Three Days, Two Nights

by MJ Fredrick

  Oh. Wow. Tess leaned forward in her seat in the plane and watched the bunching of Nat’s muscles under the drenched T-shirt as he hauled a stone as big as her suitcase over to the plane. Wow. He had definitely improved there, and he’d been in excellent shape before. What was his motivation? Did he have a woman, someone who appreciated all that hardness?

  He met her gaze through the window and she sat back, as if that would disguise the fact that she’d been ogling him. He motioned her out of the plane. She pushed open the door and hopped down into the sand, toes curling into the damp sand to catch her balance.

  “I need you to help me lift the plane so I can put this under it.”

  She stared. “You’ve clearly mistaken me for the Incredible Hulk.”

  The familiar charming grin flashed as he glanced at her legs. “No. Never that. It’s not as heavy as it looks.”

  “It’s a plane.”

  “Yep. Come here.” He led her to the side of the plane and braced his hands on either side of the wing.

  His sleeve rode up, revealing an armband tattoo that hadn’t been there before. She was not the kind to get turned on by tattoos, normally, but this one, on the hard-muscled arm of the man she’d once loved, the man she was stuck here with—dangerous. Too dangerous.

  She dragged her gaze away from the flex of his muscles and turned her attention to the wing. She’d certainly never realized how narrow the wings were—no wonder they couldn’t keep the plane aloft in that storm. With no seeming effort, he angled the plane up so the body lifted off of the broken strut.

  “Hold it like this,” he instructed, shuffling back so she could step in front of him.

  She did, feeling the heat from his body as she fit into the small space, smelling his familiar scent, layered with rain. She’d noticed he smelled the same when they were in that tiny plane together. Of course he wouldn’t change his soap and shampoo just because they split up. For a moment, she let herself wonder if another woman bought them for him now, if he’d crawled out of another woman’s bed this morning, if she was waiting for him to come home, to welcome him with open arms. Jealousy flared hot and unfamiliar—and ridiculous. She was the one who left. He had every right to get on with his life.

  She jumped when he closed his fingers firmly around her wrists, the callused tips brushing the tender skin, and braced her hands against the wing, his arms along the length of hers, his chest brushing her shoulder blades.

  “Got it?” he asked, his breath hot against the back of her neck.

  “I think.”

  “Lock your elbows,” he said, and let go.

  Okay, it wasn’t as heavy as she expected, but it certainly wasn’t light. She was aware of him watching her, making sure she had a grip.

  “Hurry up,” she said through her teeth.

  He flashed a grin—she hadn’t seen that in a while. She’d forgotten the way it could make her tummy tighten and heat rush between her legs. Of course her hormones wouldn’t remember how he’d hurt her, only how good he’d made her feel.

  She strained to watch him adjust the rock under the broken strut, tossing the broken wheel aside. She couldn’t see any more detail on the tattoo, and now could think of nothing else. He straightened, inspecting his handiwork.

  “Let’s see if it holds,” he said, coming back to the wing.

  This time he faced her as he placed his hands beside hers. She thought about refusing to meet his eyes, but that might be more revealing than returning his gaze, so she did, daring him to—well, she didn’t know what. To see the lingering attraction? She covered it with a withering glance when she saw a flash of amusement in his gorgeous gray eyes. Damn him. Why could he read her so well now when he hadn’t been able to last year?

  “You can let go. I’m going to set her down easy.”

  She put some distance between them as soon as she could. Not too much—she didn’t want him to think she was running away.

  He lowered his arms and inspected the broken strut sitting on the rock, then grunted. “We’re going to need to find a way to make shelter. Another storm may be on its way.” He nodded to the sky to the north, where dark clouds gathered.

  She hadn’t even noticed, and a shiver ran through her. She wasn’t a great outdoors person, and she was still cold from the last drenching.

  “What do you mean, shelter? Can’t we use the plane as shelter?”

  He shook his head. “Too much movement would dislodge the strut, and maybe cause more damage to the wing.”

  “So it’s still flyable?” Hope bubbled in her chest.

  “Uh-uh. Can’t take off without a wheel, can’t reattach the wheel without heavy duty welding equipment, which I don’t exactly carry with me.” He walked to the door of the plane. “Let’s see what we have in here that we can use.”

  “How about the radio?”

  “I sent out a distress call. I also turned on the beacon as we went down. But if that storm is bad enough, we can’t count on anyone coming after us tonight.”

  Despair nearly dropped her where she stood. She had to spend the night out here with him? In the wilderness? Alone and swamped by memories of what they’d been? “Maybe this island’s bigger than we think. Maybe there’s a hotel just around the bend there.” She motioned down the beach. “If we start walking now—”

  The sound of a zipper sent her spinning and she saw that he’d pulled her suitcase to the door of the plane and opened it. She strode across the sand toward him.

  “What do we have here?” His voice was thick with amusement as he pulled out her very realistic looking vibrator.

  “I never thought I’d see you with a dick in your hand,” she taunted, reaching to snatch it from him, mortified.

  He held it just out of her reach, flicking it on and watching it undulate, fascinated. “Never seen one of these in real life.” He looked past it to her, gray eyes glinting. “Planning some fun this weekend?”

  She grabbed the vibrator out of his hand and shut it off. No doubt he’d reason out that the last cock inside her had been his. She didn’t want him to have that kind of power.

  “Does it have a name? I heard women name their vibrators.”

  Matt. But not because it rhymed with Nat. “No.”

  “I kind of thought a woman like you would have a sleeker one, you know, pink or purple and shiny. That one’s a little—earthy. And largish.”

  A woman like her? What did he mean by that? And she was earthy—down-to-earth, anyway, or at least she had been when they were together. He’d liked that about her, her lack of pretense, her free spirit. That woman would have never had a shiny vibrator. Did he think she’d changed so much?

  She would not allow him to bait her. She tried to nudge him aside to get to her suitcase, but he stood fast, facing the suitcase, feet planted in the sand, broad shoulders blocking her.

  “Anything else in here? Ah, lube—that comes in handy, I suppose. And wipes. And—what’s this?” He held up her silver bullet. His brow arched as he looked at her.

  She wanted to sink into the sand. He was seeing too much of what she’d learned to keep hidden. She had no defenses against him—never had.

  He shifted to face her. “I never thought you’d replace me with toys, Tess.”

  “I’m not replacing you.” She grabbed the bullet and tucked both it and Matt away in her suitcase.

  She was uncomfortably aware that Nat watched her as she zipped her bag, her face tight, her skin hot with embarrassment. She’d forgotten how he loved to aggravate her every chance he’d get, just to make her blush.

  She had to redirect the conversation or lose herself in memories. “I don’t know why you thought you’d find anything for shelter in my suitcase. It’s not like I carry tarps around with me.”

  “Maybe a muumuu,” he teased.

  She glared, slammed the suitcase and flounced off.

  The thing about using an inflatable life raft from the back of the plane for shelter was that it wasn’t exactly roomy. This mi
ght have served Nat’s purpose better if Tess hadn’t scooted as far as she possibly could away from him, her legs drawn up and her arms wrapped around them.

  She’d braved the cover of the trees long enough to change out of the lemon-colored suit, into a sleeveless bright pink top and tan shorts. These would be no more practical if they were going to get wet, but he didn’t say anything. Even in her casual wear she looked so wound up and distant, like such a stranger, he was tempted to rethink his plan. Not that he could do anything about it—the sat phone was damaged, and no one had responded to his latest round of distress calls on the radio. This might not be the seduction he had planned, but it was the only chance he was going to get. He might as well enjoy the sight of her long, smooth, tan legs.

  She used to dress like this all the time when he first met her. She’d been eighteen years old, a college freshman, and he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her. She’d been in his political science class and he hadn’t learned a damn thing, watching her instead of listening to the lectures. They’d encountered each other at the library, both after the same article for class. He’d teasingly suggested they share it. She’d agreed, the first time he saw that gorgeous blush.

  He hadn’t slept with her for weeks afterwards, building up the anticipation with long, exploring kisses, teasing touches, sexy phone calls, until they’d been frantic for each other. He would never forget the first time he plunged into her body, felt her clench around him, watched her face tense, then soften in pleasure. Jesus, he thought he’d never have enough of her.

  The wind kicked up, blowing sand toward them, bringing him back to the present. She ducked her head to her knees to shield her eyes. He looked at the sky, but the darkest of the clouds seemed to be moving away from them.

  “We may have lucked out on the rain,” he said, just as the sky opened up and rain splattered on the tarp, splashed up from the ground to dot them with sand pellets.

  Tess glared, and then, to his surprise, burst out laughing. Christ, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard that sound. His fault—there hadn’t been much laughter in that little house the last months of their marriage. His stomach clenched at the memory. He should have known. He should have acted then, done whatever it took to make her happy instead of letting her walk away. The sound was so contagious he couldn’t help but smile, though he was pretty sure she was laughing at him.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked when she settled into a smile.

  She pushed her hair back from her face. “What’s so funny? I’m stuck on a deserted island with my ex when I’m supposed to be having the time of my life at an island resort. You know, a place with showers and plumbing and food? I’m supposed to be with people I like.”

  Ouch. That hurt. But it was well deserved. His shoulders, which had relaxed when she started laughing, tensed again. Maybe it was too late to make up for letting her go, for not going after her after she’d left, for driving her away. He had to take advantage of the time he had—until someone answered their emergency beacon—to turn everything around.

  She braced her hands behind her on the sand. “I think we should walk and see if we can find something. Maybe this is Johnny Depp’s island, you know, and people will be patrolling the beach keeping paparazzi away. They’d be more than happy to get us off here.”

  “All right. Soon as the rain stops.” He looked at her feet, narrow in her strappy sandals. “You have anything more suitable for walking?”

  “I didn’t plan on doing any hiking.”

  “No workout shoes?”

  “Thongs, only.”

  He lifted his head and grinned.

  A hint of blush colored her cheeks. “Not that kind, you idiot.”

  “I bet you have that kind too, you just don’t want me to know. You used to wear them.”

  “You’re not supposed to remember that.” She stood and brushed off her shorts.

  “Why not? Your ass was always great.”

  “You’re only supposed to remember the bad stuff.”

  He cocked his head at her. “Is that what you do?”

  She turned away. “I try not to remember any of it. Should we go east or west first?”

  The woman did know how to shoot him down. He stood, needing some distance before he pushed her too far. “Rain’s letting up. Let’s go.”

  Chapter Three

  “How hard will it be for them to find us?”

  They’d walked maybe a mile down the beach in silence. God, why couldn’t she think of one thing to say to this man she’d known since she was eighteen? And why was he looking at her like that? She’d purposely changed into her most prim outfit, and he was looking at her as if imagining her in a thong, or less. How could he still want her after she’d left him? Sure, the sex had always been outstanding, but there remained all those other emotions—betrayal, anger, disappointment.

  He looked good, though, and was more relaxed, more the boy she’d fallen in love with, not the military man he’d become. What had changed him when she couldn’t?

  When he didn’t answer right away, she continued, “I wouldn’t think there are many places to look. I mean, this isn’t like the South Pacific, covered in islands.”

  “Enough that movie stars can have one all to themselves,” he reminded her. He took a bottle of water from his pack and offered it to her. She took it, and her fingertips brushed his. Just that simple touch brought back a rush of memories she’d buried, all the good things they’d shared, tender moments, romantic ones.

  She turned away to drink so he wouldn’t see her reaction.

  “So this resort you were going to. What were you going to do there?”

  “I’m sure you’ve chartered people there and back before.”

  “None who are willing to tell me what they’re doing there.”

  “I see.” He was the hired help, not as respected as he’d been in the military. How did he like that? He’d been so determined to be respected, unlike the rest of his family, and that drive had drawn her to him in college. Then he’d let it take him too far. She shoved aside the pain and addressed his question.

  “I think there were a number of team-building exercises, but we were to have time on our own to enjoy the beach—supposedly sand like sugar—and to play in the pool, or go sailing. They have spa activities, too.”

  “And you like those?”

  A smile quirked her lips and she looked sideways at him. “Have you ever known me to sit still for that long?”

  He chuckled. “Nope. So you were looking forward to the trip?”

  “Some parts more than others.”

  “The alone time?”

  “No, I get plenty of that.”

  He stiffened. “Someone special you planned to spend time with?”

  Her honesty would only take her so far. It would be best to have a barrier, to reduce the tension. “Yes.” He didn’t have to know it was her best friend Kate.

  They walked along in silence for a bit. She sensed him shutting off from her. Good. That was what she wanted.

  “What’s that up there?” He pointed down the beach, where it seemed some of the growth from the jungle extended onto the beach. He trotted ahead, then turned back and grinned. “A creek. Fresh water.” He pointed into the jungle. “Back there.”

  She slipped on her sandals, but looked at the jungle warily. “Do we have to?”

  “This water here isn’t as fresh, this close to the ocean.” He motioned to the incoming waves. “The freshest will be at the source.”

  “I’ll wait here.”

  “Oh, no. I’m not leaving you here for Johnny Depp’s security guards to find you on your own,” he teased, but concern laced his tone. “I don’t know how long I’ll be. You’d better come with me. I won’t let any snakes get you.” He closed his hand around her arm and guided her into the shadows.

  The temperature instantly dropped as they moved inland. She hadn’t realized how hot she was until she took a breath in relief. He dropped h
er arm and walked ahead. Panic prompted her to run up behind him. Waiting on the beach was one thing, but getting stranded in the jungle, with all the possible creepy-crawlies, was another. He glanced back at her when she touched his shoulder.

  “Worried I’m going to leave you?”

  She wondered at the possible double meaning behind his words and she straightened. “Can’t exactly keep the snakes away from up here.”

  She found herself watching the play of his muscles beneath the wet T-shirt, and yanked her gaze away to follow the narrow brook running over moss-covered stones. The water didn’t look deep at all. It would probably cool her feet, too.

  Ahead of her, Nat stopped and she bumped into him.

  “What?” she asked before looking over his shoulder, then stepping around to stand beside him, breathless at the sight of the waterfall tumbling over larger moss-covered rocks into a clear pool below. “Oh. Oh.”

  “Your resort have anything like this?” He stripped off his shirt, then let it drop to the ground beside her.

  She stared. “What are you doing?”

  A quick grin flashed across his face. “Going for a swim.”

  “You don’t know what’s in there.”

  He drew her to the edge, his hand on her arm. “Look there. You can see the bottom.”

  She cast a nervous glance at the pool. “You don’t think it’s dangerous?”

  “No.” He reached a hand out and waited. Indecision made her hesitate as she studied the depth and the flitting fishes in the water. “If you think it’s safe.”

  He drew in a breath when her hands moved to the buttons of her blouse, and she turned away, an unfamiliar tension running through her. She hadn’t thought twice about undressing in front of him until she saw the heat in his eyes. At least she wore her bathing suit underneath.

  She draped her top and shorts over a nearby bush and heard his groan when she bent over to unhook her sandals. When she turned back, he dove into the water, his form perfect, barely causing a ripple.

  She sat on the rock beside the boots he’d left and watched as he surfaced, shaking water out of his hair.