really like with women. But she didn’t. So I, uh…”

  “Decided to marry someone you didn’t love,” Cristy finished for him.

  “That… that’s not true…” Howard blustered.

  Cristy smiled to put him out of his misery. “Well… didn’t love in the right way,” she amended.

  Gratefully, Howard nodded.

  “So… what next?” Cristy asked.

  “Phil left me just two days before your wedding; went back to the States,” confessed Miriam, looking downcast.

  “Miriam! How awful. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t want the end of my marriage to blunt the joy of your special day,” said Miriam.

  No wonder Miriam had been so low while the wedding preparations were going on. Cristy had put it down to the problems she’d been having with her bridesmaid dress.

  Howard chimed in. “Miriam had to confide in someone. She’d just told me about Phil when you surprised us kissing.”

  “Then he told me he’d always loved me,” said Miriam. “And I admitted that I’d loved him for a long time, too.”

  Cristy thought of her elaborate wedding preparations, the guests waiting in the Orchid Room for the bride and groom. “So… what would you have done if I hadn’t caught you at it?”

  Howard and Miriam exchanged glances and, once again, Cristy reeled at the depth of emotion between them. “I would have done nothing,” said Miriam firmly. “Howard had made a commitment to you. I would have insisted he honored it.”

  “And sacrificed the love you’d longed for?”

  “But I wouldn’t have let her,” said Howard. “With Miriam in my arms at last, I knew I could only marry her. For it to be a real marriage, that is. I’m sorry Cristy, I never wanted to hurt you but—”

  “Ultimately, you would have hurt me more by going ahead with it,” said Cristy, knowing she was speaking the truth. And that she had been beyond foolish to think a marriage without real love could have worked.

  “Cristy, we… we both care for you so much,” said Miriam. “If only we could make it up to you somehow.”

  Cristy felt tears stinging her eyes and she wiped them with the back of her hand. “I love you guys. You don’t need to make up for a thing.” She stepped forward and hugged them both. “Group hug,” she managed to get out.

  With her arms around her friends, she thought back to her question for Matt. Who would she miss most if she got stranded forever on a tropical island? Matt first and foremost, but probably then—after her mom and dad—Miriam. Her friend meant a lot to her. Howard too, but strictly as a friend.

  “Thank heaven I did catch you at it,” she said, releasing them and stepping back. “So we all didn’t make one giant mistake. You’ve waited a long time for your happiness—you deserve it.”

  She pulled the massive diamond ring off the third finger of her left hand and handed it to Howard. He refused to take it back. “It’s yours,” he insisted.

  Cristy shook her head. “I kept it safe for you. I have no right to it. It belongs to your family. I was marrying you under false pretences.”

  “Please, Cristy,” said Howard. “I gave it to you in good faith.”

  “It was your grandmother’s. If Miriam doesn’t want to wear it, save it for your daughter when you have one.”

  Cristy swallowed hard at the look of joy that flashed between them. She guessed that babies were on the do-soon agenda for her friends.

  When would she ever have a love like that? A love strong enough that she could risk getting pregnant again? Matt had made it very clear he didn’t want marriage—could she settle for less?

  Howard reluctantly put his hand out for the ring. “Only if you’re sure,” he said.

  “I’m quite sure,” Cristy said. Howard took the ring and slipped it into his pocket.

  “But what about you Cristy?” asked Miriam. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Of course I am.”

  “What about those bruises on your thigh?”

  Christy felt herself blushing at the memory of incurring them. “Just… just a little accident.” She prayed that her nipples wouldn’t harden and betray her as she relived the pleasure Matt had given her the morning she’d fallen from the canvas bed. And that afternoon. And in the evening. Multiples on multiples on multiples.

  Miriam looked at her through narrowed eyes. “Nothing you want to tell me about?”

  “Really I’m fine,” Christy reassured her. “And I’m happier than you can imagine about you guys getting together. You see… now I know myself what it’s like to really be in love.”

  Miriam’s mouth made an O of astonishment. “Cristy, no! Not Matt Slade?”

  Cristy nodded. “Miriam, he’s so wonderful. Everything I ever wanted in a man but didn’t know existed.” She cast a look up at Howard. “Uh… I mean….”

  Howard laughed. “No offence taken,” he said, squeezing Miriam closely.

  The words bubbled out of Cristy. Talking about her love made it somehow seem more real. “Though I have no idea if he feels the same,” she concluded.

  “Crazy if he doesn’t,” said Howard, comfortable back in the role of best guy friend.

  “But you know nothing about him,” said cautious Miriam. “Do you realize that—?”

  “He’s a builder,” said Cristy. “Quite a successful one, I believe.”

  Howard surprised her with a short bark of laughter. “A builder? Well, I guess you could call Matt Slade that.”

  “I can’t believe he didn’t tell you,” added Miriam.

  Sudden fear clutched Cristy. Fall in love with a stranger and you could never
be quite sure he wasn’t a serial killer. “What do you mean?”

  “You don’t know?” said Miriam.

  “Know what?” Her mouth was suddenly dry.

  “Matt Slade might have started off as a builder but now he’s one of the biggest property developers in the Southern Hemisphere.”

  Christy clutched Miriam for support. “I… I had no idea.” She had to swallow hard.

  “So you don’t know he owns Starlight Island? And the island you were stranded on? And half the other islands around here?” asked Howard.

  “He… he didn’t say.” Cristy’s head was spinning and Howard’s voice seemed to come from a long way away.

  “Come on, Cristy. Don’t you remember Taipan Slade International? We dealt with them not long after we got to Sydney.”

  Cristy collected her thoughts. “Taipan Slade International,” she said slowly. “Yes, I do remember them now, though I didn’t do much work at all on that job. A privately-owned company worth zillions.” She trawled her memory for details. “Headed by… by Matthew J. Slade.”

  “Matt Slade,” said Howard unnecessarily.

  “I… I didn’t make the connection,” she said slowly. And Matt hadn’t exactly been in a rush to make it for her.

  Why?

  “We didn’t either at first, of course. We didn’t know who the guy was who was taking you off on his boat.”

  “You thought he’d kidnapped me,” said Cristy with a wry smile.

  “We were frightened for you,” said Miriam. “When they traced the boat and we realized you were with Matthew Slade we thought you were probably okay—”

  “And we told the police not to bother,” said Howard.

  “But they took it seriously. And of course, by then, the press had picked up on it,” said Miriam.

  “A runaway bride. A billionaire villain,” said Howard. “Then the storm.”

  “And your father is a friend of the President,” groaned Cristy. “I can see how it happened.”

  “One of the gutter newspapers ran a story that Matt Slade was demanding a huge ransom from Howard’s father,” said Miriam.