by Ashley Ladd
"Touchy, aren't you? Need a hand?” She thrust out her chest, making him wonder if she were aware of her action and if she was trying to drive him over the edge, or if she was just being Katie, wickedly sensual without even trying to.
"I've got it thanks,” he said through gritted teeth as he struggled to fit her to him.
"It might help, however, if you wouldn't stand in my light. How's the grub coming? What are we having tonight? Fish and fruit or fruit and fish?” Fish had never numbered among his favourite foods, but he'd managed to choke it down. Although he wouldn't tell her even if threatened with his life, she had the makings of a chef. She'd come up with some pretty creative ways to make a decent meal out of the little they had available. Grudging admiration gnawed at him.
She moved away and a fountain of light struck his back. “A couple of crabs wandered into my trap earlier and I found some turtle eggs. At least I think they're turtle eggs. I'll season them up and I think we'll have a little treat tonight."
Moving about the hut restlessly, she ran her hand along their new couch—the seats from the boat that he'd pushed together. “Pretty clever. A window.” Shaking her head, she tapped the glass that had once been the boat's windshield. “My favourite, though, is this skylight. I think you outdid yourself with this.” She tugged on the vine that lifted the roof to let the sunshine pour inside.
"We can watch the stars at night if we want.” He'd almost added, from their bed, but he stopped himself just in time, wondering where that thought had come from. He'd not meant anything by it, had he? Freud claimed that slips revealed true feelings and intent. Did he really want to get Katie in bed with him? She was a pretty luscious piece, and amazingly bright and fun to be with when she forgot to put that chip on her shoulder. But he was an engaged man who had a beautiful fiancée waiting for his return. Julia must be out of her mind.
"You're not half bad for a rich man."
Finished with his chore, he leaned back on his elbow and stared at her. “You ready yet to tell me what you have against rich men? We pull our pants on the same as everyone else."
Her lips twisted in a wry grimace. Sashaying those wanton hips of hers, she stopped over him, her fists planted on them, and she glared down at him. “Oh no you don't. You get your servants to do it for you. You're all spoiled to the core. You don't know what it's like to struggle to make ends meet. And worst of all...” Pausing, she sucked in a deep breath. “You think you're too good for everyone else. That no one's feelings matter except your own."
"What's the real reason?” When her eyes smouldered like they were now, they turned almost a midnight blue. She was even more breathtaking now than when she was wet and laughing. His groin hardened in response and he shifted his position to hide his reaction to her. Angry at himself for reacting to her, he cursed inwardly. This wasn't supposed to be happening. He was just horny and she was the only female in sight. It was just his rotten luck that she was a very beautiful, very sexy woman, and she ran around the island in her sports bra all the time. Any red blooded man would have the same reaction. It was just hormones.
"Did anyone ever tell you that you're incredibly nosy? My reasons are my own.” She turned away but not before he caught the sheen of tears welling in her eyes.
Protectiveness swelled up in him. He couldn't stand to see her in such pain. Standing, he turned her around gently and put his finger under her chin so that she had to look up at him. “Did that Sam guy hurt you that badly? Sometimes it helps to talk about it."
Veiling her eyes with her eyelashes, incredibly long and thick even without the aid of mascara, she shook her head. “He's not worth thinking about much less talking about."
Contrary to her words, however, she let out a long sigh, and began to spin her tale while he stood still, listening. “Sam and I were engaged to be married. I loved him more than life and I thought he loved me like that, too.” A snort escaped her lips.
Jealousy ripped through him, shocking him, and he pushed it away to deal with later. It galled him that he should have to deal with it at all. He was an engaged man with a fiancée waiting for him. “What happened?"
"His parents, his rich parents, chose a much more acceptable wife for him, a family friend that met their criteria for the perfect wife. She was wealthy, too. And she had natural blonde hair, not bleached like mine. She was college educated like him. Like you.” She held out a strand of her hair showing the dark roots that had grown out more than an inch since their arrival. She glared up at him as if he were partially to blame just because he'd attended college.
She gazed off into the distance, memories clouding her eyes. “I thought his mother was going to faint when she saw my tattoos and my nose stud.” Looking down, she touched the swell of her breast where her rose tattoo heaved with her every luscious breath.
It took everything in him not to reach out and trace those rose petals and the stem leading down her impressive cleavage, dipping under her bikini top. He forced his thoughts away from the rose and where the stem led. “Did she?” Huskiness filled his voice and he cursed himself for it. Shame flooded him. His mother would probably react the same way but he dare not tell Katie that in her present mood and he better not ever if he didn't want to lose a limb. Katie was very touchy.
"No. But his father threatened to disown and disinherit him if he didn't marry the other woman.” Leaning her head back, she choked back a sob. Blinking rapidly, she tried to hold in her moisture. Twin tears escaped from her eyes and slid down her cheeks.
"So he dumped you for her?” What a jerk. Didn't he know what a gold mine he'd thrown away? His hands itched to teach the man a lesson.
Bitter laughter escaped her lips. “Not immediately, no. At first, he told me he'd never leave me, that he wasn't going to buckle under to their bullying. He had an MBA—he didn't need their money or power, right?"
Lowering her chin, she gazed at him with such pain and disillusionment bruising her eyes, that it almost staggered him. “Yeah, right. But within a couple of months, he changed his tune, told me he fell in love with her and wanted to marry her. And I got dumped flat on my underprivileged ass."
"Katie.” Emotion, raw and ragged, tore at his voice. His heart broke for her. It was apparent she'd loved this other man deeply.
When he went to comfort her, she jerked back as if burned and presented her back to him. Dry sobs wracked her shoulders. With bitterness worthy of someone much older, much more world weary, she ordered sharply, “Don't touch me. You're engaged and I would never steal anyone's fiancé like she stole mine. Besides, I'm not in the same class as you. I'm not as good as you and I've learned my lesson."
Did she really believe that? “Stop it, Katie! Look around. There's no class structure here. We're just two people trying to survive. We're equals. We need each other if we're going to make it.” They'd always been equals. Here and back home. What a bunch of nonsense she'd been fed.
Turning around, she shot him a questioning look. “Do you really, truly feel that way?"
She dug a hole in the sand with her toe, and looked down, away from him. “That's easy to say here, when no one's pressuring you. When no one else is looking down their nose at you.” Lifting her face, she pierced him with a hard glare. “Can you honestly say you'd still feel this way if we get rescued? Would you still consider me to be your equal?"
Taking a chance that she wouldn't rebuff him again, he reached out and trailed a finger down her cheek and continued tracing her jaw line. Shudders stole through him at the contact. Why this woman affected him so strongly, he didn't know. He shouldn't be feeling this way. Julia trusted him as she should be able to do. She wore his ring and had his promise. “I always considered you my equal."
Suspicion blazed from her eyes. “Would your parents?"
Annoyance flickered. “I'm not my parents."
When she flinched and backed away, he cupped the other side of her face with his hand, and gazed intently into her eyes. “I like you. I'm not my parents. You're fu
n to joke around with. You have a quick wit. You're not half bad company, Katie McLaughlin. Since I have to be stranded on a deserted island, I'm glad it's with you."
She grunted, eyeing him suspiciously, and stepped back away from him. “I guess you're not half bad yourself for a Harvard man."
"Yale,” he corrected, trying not to grimace.
Then she shook a finger at him, and told him bluntly, “But that doesn't mean I'll fall into your ivy bed. You can't take liberties with me just because fate put us on the same deserted island. Even if wealth doesn't matter to you, you're an engaged man. Maybe you should build a separate hut for me. That way your fiancée won't have to take retribution on me if we ever get rescued."
Everything in him screamed no! He groped for some logical reason to keep her here in his hut, in his bed, not sure he understood why it was so important to him. “That wouldn't be safe. We need to stick together. I couldn't sleep at night, worrying that you're not safe.” How he kept his voice so normal, he had no clue, for he was a jumble of conflicting emotions.
She squared off against him. “You let me go off during the day. What's different about night?"
He wanted to quiet her curiosity and wondered if she detected or suspected his unwanted attraction to her? “You're not alert to danger at night. At least if we're together, we have a better chance of protection. I'm not going to change my mind about this."
She gazed up at the trees shading them from overhead. “Speaking of protection. Maybe we should have a tree house like Tarzan and Jane instead of being on the ground. Maybe a big one like Swiss Family Robinson had, with a pipe organ and curtains and stuff. That would afford more protection, wouldn't it?"
Well, tigers could climb and snakes could slither up tree branches, but it would stop an alligator or a wild boar. If it made her feel safer, he'd comply. “Good idea. We'll start on that tomorrow."
His stomach growled. “I'm starved. Where's the eats?"
* * * *
A bird squawked indignantly up ahead, putting up quite a ruckus.
"We caught one! Dinner's served.” Excitement bubbled in Katie's veins. “Grab some of those fruit.” She picked up an armload of fallen coconuts. She could fashion a marinade to make a Polynesian style dish. It'd be a vast improvement over last night's sushi. Despite the rage, she wasn't fond of raw fish.
"Caught what?” He followed her at a rapid pace. His expression awe-struck, he said, “It's a peacock."
"It worked. It really worked.” Elated, she hugged him, laughing joyously.
Electricity flared between them and he tensed.
Shocked, appalled at her reaction, she quickly stepped back from him, lowering her eyelashes. She pointed at the bird. “Will you do the honours? I'll prepare the fruits and check the other trap.” Together, between their scouting experiences they had figured out to construct rough traps.
"Check the fishing lines while you're there."
The monkey seemed content to ride on her shoulder, scratching his head, and babbling in his monkey gibberish.
Glancing at him, she said, “I've gotta call you something beside monkey. Guess you can be Robinson Crusoe or Gilligan."
At the mention of Gilligan, the animal eked and hid its face in his hands.
A chuckle rose to her lips. She rubbed the adorable creature's head. “Okay. Okay. I won't call you Gilligan. Do you like Friday?"
The monkey, her constant companion, chattered animatedly, its tail flicking up and down. His bright eyes twinkled at her and he grinned widely.
"Friday it is."
"Friday?” Scott had crept up on her and she jumped, startled.
To hide her discomfiture, she quipped, “Would you prefer Terminator? Or Wilson?"
"Friday's fine.” He reached over and rubbed the primate under his chin and they amused themselves for the next few minutes making funny faces at one another.
Dinner tasted wonderful, topped off by coconut milk. Sleepiness overtook her once her belly was full, and she yawned.
"I'll see about making a tree house or putting it up on stilts tomorrow."
She nodded, sucking on a sweet berry she'd popped into her mouth. “Not bad. I guess you're pretty good with your hands after all.” Under her breath, she added, “For a rich man."
"I heard that, city girl.” After a strategic pause, he added, “You make a pretty mean gourmet meal yourself. That was a nice touch with dinner."
Friday scampered down, chattered at them incessantly, turned tail and disappeared into the dark jungle. They could hear him long after he'd been swallowed up by the jungle.
"Come back!” She started to follow but Scott caught her hand, holding her back.
"Let him go. He needs his freedom. He might have a family out there."
He pulled her to the hut, and ushered her inside. “Get some sleep, Katydids. We have a big day tomorrow."
"It'll need to be sturdier if it's going to be a tree house.” She lowered herself to the ground, stretching out, careful not to touch him, even though her nerves screamed for her to. Moonlight bathed them through the skylight. A blanket of twinkling stars mesmerised her. “Don't you think we'll get rescued? Didn't you send a May Day or an SOS or something before we crashed?"
"Of course the captain did, but this island isn't on any chart I've ever seen. He wasn't sure of our position since the instruments were whacked out. Just in case it takes awhile till they locate us, it won't hurt to hedge our bets.” He shifted around beside her, bumping into her back. “Go to sleep. Forget about this place for a few hours."
"Aren't you worried about her?” Wishing she had someone to worry about, and to worry about her, she stared at the moon. Sam sure wouldn't miss her. No one would really miss her. Maybe her boss and her students at the karate studio might wonder why she didn't return from vacation. They'd probably think she'd eloped with her rich boyfriend and quit without notice. They wouldn't raise any alarms on her behalf.
"Julia?” His voice softened. He rolled over, propping his head on his hand and regarded her somberly. “I imagine she'll be sick with worry. And my parents. But the search teams should find us soon and get us home. What about you?"
A tear trickled down her cheek and she sniffed, dabbing at her nose with her fingers. How she wished she had tissue. And a pillow to rest her weary head. Looking away from him, she said, “My mother died when I was three. I barely remember her. That leaves me and Dad and a whole string of his girlfriends. He was drunk most of the time and I've been on my own since I was seventeen. We talk occasionally, but he won't miss me for quite a while. No biggie.” She lied, swallowing hard as she tried to get comfortable, resting her head on her bent arm.
Warm breath tickled the back of her neck. “That's tough."
* * * *
The arms around her felt so good, so warm and strong, that Katie fought waking up. She buried her face against the protective shoulder that blocked out the sunlight streaming into their hut.
Hut? Arms? Shoulders?
She awoke with a start, stunned to find herself burrowed against Scott's warmth, her head tucked under his chin, cosy and comfy as if she belonged there.
She did not belong there. She did not want to be there.
Most of all, she shouldn't be there. He was engaged and as one recently jilted woman, she had no desire or intention of hurting anyone else with the same pain with which she'd been inflicted. Flirting with an engaged man, was taboo. It was unthinkable. Not that she was attracted to him. Not really. Circumstances kept throwing them together. Their aloneness here created false intimacy and comradeship.
She liked her men dark and swarthy, like Sam. Intensely dark eyes could pierce her to her soul. And Scott couldn't get any blonder if he tried.
Embarrassed to be in such a precarious position with such dangerous thoughts, she eased herself out of his arms, hoping he wouldn't know she'd been in his arms. The knowledge would probably make him insufferable. He already held too high an opinion of himself, not that she could thoro
ughly fault him—all wealthy men of her acquaintance suffered from the same malady. That's why she'd sworn off rich men after Sam's desertion. Being burned once was more than enough.
She must to insist on a room of her own when they improved the hut. Sleeping in the same quarters was too dangerous to her tender feelings. The longer they were marooned, the better he'd probably start looking to her. He was after all, young, and virile, and had an endearing dimple in his chin. And she was female, prone to a woman's yearnings and instincts and she'd not been with a man in well over a month. She'd have to guard against these inklings of attraction. They couldn't be true attraction, she told herself. It was just a natural reaction of a lonely, scared woman to the only male in sight. Once they were rescued, she'd never see him again. Even if she wanted to be with him, he'd rush back into his fiancée's arms.
No good. She could not, would not, put herself into another situation where she was set up to fail. The rich always won and the poor always lost. She didn't like it, but she was logical and realistic, and knew the score.
Her stomach rumbled so she untied the door and trekked down to the beach, curling her toes into the wet sand. White capped waves reached out to grab her, spraying seawater in her face. Graceful white birds sailed several feet overhead, looking for their morning meal, too. A bright yellow and orange sun shimmered upon the horizon like a sorbet.
Bowled over by the beauty of the new day, she sat at the edge of a miniature sand-shaped cliff where waves had eroded the shore, and took a few quiet moments to commune with nature. Resting her chin on her hand, she revelled in the beauty all around her.
"Breathtaking, isn't it?” Scott lowered his bulk next to her, stretching out his long legs before him. She'd never really looked closely at his legs before and was surprised by how hairy they were. Like the rest of him, they were covered in very blond hair that wasn't easily discernible from a distance. She also noticed how well-muscled they were.
She realised he was staring at her, grinning, and she felt a blush rise in her cheeks. Maybe he thought she was staring elsewhere, perhaps somewhere a little higher. Clearing her throat, she said, trying to get her thoughts under control, “It's okay if you don't get bored with sun and water and sand all day I suppose.