No doubt this wasn't the first time someone had missed his or her ride during one of these outings. Romano would be able to tell them how to get her back to her ship.
Even as he watched, he could see the cruise ship moving over the horizon, its smokestacks growing smaller until they finally disappeared from view.
Yep, she was well and truly stranded, at least for now.
Steve wondered how long she'd been standing there looking out to sea. Did she really think that by staring after the disappearing ship—and it must have already dropped out of sight from where she stood—through sheer willpower she could mentally coerce someone to come to her rescue?
As though she heard his thoughts, the woman slowly turned and surveyed the island behind her, tilting her head upward so that for the first time he saw her face— her young, exquisitely shaped, delicately featured face.
His heart took off like a war drum stirring up the natives.
Not a good sign.
Being a red-blooded male, Steve wasn't going to deny that he noticed what a woman looked like, but he'd never before had this kind of reaction at his first sight of an attractive woman. After all, he hadn't been alone that long!
It was much too corny to say she looked like an angel, but the thought actually crossed his mind. The softly tinted tan that covered her body couldn't hide her fair complexion. Wisps of red curled around her cheeks and ears, the only hint he had of her hair color.
Even with the high-powered binoculars he couldn't see the color of her eyes, but they were light, and if he wasn't mistaken they were currently spilling tears down her cheeks as she sat down forlornly.
Definitely a damsel in distress, if he'd ever seen one.
Well, Steve, old boy, here's your chance to play hero.
Now that he'd gotten a better look at her, he wasn't at all certain he was ready to have the serene existence he'd adopted while on the island disrupted by an unusually attractive woman. He'd been living an easy life—shaving whenever his beard began to itch, living in the briefest of his swim attire, not having to take another person's whims into consideration.
It had been his experience that the more attractive a woman was, the more she expected her whims to be met, as though her beauty entitled her to special consideration. That attitude had always irritated him and he hoped to hell this woman wasn't some kind of prima donna who was going to take her irritation out on him because she'd missed her ride.
The very fact that she'd missed that ride suggested that she didn't think the rules were intended for her.
He sighed. Regardless, he couldn't leave her stranded on the beach, so he might as well get down there and make his presence known.
Since there was no trail down to that part of the island from where he stood, he would have to retrace his steps to about midisland, then follow the beach to where she was. Not that it mattered. She wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, that was certain.
Robin felt like a fool. How could she have wandered so far from the rest of them without noticing? How could she have been so caught up in her explorations that she forgot to watch the time? And why did she have to be such a klutz and fall, further delaying her?
She limped over to the shade of the thick jungle vegetation and sat down. She needed to take stock of her situation and decide what to do.
After removing her hat, she wiped her brow and scrubbed the tears from her face with her towel.
She had no one else to blame but herself, so she might as well stop feeling sorry for herself and decide how she was going to approach the owner of the island and ask him for assistance.
She gave herself a pep talk. It could be worse, she supposed.
Positive thought number one: she didn't have to worry about frostbite.
Positive thought number two: despite Cindi's teasing that she wasn't going on a six-week safari when she'd been getting ready for this outing, Robin had brought several items with her that might prove to be useful, depending on how long she was stranded here.
Which was another thing. She needed to remember what the passengers had been told they were to do if they missed the deadlines for reboarding. All she could recall was the stern admonition to be on time, which didn't help much at the moment.
In the meantime, she would look at what she had brought with her, and how it would help in her new situation. She opened her bag and carefully removed each item, one by one.
Her sunshades and her suntan lotion.
Since she never went anywhere without her supply of lotion, its inclusion was a given. Thanks to her mother, she had fair skin that had to be slathered with the highest UV protection on the market today. Even so, she'd managed to acquire more of a tan than she'd ever had before.
So far only Cindi had been there to admire it. However, there had been the possibility that during one of their ports of call she might meet some tall, dark stranger who would sweep her off her feet—all the while admiring her luscious tan, mind you—and show her all sorts of sinfully delicious pleasures that she'd been denied up until now because of her overprotective family.
The only problem with that scenario was that now she wouldn't have the chance to meet anyone. If she remembered the itinerary correctly, the ship would not be coming back this way for a week, when it was headed toward home port. And what if the ship didn't stop for another visit to this island on the return trip?
What if she was stranded here forever?
Okay, so forever was a little strong, she thought. No need to panic, after all. She reminded herself that there was a house somewhere on the island. If there was a house, there were bound to be people, right?
Right.
And she was going to go knock on the door like Little Red Riding Hood—or was that Goldilocks?—and ask for help.
There really was no help for it.
She dug into her pack once again.
The shirt she had worn to the island was folded inside, plus the slacks, windbreaker and second swimsuit.
Oh, great. No underwear.
A brush, a comb and a few cosmetic necessities.
Okay, so Cindi had been right about unnecessary items, but, boy, was she glad she'd thrown her cosmetic bag in. She actually had her small, folding toothbrush and paste in a travel size that she'd never had occasion to use.
At the bottom of the bag she found food. An apple, a pear, two oranges, two granola bars and a bottle of water.
That should hold her for at least—oh, maybe three to four hours.
Who was she kidding? She was marooned on an island for an undetermined number of days. She certainly didn't have enough supplies to survive without seeking help.
She would have to explore the island and hope that the natives were friendly.
She glanced up at the sun. It was definitely sliding toward the west. With a sigh of resignation, Robin stood, dusted off her shorts, placed her straw hat squarely on her head, shouldered her bag and lifted her shoulders.
She could do this. She was strong. She was self-reliant. She was woman!
Already feeling better with that little pep talk, she faced south and the unknown. She caught sight of movement in the distance.
Speaking of natives, she was just about to meet one of them.
His long stride carried him rapidly toward her as he trod the hard-packed sand near the edge of the water. For just a second Robin had an almost ungovernable urge to hide in the vegetation before her common sense prevailed. For one thing his purposeful strides made it clear he had already seen her and was coming to meet her. For another, she really did need some help.
She whipped out her sunshades and put them on, feeling better able to cope with a stranger behind the shields. Her mother had always told her that her eyes mirrored her every thought. She had no desire to let this stranger in on what she was thinking.
Especially about him.
As he drew closer, Robin's pulse accelerated. If he was a sample of the natives around here, all she could say was wow.
Doub
le wow.
The only article of clothing he wore was a faded pair of swim trunks that clung to his hips and thighs, lovingly molding their muscled shape. He was darkly tanned— almost bronzed—by the sun. His wide shoulders tapered to a trim waist and—
There she was, staring at his only article of clothing again.
Robin quickly glanced down his strongly muscled legs and noticed he wore boat shoes.
"You seem to be lost," were his first words as he came to a stop in front of her. She continued to stare at him. She couldn't help it. She hadn't moved since she'd first spotted him.
Many of her friends teased her about growing up with a bunch of good-looking brothers, and it was true that a handsome male didn't easily impress her.
So what was the matter with her?
Now that he was up close she could see that this was a man, not a boy. He looked to be in his thirties. Experience had left tiny lines around his eyes and mouth. His dark eyes were shuttered. His black, curly hair gave a boyish air to a man who seemed too serious to be in the habit of smiling much.
She smiled, hoping to ease the tension that had sprung up as soon as he spoke. "Not lost, exactly. Marooned would be a more accurate description."
He nodded toward the water. "You're a passenger on the cruise ship?" "I was."
"And you missed the launch." "I suppose this happens to you all the time," she said, her smile fading slightly when he didn't respond to it. He stood there with his hands resting lightly on his hips, his legs apart, looking at her as though she was an unidentified specimen he'd found washed up on the beach. Robin was not used to a man looking at her with such detached objectivity. Not that she was vain about her looks, but she'd grown used to being given a second glance by newcomers. It was that reaction by most men that had caused her brothers to appoint themselves her guardians. When they were around her, Robin never had to worry about being pursued by an unsavory character. They made certain that no one dared to follow up on an introduction.
Now, here she was, free of her brothers' interference, able to respond to a very attractive male if he showed any interest in her, only to discover that she'd made no impression on him whatsoever.
What a revolting development that was, she decided when he continued to watch her as though waiting for her to say something.
"I, uh, I presume that you're the owner of the island," she finally said.
"Nope," he replied cheerfully enough. "Just visiting."
"Oh. Well. Do you by any chance have a phone I could use?"
He grinned, and Robin hated the idea that she found him so very attractive. He had a killer smile, more potent because this was the first time he'd used it. "Whom do you intend to call?" he asked with genuine curiosity.
Good question. “Well, maybe I could contact the ship. At least I need to let my roommate know I didn't drown. Then maybe figure out what I can do next."
He turned and started back up the beach. "Sure. Come on. I'll show you the way to the house. It's at the other end of the island. Hope you don't mind a hike."
He didn't bother to wait to see if she was going to follow him, which she thought was somewhat rude. However, she didn't suppose it would do her much good to conduct lessons on manners at this point.
She trotted to catch up with him. "Have you been here long?'' she asked, hoping to show a polite interest in him.
"Nope."
She waited but he didn't say anything more.
They walked for some time in silence before she said, "You aren't much of a conversationalist, are you?"
Without breaking stride or looking at her, he said, "I came here to get away from people."
"Oh." After another few minutes, she added, "I truly am sorry for inconveniencing you."
"You aren't."
Maybe not, but he was making it clear that her appearance on the island wasn't something he particularly wanted.
At least they had that much in common.
He set a killing pace along the shore. By the time they eventually began to climb the path that led up to the house, Robin was breathing hard but too stubborn to ask him to slow down.
When they reached the top, she paused and stared at the house in awe. It was one story but seemed to go off on several angles, following the curve of the cliff. The view from any of the many windows must be absolutely spectacular. Whoever had built the place hadn't been short of money.
When they reached the patio with its comfortably padded chaise lounges and tables, she almost threw herself down on one of the chairs in relief. Instead, she looked at him, waiting for his next move.
It wasn't long in coming. "Do you know the phone number of the ship?'' he asked.
Why was it he kept making her feel like a complete fool?
"I, well, no, actually I don't."
He frowned and stepped closer, peering at her from under the brim of her hat. "You'd better sit down before you fall down. You're flushed and obviously overheated."
She thought of several responses, all sarcastic, that she could make. Instead she sat down and watched as he disappeared into the house.
Robin leaned her head back and closed her eyes. If anyone had told her, when she and Cindi decided to go on this cruise, that she would end up being stranded on an island with a stern-looking man whose unexpected smile would cause a grown woman to whimper, she would never have believed it.
Hadn't they fantasized about all the men they would meet on this cruise? They'd chatted about what they hoped their dream male would look like, how she and
Cindi would flirt and eventually break each man's heart because—after all—all they wanted was a vacation flirtation. Nothing permanent. Nothing serious.
Well, here was a man who could have stepped out of one of her fevered imaginings, and she didn't have a clue what to do or say. Everything that came out of her mouth sounded like something from an awkward, inexperienced schoolgirl.
This was so embarrassing. She'd managed to crash this man's quiet vacation and now had to make the best of it.
Well. She would get back to the ship as quickly as possible. There must be a way. This man must have some kind of transportation. If he would offer it. So far he was being polite. Minimally polite. She supposed that was the most she could expect.
She heard the whisper of the sliding glass door as it opened and she glanced up. Her rescuer came toward her, followed by a woman of magnificent proportions carrying a tray filled with a pitcher of something frosty and wet.
"Here you go, missy," the woman said, placing the tray on a nearby table and handing Robin a tall glass filled with ice cubes and a pink liquid. Robin sipped and sighed with sublime satisfaction. The tart fruit drink was just what she needed.
"Thank you so much," Robin said with heartfelt gratitude. The woman smiled and left.
"We should at least introduce ourselves," the man said, sitting on the lounge next to her chair, "since it looks as if we're going to be living together for a few days."
It was unfortunate that Robin had just taken another large swallow of liquid when he spoke. Part of it went down her windpipe, causing her to choke. She sprayed her drink down the front of her halter top and began to cough.
He immediately jumped up and began to pound on her back with enthusiastic vigor.
"Please," she managed to gasp. "I'm fine." Even she knew she was far from fine. Her voice came out strangled, but he certainly wasn't helping anything.
When he sat down and looked at her again, he picked up a towel nearby and silently offered it to her. She'd managed to set her glass down without spilling it and now took the towel, wiping the tears from her eyes and blotting her shirt of excess liquid.
"You okay?" he asked a few minutes later, watching her closely.
Boy, was she making points with this guy, she thought.
"What do you mean, we'll be living together?" she managed to croak through her raw throat.
He grinned again, which wasn't in the least fair. He truly had a killer smile that sh
e found totally distracting. "Oh! Is that what startled you? Hey, I didn't mean anything by it. But since this is the only house on the island, you don't have much choice. But don't worry, there are a half dozen bedrooms, and we'll have Carmela and Romano here to chaperon us, if you're concerned about being in a compromising situation."
She attempted to gather her dignity, which was a little tough given her present circumstances. "I wasn't worried. I suppose I was hoping to get off the island before having to spend a night."
“Not a chance. Romano might be able to take you over to St. Thomas in the morning, but I'm not certain how that would help you reach your ship. Was that to be one of the stops?''
"On the way back, I think," she replied hollowly.
He held out his hand. "I'm Steve Antonelli, from L.A."
Robin looked at his hand and hesitantly placed hers into it. "Robin McAlister. Texas."
"Yeah, I'd already gotten the Texan part."
She raised her brows. "From?"
"The way you talk. I have a neighbor in my condo association who came from Texas. You sound a lot like her."
Robin tugged on her hand and he immediately let go.
"You said you wanted to contact your roommate. I'm surprised he wasn't with you on today's outing."
"My roommate is female and she wasn't interested in the tide pools." She looked down at her hands clenched in her lap. "I wish I'd been less eager to see them, as well."
"Let's go in the house, and I'll see what I can do about getting a phone number for you. That sound okay?"
She nodded.
He ushered her into a spacious living area with floor-to-ceiling windows on opposite walls. The view was spectacular. It felt as though they were outdoors. A gentle breeze wafted through the open windows. This was a truly beautiful place to stay.
"You have a fantastic home," she said, clutching her carryall to her chest and turning in a slow circle. She could see a dining area through an arched opening into one part of the house. On the fourth wall a hallway stretched into the distance, leading to another wing of the house.
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