Desire in the Everglades

by Hoff, Stacy

  “Cheers,” Stephanie said lamely. She clinked her glass against his, wondering if Colin would be the primary predator she needed to fear.

  Colin sat down on his bed at the Carlyle, his hand rubbing the softest fabrics he had ever felt. He looked out the open doors of his balcony to see Manhattan’s skyline all lit up. Besides offering a breathtaking view, the room offered stunning elegance. It was quite a large space, including a formal sitting area. How nice. If the Queen of England flew over to discuss guest starring on his survival show, he could entertain her properly.

  Why had Teleworld paid for all this extravagance? He didn’t need glitzy glamour. Give him a tent and a cot and he was good to go.

  Still, he had to admit, being in this room was way better than freezing his ass off on some godforsaken mountain in the middle of Afghanistan. Teleworld was certainly letting him live the high life. He should enjoy it while he could. Soon he’d be roughing it again, in a place just as dangerous as any of his past battlefields.

  Being attacked by a human enemy—bad.

  Being attacked by an alligator—worse.

  Alligators were huge, heavy, and completely fearless. He’d just have to keep his guard, and focus, up.

  Could he? Just this one last time, could he keep his focus? He wasn’t making it easy on himself. Coaxing Stephanie down to Florida was not one of his better ideas. Was it? On the plus side, he liked her—a downright enjoyable feeling he hadn’t experienced in ages. On the minus side, if they truly hit it off before his odyssey began, he’d spend the entire time preoccupied. A true hazard for the survivalist.

  Hoisting himself up, he reached overhead to turn off the high headboard lamp. Then plopped back down in bed and swung himself under the covers. Damn it, she really had looked good in that purple dress. But even her nice body was not nearly as attractive as her as a whole. He had enjoyed talking to her. In addition to all her other good qualities, she was smart. Accomplished. Kind. Had a sense of adventure. Gave him a challenge.

  Maybe she wasn’t attracted to him. That would be good. And if she was, she wouldn’t be for long. He hardly thought his “save the farm” story would be remotely enticing to her. Could she, being from the big city, even understand who he really was deep down? He cringed. The Farmer and the Corporate Queen. Great. Just Great.

  He tossed restlessly under the fresh, ultra-soft sheets of the Carlyle. He’d have to shake thoughts of Stephanie off. They’d prevent sleeping tonight, just like they’d prevent him from winning his survival challenge in a few weeks’ time. He shook his head hard, a physical action to help clear his mind. Focus, Colin.

  Chapter 4

  That night, after hours of watching reruns on TV, Stephanie finally fell into a deep sleep. A dream engulfed her, stranger than ever before. In her dream, the bed was odd—the mattress comprised of dirt and weeds. Fabric walls bowed out as if khaki-colored canvas billowed from the wind. There was no wind, however. Just humidity, and a temperature that felt way over a hundred degrees. Her dream-self panted from the heat and looked for a window, finding none.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed movement on the ceiling. It had a two-dimensional bright blue sky with clouds moving slowly across, traversing the room from right to left. Their fluffy whiteness turned an ominous gray once they reached the left side. Thunder rumbled low and steady above the room’s doorframe. She ran to the right side of the room and crouched down, drawing some of the wall’s canvas over her for protection from the imminent rain. The entire ceiling was now all black, and a loud boom from a storm cloud burst forth. Panic surged within her. She reached out into thin air, hoping against hope to hang onto something.

  But something grabbed on to her. She stifled a scream and made out the hazy image of the man before her. Larger than life. Rugged. Eyes as blue as the sky-ceiling had been moments before the storm. Colin. He sat in front of her, calm amid the chaos. He managed to make her calm, too. Made her forget her fears. Made her forget her moment alone in the storm. He smiled at her, and her face flushed with heat.

  Humidity magically disappeared. Glistening sweat evaporated from her skin. Yet the room still sweltered. The source of the heat was him. He was making her hot.

  “You have nothing to be afraid of,” he said to her. His eyes were kind, as if he meant his reassuring words.

  It was possible, however, he wasn’t aware of all of the dangers to which she was exposed. “What if I’m afraid of you?” she asked, her voice trembling.

  “What if I’m afraid of you?” he teased. He reached out to touch her, taking her into his arms.

  She melted into his fierce kiss. The powerful effect was holistic, her two selves fused back together into one. All of her being was now being awakened by his kiss. The flash of heat within her surged again.

  The storm above was now surging, too. The booming thunder took on a metallic, hip-hop tone. Almost like a tinny version of a Flo Rida song. Yes, it was. She heard the storm clearly belting out the lyrics to “Right Round.” What the hell?

  Stephanie woke up, shot out of bed, and turned on the night table’s lamp. Pushing off the duvet in an effort to quickly get to her iPhone, she shoved her hand deep into her purse, thankfully only a foot away. Picking up her phone, she saw she had one missed call from Mark. He had sent her a text, too.

  Giving herself a moment to get her heart to stop pounding, she finally touched the message to read it. Colin texted he’ll be on the show! Lawyers say final contract won’t be ready until next week, but they’ll have him sign a preliminary MOU tomorrow. Knew we could count on you to seal the deal. Way to go!

  Putting down the iPhone, she let out a soft sigh. Never put it past Mark to pimp her out. But hadn’t Mark’s tactic been right? It was her promising to go down to Florida that had sealed the deal for Colin. Once she went and spent time with him, that might seal the deal for her, too. Not good. She frowned and turned the light back off, hoping the rest of her night would be dreamless.

  Colin gratefully slumped his backpack and duffle bag down on the floor next to the airline’s ticketing/check-in counter. Dozens of people were in line behind him. Thousands seemed to be crowding the domestic flights terminal. Who knows, maybe they were all heading for this line, too. “It’s a zoo here today,” Colin commented to the bald man behind the counter, who was dressed sailor-style in a navy and white jacket.

  “Yes, it is, sir. Sorry for the inconvenience,” the man responded. “You are in seat 10D.”

  “Would you mind telling me the name of the people sitting next to me? I’m traveling with a group and want to be sure I’m sitting with them.”

  “Certainly, sir. I see you’re traveling with the Teleworld group. Is that correct?”

  “Yep.”

  “This group’s seats are all in Business Class. The seating arrangement here is quite spacious, so there’s only one seat next to you.”

  “Can you tell me if that person is Stephanie Lang? I’m supposed to be seated next to her.”

  Pushing his half-moon glasses up to the bridge of his nose, the man looked at his computer screen. “No, the person seated next to you is Mr. James Warde.” The man typed quickly and then looked up at Colin. “But we do have a Ms. Stephanie Lang registered as part of your group. She’s seated diagonal from you, one row up.”

  Colin rummaged around in his pocket and felt around for the crumpled up fifty-dollar bill he’d shoved in earlier. “Can you make a seating change, switching Mr. Warde’s seat for Ms. Lang’s?” Colin asked. “There’s definitely been a mistake, and I’d hate to keep all these people waiting . . .” He pointed to the long line of people behind him.

  Colin saw the man turn his head and eye the line with alarm. It must have grown twice the size since Colin approached the counter. “Well, I don’t know if I can do that without their permission—”

  “I totally
understand. Maybe the manager can help me? I’ll just wait here while you get him. Take your time.”

  The man behind the counter snuck a glance at the growing line and sighed. “I’m the only one back here right now. If you’ll vouch for your group that the seating change is all right with them—”

  “Oh, I’ll vouch, all right.” Colin smiled, releasing the fifty from his grip and letting the bill nestle back into the depths of his pocket.

  Mission accomplished. And he didn’t even need to spend a dime. Damn. Still got it!

  Stephanie bit back a groan. The Teleworld team was notoriously late. Why she’d even agreed to share the limo with the location crew, she didn’t know. They had just barely made it to the gate, rushing up at the last boarding call. Her carry-on bag teetered precariously as it rolled behind her. With one last hard pull, her luggage banged over the threshold of the makeshift corridor connecting the gate to the plane.

  Heart still pounding from stress, she rolled her carry-on down the plane’s narrow aisle.

  “Welcome on board, Ms.,” said a bright-eyed female flight attendant.

  “Thanks.” Stephanie walked into First Class, amidst a sea of beige leather. She looked around at the seat numbers.

  “Need a hand?” the flight attendant asked.

  Stephanie silently handed her the ticket.

  “You’re in Business Class, Ms. Lang. Go right through the curtains to the next section.”

  “Thanks again.” Tugging her luggage behind her with one hand, she tucked her ticket back into her purse, then parted the next curtain. The seats back here were fabric instead of leather, but spaced comfortably. Only two seats comprised the side aisles, with three seats for the middle aisle. Eyes focused upwards, she read the seat numbers labeled on the overhead bins. Row 8. Row 9. Row 10. Yea, here’s my row! Seat B. Seat C. Hey, this is great, I get one of the side aisles. It’s seriously so much better to be near a window. Oh dear God—

  “Stephanie! Looks like we’re seated together. How nice.”

  “Hello, Colin. I didn’t expect to be—”

  “Seated next to me? Why not? It’s not like Business Class is all that big,” he answered, gesturing around him nonchalantly.

  “Yes, yes, of course. I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s nice to see you again,” she said, as Colin got up to hoist her carry-on into the overhead bin. He picked it up with such ease, it could have weighed five pounds instead of fifty. “Thanks,” she said, trying to ignore the way his muscles moved beneath the cuff of his camo print tee shirt.

  A minute later, he sat back down and she was settled beside him, in a space by themselves. He was seated by the window, the sunlight making his blond hair appear gold. He played with his smartphone while she gazed out at the tarmac.

  Being seated next to him was surprisingly comfortable. Strangely exciting. Awkwardly sexual. She felt a “zing” every time their shoulders brushed against each other. Every time they touched hands, reaching for the armrest in between them.

  She barely heard the flight attendant’s safety instructions or saw the accompanying video. She only noticed “zinging” sensations shooting through her. It was electrifying, strumming through her body like an over-stretched wire.

  “Do you always wear a suit on a plane?” he teased.

  “This isn’t a suit. It’s a twin-set with coordinating skirt.”

  “Thanks for the correction. My assessment was really far off. Twin set. Not a suit. Got it.”

  She could tell he was holding back laughter. Not too well, either.

  “Ready for our little adventure?” he asked with a wide grin.

  “Absolutely, Croc Man. Bring it on.”

  His tenuous grip on his composure was obviously slipping, and he let out a sharp laugh. “Croc Man? Thanks for the new name. It’s much more manly than ‘Colin.’”

  The pilot’s voice came through the speakers, interrupting them. “Flight attendants, please prepare for take off.”

  Moments later the engines whirred and the tarmac became a black blur.

  Hating this part, she wrapped her hands tightly around the ends of the armrests. At once her temples throbbed and her stomach flopped.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Um, sure.”

  “Then why are your knuckles white?”

  Without waiting for an answer, he pried her fingers off the middle armrest and placed her hand firmly in his.

  Oh!

  His hand felt warm, like liquid heat. But holding it, despite feeling wonderful, was too intimate. Reluctantly, she gave her hand a little tug.

  Looking straight into her eyes, he resisted. “Let me do this,” he said softly. “Something’s wrong. Are you afraid of flying?” He suddenly grinned again. “Or afraid to be seated next to me? I don’t bite.”

  Giving herself a mental slap, she shook off her fantasy. It’s not like they were dating and alone in a hotel room. They were not dating, and they were in a public plane. A plane. “Take-off is when all the accidents happen,” she said, sighing. “I know, I know, nothing bad is going to happen. But I’ve always been a little afraid of flying.”

  “Why?”

  “When I was seven years old, my parents took me and my brothers on a trip to California. We were taking a small hop flight from San Francisco to Lake Tahoe. It was a tiny little plane and there was talk about storms moving in fast. Turbulence was bad from the moment we were off the ground. The whole plane shook so hard I thought it was going to break apart. The pilot told everyone to stay seated and strapped in. A few minutes later, it touched back down at SFO. The experience stayed with me, I guess.” She felt her cheeks flush. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to babble on.”

  “You’re not babbling. I understand what happened was scary for a seven-year-old. I’d find it a scary experience even at my age.”

  “But you’re a Marine.”

  “Yeah, well, trust me. We don’t like thinking our plane might go down.”

  “I thought you guys were supposed to be fearless.”

  “No, we’re supposed to get our mission done despite our fear. Everybody has fear. You just can’t let it paralyze you.”

  She thought suddenly about her own life. Had being jilted by her fiancé made her fearful? Afraid of being rejected? By people she cared about? By people she trusted? Feeling a sudden sharp pain on the inside of her upper lip, she realized she had bitten herself. Ow!

  “You’re here on the plane despite your fear,” he continued. “That means you’re strong enough to move forward despite what you’re feeling.” Colin’s thumb gently circled the back of her hand. “It’ll be okay,” he said softly.

  Whether he was right remained to be seen. But he was sweet enough to give her those reassuring words. They felt, for many reasons, as welcoming as a warm blanket during the middle of winter. She nodded and gave him a weak smile. “Thanks,” she said softly.

  Chapter 5

  Ironically, standing in the middle of a damned swamp was the best thing she had going for her right now. Her trip was tanking. Big time. And, after what she did last night with Colin at the hotel, how awkward would it be seeing him this morning? Pretty freakin’ awkward.

  Not that having him go AWOL was comforting, either. Waiting for him to show up sucked. It must be two million degrees here in the Everglades. Not including humidity, which only made the heat seem worse. The crew was getting cranky. And yet here they all were, in a swamp, waiting around for him. She wiped sweat off her brow to no avail. Watery trails dripped from her forehead. They merged into larger rivulets that coursed down her neck into her cleavage. Her tee shirt and bra would be literally soaked in a matter of minutes. But it was her memory—or rather, lack of memory—that was really making her sweat.

  She could hardly blame him if things went a little far. She had
done everything short of sticking her hands down his pants. Or maybe she did that, too. Damn. Her recollection of last night was as hazy as the morning’s weather. Hopefully, she hadn’t done anything too stupid.

  She’d “worked it,” putting on eye shadow and a low cut tee shirt. Paired it with white Daisy Duke shorts, worn with wedge-cut sandals she’d hoped made her appear even taller and slimmer. She had the vague recollection the outfit had worked—that he had responded. And a stronger recollection that after the location team left them alone at the bar, she had really come on to him.

  Why the hell had she drunk that much, anyway? What was she trying to prove? And to whom? That she could keep up with the best of them? How dumb was that? She shifted uncomfortably and let out a quiet sigh. Obviously she still had self-esteem issues she needed to work out.

  Pulling out a newspaper from one of the camera bags, she spread it out on a large rock and gingerly sat down. Closing her eyes and relaxing her body made it easier to zone out. Reluctantly she tried to remember last night. But the memories that came back were not of what happened. Just the feel of his soft, smooth skin. His rock hard muscles. His lovely mouth.

  God, what this man was doing to her judgment was not good. The fact that she and Colin did whatever they wound up doing last night was proof. If only she could remember. Double damn.

  Her one area of total confidence had been her job. But now she felt shaken there, too. She wondered if the location crew questioned her choice of yesterday’s tiny outfit at the bar. Would they now question her decision-making skills holistically? Generally, the crew was pretty relaxed and not judgmental, and last night’s weather was hot enough that the outfit could be justified. Hopefully.