Pirateless in the Caribbean

by Jill Jaynes

  "What's the problem?" Stephanie stepped up beside him. "I thought you said you knew where this place was."

  Rick gazed at the two trails disappearing into the brush. "I usually get there by boat, actually. But I've taken the land route a few times." It had been a while since he'd hiked out to the little cabin, but he had remembered the path being a fairly obvious one. "There used to be a sign that marked the turn-off, but I haven't seen it yet." Had he missed it? No trace of a sign here, that was for sure.

  Stephanie smacked her hand at a spot on her shoulder. "Ugh. I hate bugs." She looked around. "If we're lost, maybe we should just go back to the beach. For an island that's supposed to be paradise, wandering around barefoot in the jungle and swatting at mosquitos is turning out to be a real mood killer."

  Rick squeezed her hand. "I'm sure we're almost there, and it will be worth it, you'll see. I just don't remember there being so many other well-traveled trails." The trail to the right seemed to head definitely downhill, and he didn't think that was right. To the left, then. "This way."

  "I hope you're right," Stephanie said. "I'm not sure how much more paradise I can take at this rate."

  The path soon turned to take them up a hill, which he climbed with a sinking feeling in his stomach. It didn't really feel right, but he hoped that at the least they might come out on some higher ground where he could get a look at where they were. After what seemed like forever, they abruptly popped out of the trees onto the crown of a promontory cliff that overlooked a broad expanse of ocean. As he looked back the way they had come, Rick had an excellent view of two things.

  One was the beach hut, nestled snugly in its secluded little cove at the base of the two hundred foot cliff they were currently standing on.

  But it was the second thing that instantly commanded his full attention, and caused Stephanie to gasp beside him.

  And that was the vertical wall of churning gray clouds racing towards them like a locomotive on the ever-capricious wind.

  "Oh my God," said Rick. They were already out of time. There was no outrunning a storm like this. There was only reaction. "We gotta go." He turned and tugged Stephanie after him, his feet already obeying the primal instinct to run for cover.

  "Where?" shouted Stephanie as she trotted behind him, double-time, down the same hill they had just spent the better part of a half an hour slogging up.

  "We've got to get back to the boat and try to get it to a safe place to wait out the weather," he called over his shoulder. "The soft sand where we anchored won't hold it for long if the wind and waves get high enough."

  "Hold it right there." Stephanie dug in her heels and forced Rick to stop. She glared at him, eyes wide and arms crossed. "What do you mean the anchor won't hold it? It could just float away? Leave us stranded with no food, no dry clothes, no radio?"

  The air crackled with the electricity of the coming storm, urging him to action. He met her gaze squarely. "That's exactly what I mean. The longer we stand here debating about it, the more likely it is to happen." He turned and pulled her after him. "Let's go."

  "Un-freaking believable," muttered Stephanie. She had no choice but to follow.

  She hadn't taken more than three steps when the storm broke over them. It hit hard with a howling wind that drove an instant, torrential downpour. It didn't give any warning and it didn't take any prisoners. Stephanie was pretty sure it was out to kill them.

  At first she thought the trees would provide them some cover, but within minutes the rain poured down off the canopy of leaves overhead in continuous buckets, quickly transforming the dirt path into a muddy river. The wind whipped leaves and palm fronds into their faces as they slipped and slid along the muddy trail, tripping over roots and rocks.

  In front of her, Rick stumbled and went down hard.

  This was no fun at all anymore.

  "Are you okay?" Stephanie shouted over the roar of the wind as she grabbed his hand and helped him to his feet.

  "Found the sign." He pointed at the wooden "No Trespassing" sign lying flat on the ground. "Tripped right over it."

  "Wow!" Stephanie eyed the muddy abyss the crossroad had become. The bushes that had concealed the fallen sign were all but washed away. She clenched her teeth together to keep them from chattering. She couldn't believe how fast she'd gotten chilled. "Maybe we should just find the cabin and wait this out."

  Rick looked torn. "You're probably right. I don't know if I'd even be able to swim to the boat in this storm, let alone maneuver it safely. Damn." He shook his head. "This is bad. I really don't know if the anchor will hold it where it is. It might rain for an hour, or it might rain all night."

  "Well, since there isn't anything we can realistically do about the boat at this point, I vote we find some shelter and wait out whatever happens."

  Rick's shoulders slumped. "Fine," he said. "Let's try the downhill trail this time."

  Stephanie followed him. She had a good feeling about this trail, it seemed to be going the right direction from what she had seen at the lookout point.

  She tried to feel some sympathy for Rick, but was a little too cold and miserable to dredge any up. Her bathing suit had been an appropriate clothing choice when she was just going to splash around in the ocean a little and lie on the beach. It turned out not to be a good choice for jungle exploration, especially in a major storm. Hiking barefoot hadn't been such a wise decision either. Sharp little rocks and protruding tree roots along the trail had taken their toll on her bare feet, leaving them cut and bruised. She was muddy and dirty and water-logged. She thought longingly of her comfy room back at the resort with its Jacuzzi tub and big soft bed.

  When she followed Rick out of the cover of the trees onto the exposed hillside, she was hit with the full force of stinging, horizontal rain. She shielded her face from it as well as she could, and focused on getting down to the bottom as fast as she could.

  Torrents of water rushed straight down the hill across the zig-zag path, forcing them to step, or sometimes jump over them, or risk being swept off their feet by the gushing flows.

  She didn't notice that Rick had come to a dead stop in front of her until she bumped right into him. She put a hand on his shoulder to steady herself.

  "My boat!" His body was rigid beneath her palm as he squinted against the rain that blew into his face. "Oh my God, there it goes."

  "What?" Stephanie pushed wet hair out of her face and shielded her eyes to try and see where Rick was gazing.

  On the ocean below, the Paradise Regained, un- manned, and un-moored by the storm, drifted out in the open water past the small cove they stood above. And making pretty good speed by the looks of it.

  "Oh no!" She clapped her hands to her face and watched, unbelieving, as their way back to safety and civilization bobbed, rocked and blew steadily away in the storm. In less time than she would have thought possible, it floated out of sight, to end up who- knew-where.

  In front of her, Rick sank to sit in the middle of the trail.

  "Wow, that's probably the last time that guy lets you take a boat out," she said. "If he had another one."

  Rick rubbed his hands over his face and shook his head. "It was mine," he said in a flat tone. "I'm the one to blame, and I'm the one without a boat."

  "What do you mean it was your boat?" She fisted her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at him. "What's going on here? What the hell's going on here?"

  "Look, it's no big deal, okay? I've been meaning to tell you for a while now that I'm the owner. Of the boat and the resort. It's not a big secret, I just hadn't gotten around to it yet."

  Stephanie stared at him, speechless, his words a sucker- punch to the gut. She felt betrayed and she felt foolish, two things she hated more than anything else. For the first time in a long time, she'd let down her guard with a man, and he'd lied to her like she was some stupid bimbo. She shook her head. Maybe she had been a stupid bimbo.

  "Hadn't gotten around to it?" she finally managed.

  Ligh
tning flashed, sunburst bright. Rick jumped to his feet and grabbed her hand. "I'll explain later," he shouted as thunder boomed directly over their heads. "Right now we run like hell."

  Chapter 5

  Rick kept hold of Stephanie's hand as they slipped and slid their way down the steep, zigzag trail, grateful that she sucked it up and did what it took to get to the bottom in one piece.

  He hoped there was a way to come back from the mess he'd made of things. He knew he'd have only himself to blame if he'd ruined his chances with her.

  He'd never been more grateful for sand between his toes than when they hit the beach at the bottom of the hill. He sprinted towards the humble cabin at the foot of the cliff. Right now, that little shack looked like the Taj Mahal to him. It represented warmth and shelter from the howling storm that had done its best to beat them to a pulp all the way down the hill.

  He stumbled up the steps of the front porch to the door, noting the wind-tossed pile of deck chairs at one end. The doorknob rattled in his hand, refusing to give. He held onto the shreds of his patience and kept working at it. He knew the door didn't have a lock.

  "This is it?" Behind him, Stephanie's voice was laced with incredulity.

  Rick glanced over his shoulder.

  She stood with her arms crossed, staring at the small building.

  "Seriously? I thought this was a five star resort. What's up with the hillbilly shack?" Stephanie said.

  Rick turned back to the uncooperative door knob. "It may not be deluxe, but I'll guarantee it's drier in there than it is out here." The door swung open at last, thank God. "After you."

  She stepped past him into the darker interior. "Better not be any rats in here. Oh, wait." She turned around. "That would be you."

  Ignoring her comment, Rick followed her in and closed the door behind him, bolting out the wind and rain. He leaned back against it for a moment, letting relief wash over him. They'd made it. They were safe.

  He tried the light switch on the wall. Nothing.

  "Guess we're down to oil lamps," he said. He knelt before an ancient-looking wooden chest to the right of the door, pushed open the lid. Reaching inside, he pulled out two old-fashioned hurricane lamps. "We always keep some around. The generator can be temperamental, so the electricity is a little iffy out here."

  "Hope you've got some towels and blankets." Stephanie took a few steps into the hut's single, cluttered room as Rick made short work of lighting the two lamps. "What is this place anyway?"

  "It's a beach hut for the resort employees. They can hang out here on their days off." He set one lamp on top of the chest and the other on the square coffee table in front of the couch. "It's not fancy, but it's private and it has its comforts."

  He made a circuit of the room, pawing through various piles of clutter for something useful. "There's a bathroom through that door on the left."

  "Indoor plumbing. I'm impressed." She headed for the door he'd indicated.

  Rick's shoulders slumped as the bathroom door clicked closed. Wow, this was so not going the way he had hoped. She wasn't very happy and he didn't blame her.

  Exhaustion and disappointment weighed heavily on him. Even finding two striped beach towels that only needed a little sand shaken out, and an actually clean blanket folded up on the end of the couch didn't cheer him up.

  Shivering, he eyed the still-closed bathroom door as he quickly pulled off his wet clothes. Wrapping himself from neck to knees in one of the oversized towels, he allowed himself to collapse onto the well-worn couch, grateful to finally be dry and off his feet. He draped the blanket over his lap for good measure, then leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He'd look for something to eat after he'd rested for a few minutes.

  He'd had such high hopes when he'd first gotten Brett's call about setting up a dream getaway for Stephanie. It sounded like the perfect chance to get to know her better, find out if there could be something between them. And it had seemed to be working. Right up to the moment he'd watched their only way back home float away in the storm. Well, if he was honest with himself, it had probably started going south the first time he had a chance to introduce himself and didn't.

  She probably wouldn't want anything to do with him after this fiasco. Even though there had been a few amazing moments on the boat...

  The bathroom door opened. Rick looked up at the sound, and his thoughts stuttered.

  Stephanie emerged, wrapped in a dark blue towel she must have found in the bathroom. She'd loosened her hair from its braid, letting it hang mermaid-long to her waist. She gave him a look that dared him to find fault.

  All he could think of was the fact that she was naked underneath that towel. The only barrier between him and paradise was a single layer of soft terry cloth. That, and a somewhat thicker layer of well-earned displeasure.

  He let his eyes feast on the smooth bare skin of her neck and shoulders that rose above the top of the towel and the sleek length of those beautiful legs extending below the bottom edge. He longed to peel away that covering and set his fingers and lips to every square inch of what lay beneath.

  Apparently oblivious to his drooling, Stephanie stalked the length of the room, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. "I hung my wet clothes over the shower rod in there," she said. She poked at a pile of what looked like dirty laundry, kept moving. "Drying off definitely makes a difference. I think I'm finally starting to warm up."

  She suddenly stopped in the middle of the room, and turned to face him. "I can't believe I was so blind the whole time." She crossed her arms. "Like when we were walking up the path just now, I was thinking, wow, my camera is probably ruined by the rain and what am I going to do about the pictures my boss wanted? But then I realized—" She smacked her forehead. "I don't need those pictures. You're the guy my boss said would keep an eye on me. You've probably reported everything to him in your daily spy reports."

  Rick flinched. She had him there. "It's not like that, Stephanie. I'm not reporting anything to anyone. Brett just asked me to look after you, make sure you relaxed and had a good time." His words sounded unconvincing, even to him.

  Stephanie gave a humorless laugh. "Great. You can be my character witness then and tell him I did everything on his stupid list. I'm sure he'll appreciate the favor you did him. I know I do." She turned away, blinking furiously.

  Rick kicked himself silently. What had he thought would happen when she found out? "Stephanie—"

  She walked over to the little kitchenette area and began pulling open cupboards and drawers. "It's kind of humiliating." She kept her back to him as she rifled through the sparse contents. "I mean, I was starting to think maybe there was something going on between us, you know? But you were just doing my boss a great big favor." She stopped, staring down at something in her hand. She turned to Rick with a strange look on her face. "Saltines and condoms? Really? What kind of place did you say this was?"

  Rick swallowed, wondering why he felt like the first time his mother caught him with a Playboy magazine under his bed. "I told you, it's a hangout place for the employees," he said. "As long as they don't break the law or burn the place down, I don't care what they do out here."

  "Nice." Stephanie grimaced and tossed the condoms back in the drawer she'd opened, but she kept the saltines. "I can't believe I'm stuck out here in the middle of God-forsaken nowhere."

  She walked back toward Rick, her loose hair swinging and the towel straining to adequately cover her breasts.

  His thoughts stuttered again. He mentally shook himself back to what she was saying.

  She handed him a couple of the saltine packets. "I swear, I'm going to kill my boss. 'Take a vacation Stephanie,'" she said in a mocking singsong. She plopped down on the couch. "'It'll relax you Stephanie.' Sure Brett, I'll just get right on that. As soon as I get off this stupid deserted island." She tore open a cellophane packet and bit into a cracker.

  "I just wanted to get to know you," said Rick quietly.

  Stephanie turned towards
him, a tart reply ready on the tip of her tongue. The look on his face stopped her.

  The lamplight washed his features in warm flame and secretive shadow. His hair had dried, falling in dark gold waves that touched his shoulders, and his earring glinted like a live ember. His gaze held her, drew her in. Told her he wanted her. Don't you want me? "I just kept waiting for the right time to tell you who I was. I wasn't trying to lie to you. I'm sorry."

  She wasn't buying that old line. "Well, you did a pretty good job for not trying. Makes me feel like an idiot. Why would you do that?"

  He rubbed a hand over his face. "Pretty weak apology, I know. I guess part of me was really enjoying being nobody for a while. Letting all that heat, all that attraction just happen with somebody for once. No complications about who I am or what I own. All that noise that gets in the way of knowing whether someone is into me just for who I am."

  She watched, mesmerized, as he reached out and took her hand between both of his. Caressed her skin, rubbing heat into her cold fingers. "That was really nice with you, Stephanie. Just two people, experiencing each other."

  She cleared her throat. "So, you lied to me because you wanted to get to know me better. That's a good explanation." Should I believe him?

  Rick chuckled, pressing his lips to her cold fingers. "There's no dancing around the truth with you, Stephanie. I like that. Yes, that's about what it comes down to." He looked up, his gaze direct and serious. "I was wrong and I'm sorry."

  "I see," she said, considering. It was as clear and honest an apology as she'd ever heard. And speaking of being honest, who was she to judge? She'd been ready to have a weekend fling with a pool- boy. Did the fact that he was rich really change her plans? The only downside was that he was friends with her boss, which might not be cool if things didn't work out.

  He turned her hand and pressed a soft, moist kiss on her palm, waking up all kinds of nerve endings she didn't know she had. "You're smart and beautiful, and you're confident for the right reasons—because you've worked hard to be the best at what you do."