Ready for Anything, Anywhere!

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Ready for Anything, Anywhere! Page 13

by Beverly Barton


  “Jordan, dear boy,” Dr. Arnell’s weak, almost inaudible voice called out.

  “Yes, sir?” Jordan replied without turning around.

  “I’m too tired to try to find help, but you must seek out the natives tonight. If you don’t, I’m afraid we’ll lose Molly.”

  Cheryl sensed the tension in Jordan and understood his situation.

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t go inland tonight,” Jordan replied. “We lost what few supplies we had when the lifeboat capsized. I have no compass, no flashlight and I have no idea where to go. We don’t have a choice but to wait until morning.”

  “If you won’t go, then I must,” The Professor said.

  Jordan groaned softly. Cheryl reached over and squeezed his hand.

  Their gazes met, the three-quarter moon shimmering over them as the blaze from the fire behind them added extra illumination to the black night.

  She leaned closer and whispered, “Tell him we’ll go now and search for the natives, then you and I can walk up the beach and out of his sight. I give him fifteen minutes, twenty at most, before he falls asleep from sheer exhaustion.”

  Jordan nodded, then rose to his feet and extended his hand to help her. He turned to his old professor. “Cheryl and I will see if we can find someone. You stay here with Molly. We’ll be back as soon as possible.”

  Smiling faintly, Dr. Arnell sighed. “Thank you. Thank you, my boy.”

  They walked up the beach, remaining silent until they were out of earshot, then Cheryl said, “I wish this had been The Professor’s island. I wish he could have his dream before he dies.”

  Jordan paused, looked at her and then continued walking.

  “We don’t know for sure that this isn’t his island.”

  “What?” Cheryl stopped dead still.

  Jordan stopped and turned to face her. “We lost our boat in a freak storm, then our lifeboat seemed to drift on a current that led us straight to this island. An uncharted island in the middle of the Devil’s Triangle. Fifty years to the day that Dr. Arnell discovered his island when he was twenty.”

  “You can’t seriously think that this is—”

  “Why do you think it’s not possible?”

  “Well, for one thing, this island seems to be uninhabited. There are no two-hundred-year-old natives bringing us food and water and a healing plant to save Molly’s life.”

  “They might not know that we’re here.”

  “Okay, you’re spooking me out with talk like that.”

  “That wasn’t my intention,” he told her. “And it’s quite possible that this is nothing more than an uncharted, uninhabited island. But come morning, I’m going inland … in search of Dr. Arnell’s Utopia.”

  And then she said something that she wouldn’t have thought, not in a million years, that she’d ever say. “I’m going with you. And I hope we find it. The people, the plant, everything the old man believes in.”

  Jordan stared at her. “Either you’ve changed a great deal or I didn’t have any idea who you really are. There’s a lot more to you than just a spoiled, bratty heiress.”

  “Was that a compliment?” She smiled at him.

  “Just an observation.”

  “Well, I’ve observed something, too,” she told him.

  “What?”

  “That you’re quite a man, Jordan Elders. And I trust you to keep me safe.”

  Chapter 11

  Gwen sat in front of the blazing fire, her back propped against a huge piece of driftwood, her gaze focused on the dark ocean. Was there anyone out there? A ship? A plane? Someone who would come to their rescue? Or were they trapped here on this supposedly nonexistent island, doomed to die here together? Nothing seemed real. Not this island, not her journey in search of her father, not even her relationship with Will Pierce. It was as if she had stepped outside her life—her real life—and had fallen headlong into a parallel universe. Was this how her father had felt most of his life, as if he were a part of two different worlds?

  “I return bearing gifts,” Will said as he came back from his short visit into the wooded area directly behind them.

  Gwen glanced over her shoulder. Will carried an armful of palm fronds. She watched while he arranged the huge leaves in a large rectangle atop the sand. When he finished, he bowed to her.

  “My lady’s bed awaits.”

  “Where are you going to sleep?” she asked.

  He eyed the makeshift pallet. “I thought surely you’d share with me since there’s plenty of room. Besides, if it gets chilly, you might need a little body heat.”

  “You take the bed. I don’t think I can possibly sleep tonight.”

  Will came over and sat down beside her. “Why’s that?”

  “I’d think it would be obvious. We’re lost in the middle of the Atlantic. No one knows exactly where we are. We have no means of escape.”

  “Yeah, well, there is that.” He chuckled.

  She glared at him. “How can you find this amusing? We could die here.”

  Will shrugged. “The way I look at it, given our circumstances, we’re damn lucky.”

  “You’re going to have to explain that one to me. How can you say we’re lucky?”

  “We have several weeks of food, water and supplies on the Footloose. We’ve landed on a tropical island. Fish will be plentiful. Plus my guess is that there are all kinds of fruit trees and more than likely a lagoon of fresh water somewhere around. We could easily live here indefinitely.”

  “So you think the possibility of living here indefinitely makes us lucky?”

  “It sure as hell beats the alternative.”

  Gwen groaned. “Well, when you put it that way.”

  “And there’s one other plus to our being marooned together.”

  “That would be?”

  He grinned sheepishly. “The obvious. You’re a woman. I’m a man.”

  “Which to you equates sex, right?”

  “Right.”

  “I think you’re being awfully presumptuous.”

  “I’m being realistic. Even if we’re stuck here for only a few weeks, we’re both going to get horny. It’s just a matter of time before we—”

  “Speak for yourself!” How dare he assume that because of their predicament, she’d be eager to have sex with him.

  “I am speaking for myself.” He ran the tips of his fingers down her spine, from shoulder blades to buttocks. “I’m all for celebrating being alive. What better way to do that than to make love?”

  “It would hardly be making love,” she told him, wishing he’d move his hand from where he’d spread his open palm across her lower back. “It would just be sex.”

  “What’s wrong with just sex?” He eased his palm up, then underneath the waist of her pants and slipped inside, his flesh firm and rough against her soft buttocks. She tensed.

  She couldn’t go all mushy female, despite the decidedly sexual sensations clutching and releasing in her nether regions. It would be a mistake to allow what she was feeling right now to override her common sense. Will didn’t want her, Gwen Arnell. He wanted a woman, and she was the only one available. If he had another choice, she seriously doubted he’d choose her. She was certainly no man’s fantasy, and she hated the thought of being just a warm body in the night.

  “There’s nothing wrong with just sex,” she told him. “As long as that’s what both parties want.”

  “And you don’t want sex? You aren’t the least bit interested? You can go the rest of your life without it?” He caressed the top curve of her buttocks, then moved from one hip to the other. “Don’t lie to me. I can feel you trembling. You need it as badly as I do. Admit the truth.”

  Was she trembling?

  Yes, damn it, she was trembling. And it was all because of Will, because he was touching her.

  Maybe he was right. It had been quite some time since she’d been with a man. The problem was that she wasn’t the type for meaningless affairs, and committed relationships didn’t h
appen all that often for her. Besides, even in the few relationships she’d had since her divorce, she had never felt completely fulfilled, either physically or emotionally. Men said “I love you” as easily as they breathed if they thought it would get them what they wanted. But no matter how sincere those three little words might be, they were just words. Without the action to back them up, they were meaningless. A woman wanted to hear those words, needed to hear them, but in the long run, actions speak louder than words. And not once had any man ever proven to her by his actions that she was the most important thing in the world to him.

  “You can’t give me what I want.” Gwen pulled away from Will and jumped to her feet.

  With one swift leap, he came up beside her and cradled his hand over her shoulder. “What makes you so sure that I can’t give you exactly what you want?”

  She jerked away from him. “Damn it, I’m not talking about sex. I’m sure sex with you would be great. It would be mind-boggling. Unforgettable. But I’d regret it later.”

  “Why would you regret it? I’m not married. You’re not married. We’re both adults, and I can promise you that I’m disease free and I’d bet my bottom dollar you are, too. So—”

  “So what about contraception? You don’t happen to have a box of condoms on you, do you?”

  Raking his fingers through his thick wavy hair, Will cursed under his breath. “Yeah, that could be a problem.”

  “As much as I’d like to be a mother someday, I’d like to be married before I have a baby.”

  As if some brilliant idea had suddenly popped into his head, Will grinned. “There’s more than one way to have sex.”

  Gritting her teeth, Gwen groaned. “You just won’t give up, will you?”

  “Not when I really want something.”

  “You don’t want me.”

  “Oh, yes, I do.”

  “You want sex, and I just happen to be the only available woman.” Gwen glared at him. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

  When he reached for her, she sidestepped his grasp and turned her back to him.

  “Between your father and your ex-husband, they did quite a number on your self-esteem, didn’t they?” Will made no move to touch her again.

  His comment hit home, hurting her as if he’d plunged a knife into her back. But only because there was an element of truth in what he’d said. “My self-esteem is just fine, thank you.”

  “Maybe your self-esteem as a botanist is just fine, but not your self-esteem as a desirable woman.” Will’s deep, soft voice wrapped around her in the darkness, its power as potent as if he’d actually caressed her. “Just because your father didn’t treasure you the way a man should treasure his little girl doesn’t mean you aren’t worth more than all the mythical islands and youth-serum plants that might or might not exist. And just because your husband was incapable of loving and appreciating you the way a man should doesn’t mean you can’t inspire complete devotion from another man.”

  Stop talking! Don’t say these things to me. I can’t bear to hear you tell me what my heart longs to hear.

  With emotion lodged in her throat and on the brink of tears, Gwen walked hurriedly away from Will. The farther she moved away, the faster she walked, until she broke into a slow run as she fled along the beach into the warm, shadowy night. Only the moonlight shimmering on the ocean waves and glimmering against the crystal-white sand saved her from being lost in total darkness.

  Twilight had faded into night so slowly that Cheryl’s sight adjusted easily to the soft moonlight that cast a golden shadow over the waves and set the sand beneath her feet sparkling like a zillion tiny diamonds. Under different circumstances, she would have found this place beautiful, a truly unspoiled tropical paradise. But knowing she was a castaway with no means of communicating with the outside world tarnished the Eden-like atmosphere. She was certainly out of her element. Being the daughter of a billionaire, she wasn’t used to roughing it.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked Jordan when he simply stared wide-eyed at her after she’d told him that he was quite a man. “Can’t you take a compliment?”

  “I, er, yes, thank you. I think. But I’m afraid I don’t understand why you’d say such a thing. I thought you despised me.” Jordan began walking again, moving up the beach at a leisurely pace.

  Cheryl followed alongside him. “I did despise you, but I despise Tori even more for getting me into this situation. I swear I couldn’t understand what she saw in you, even though she tended to always go for the brainy nerds.” Cheryl laughed. “Sorry. I guess being called a brainy nerd is sort of a backhanded compliment, isn’t it?”

  Jordan grunted. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

  “I think maybe she saw something in you that I see now. I guess you really can’t judge a book by its cover. I’d have never thought you’d wind up being the big, strong hero.”

  “Me?” he asked, honestly puzzled that she’d referred to him as a hero.

  “Yes, you. You do realize that without you, the rest of us would probably be dead. In one way or another, you saved all of us today.”

  Jordan paused and looked out at the ocean. “I just did what had to be done.”

  “Yes, I know. And that’s what makes you a real hero.”

  “You’ve been pretty heroic yourself. Instead of falling apart on me, you’ve helped me with Dr. Arnell and Molly. I appreciate that.”

  A long, lingering silence vibrated between them. Cheryl wasn’t sure what to say or do next. If she did what her instincts told her to do, she’d go up behind Jordan and wrap her arms around him. She would tell him that she wasn’t heroic at all, that she was on the verge of panic, that she was scared out of her mind. If not for trying her best to follow his example, she would already have crumbled to pieces.

  “Jordan?”

  “Huh?”

  “Is there any chance that we’ll be rescued?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “If we’re not.”

  Jordan faced her and pulled her into his arms. “I’m scared, too. I have no idea what’s going to happen to us. I’m just hoping that we can find a freshwater stream somewhere on the island and maybe fruit trees and wild berries.”

  Cheryl laid her head on his chest and clung to him.

  “I’m pretty much useless, you know,” she told him. “I’ve never done anything in my entire life. I’ve never made a bed or fixed toast or—” She burst into tears.

  Jordan cupped her face in his hands and lowered his lips to hers. His kiss took her breath away.

  He skimmed his hands over her shoulders, across her back and downward to cup her buttocks. She stood on tiptoe to participate fully in the kiss. Hot, hard, tongue thrusting. Wow!

  They were so absorbed in the kiss that neither of them heard the odd noise; not at first. But as Jordan lifted his head and they stared dreamily into each other’s eyes, Cheryl froze.

  “Do you hear that?”

  He clutched her shoulders. “Be still and quiet.”

  She did as he ordered, not moving, not speaking, barely breathing.

  In her peripheral vision, she saw a dark shadow approaching.

  Could it be Mick McGuire? Had the man come after them? If so, that could only mean trouble.

  Oh, God, now there was another shadow approaching and another and another.

  “Jordan?” she whimpered his name.

  “Shh.”

  “What is it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Whoever or whatever created those dark shadows, they now surrounded Jordan and her. Circled them.

  Suddenly a loud, frightened scream rent the night air. Who was screaming? she wondered, then realized that she was.

  Stopping to catch her breath, Gwen sucked in huge gulps of air to refresh her aching lungs. Doubled over and panting, she could not hold back the tears. She cried so hard that the tears streamed down her cheeks, over her nose and off her chin. Had her entire life, all thirty-three years, led to this moment, to being deser
ted on an uncharted island in the middle of nowhere, with a man she barely knew? Was there no chance of their being rescued, of her having the opportunity to return to her safe and secure home in Alabama? She wanted to go back to the real world, to escape from this bizarre fantasy. Had she, in the end, become her father’s daughter simply by chasing after him, hoping for the impossible just as he had? When all was said and done, was there really any difference between his improbable dream and hers? He hoped to find a mythical island where a magical plant grew, while she longed for a loving, nurturing, normal relationship with her father.

  Lifting her head, Gwen stared out at the dark, endless ocean. A sense of hopelessness overwhelmed her. More than likely her father and his shipmates had encountered the same freak storm that Will and she had. But if her father and those with him had survived, where were they now? An inner voice of doom whispered one word: Dead. Had the Devil’s Triangle, that vast section of the Atlantic that had obsessed her father, finally destroyed him?

  Daddy. Daddy, where are you?

  She had been so absorbed in her thoughts that she hadn’t heard Will approach, hadn’t realized that he had followed her, until she felt his strong arms reach around her and pull her back against his chest. And it wasn’t until that moment, wrapped securely in his embrace, that Gwen knew how much she needed Will. How much she wanted him.

  In another place, at another time, where the world was right-side up and life had a logical order, she would not allow herself to succumb to purely physical attraction. But here, now, reality blurred with illusion, and left her vulnerable to the fear that her life had amounted to nothing, that she would die before having ever really lived.

  Absorbing Will’s warmth and strength, sensing that he had the power to make her feel alive in a way she so desperately needed, Gwen leaned her head back against his chest and crossed her arms over his where they held her at the waist. With her heartbeat drumming inside her head and her body pulsing with life, she sighed deeply. Will lowered his head and brushed his lips against her neck. She shivered. He nipped at her neck, then licked a moist trail up to her ear.

 

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