Who Needs Mistletoe?

by Kate Hoffmann

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  He squatted down and picked through the toolbox, then pulled out a large pocketknife. “I’m making us a shelter, in case it starts to rain.”

  “Give me that knife,” she said, wriggling her fingers.

  He walked over to her and placed it in her hand. Sophie reached out for the leg of his khakis and cut the fabric at midthigh. She tore off one leg and then the other. “There. You’ll be more comfortable now.”

  “I’m not sure I’ll ever be comfortable with you lying around topless like that,” he said wryly, staring down at her, the soft light outlining his gorgeous body.

  Sophie glanced down at her chest. “Americans are far too obsessed with breasts,” she muttered. “It’s too hot for a shirt. You’re not wearing one. Why should I?” Sophie paused. “You know, we could always sit in the plane if it rained.”

  “It’s kind of hot and stuffy in there,” he said. “It’s nicer outdoors. And I don’t want to sleep in the plane. It’s too cramped. I need space.”

  He hesitated, then looked her way. Considering what they’d done on the beach an hour before, Sophie could attest to that fact. Making love in the plane would be more than uncomfortable. When they did it again, she wanted comfort, not privacy.

  Trey straightened, turning in a slow circle, then looked over at her. “Which way is the wind coming from?”

  She pointed to the northeast and he grinned. “Thanks.” He took a small length of rope and ran it through the grommet in the tarp, then tied it onto a tree. “When I was fifteen, my parents sent me on an Outward Bound trip. They thought it would make a man of me.”

  “What is this? This Outward Bound?” Sophie asked, curious to learn a little more about her lover.

  “It’s a program where they drop kids in the middle of the wilderness and they have to learn how to survive by working together. You learn all these skills-how to make a fire and how to build a shelter. How to find drinkable water.”

  “These are good things to know,” Sophie said.

  “This is the first time I’ve ever needed to use them,” he said ruefully. Trey paused, staring down at the knot he’d tied. “You know, that was the last time I remember ever feeling a sense of accomplishment. I was happy that summer. Happy with myself.”

  “So it made a man out of you?”

  Silly question, she mused. The answer was right in front of her eyes. In all her life, she’d never met anyone who was more “man” than Trey. He exuded masculine sexuality, from his careless stance to his easy athletic grace, from his boyish smile to his unchecked desire.

  He glanced over her shoulder, chuckling softly. “Yeah, in more ways than one. I lost my virginity on that trip. To a red-haired girl from Burlington, Vermont. Her name was Elizabeth and she could portage a canoe all by herself.”

  Sophie giggled. “Sounds like the right kind of girl to be stuck in the wilderness with. Tell me more.”

  “About the girl?”

  “No, about losing your virginity. Was it all you thought it would be?”

  He considered her question for a long moment and Sophie was afraid that she’d offended him with her bold inquiry. They’d just shared the most intimate experience between a man and a woman. Why shouldn’t they speak about sex as easily as they’d shared it?

  “It was over pretty quickly,” he admitted. “And it was out in the woods. We’d been sent to gather firewood. And neither one of us had had a bath for days. The mosquitos nearly ate us alive. But I liked it.” He nodded. “I really liked it. And I’ve liked it ever since.”

  “And did it happen again?”

  Trey shook his head. “No, she moved on to an older boy. What about you?”

  “I was sixteen,” Sophie said. “I was spending the holidays in Paris with my mother’s family. I met a boy. He was an art student and he was sketching along the Seine. He took me back to his parents’ apartment and we did it. It was pretty much the same as your experience.”

  “It’s a wonder we survived,” he said. “And that we managed to get so good at it.”

  “So what attracted you to this girl?” Sophie asked, wondering just what kind of women he usually chose to bed.

  “She had very large…”

  “Breasts?”

  “Shoulders,” Trey said. “Like I said, she could haul a canoe down a muddy path for miles. And carry two backpacks at once.”

  “So you admire capable women?” Sophie asked. “Some men find them…intimidating.”

  “I admire you,” he said. “When the plane was going down, you acted like it was just another day at the office.” He looked over at her. “Just how close were we to dying?”

  She smiled. “If I told you all the things that could have gone wrong, you might not want to fly again. We were lucky,” she said.

  He tipped his head, a grin quirking at the corners of his mouth. “I guess we were.”

  There was more than one meaning to his words, Sophie mused. They were lucky to be alive. But they were also lucky to be stuck alone on this island. Had they met any other place, they might have enjoyed a quick afternoon in bed and then gone their separate ways. But here, they were able to take their time, to test their passion.

  Sophie pushed to her feet and strolled over to where he worked, grabbing the edge of the tarp and pulling it tight. She caught him staring, then looked down at her bare breasts. It was obvious that her nudity was causing him a great deal of unease. He was growing hard, his erection bulging out the front of his khakis. Was it just her, or was he always so aroused around women?

  She sighed, then tossed her hair back over her shoulders, exposing herself completely. “There,” she said. “Go ahead. You can look. I don’t mind.”

  He focused on tying a knot around the trunk of a coconut palm. “I’m not obsessed,” he murmured.

  “Mais non! It doesn’t bother me. I just don’t understand this American fascination with naked breasts. There is nothing special here. One, two. Now, if I had three, there might be something to stare at. But, sadly, I only have two. Like every other woman on the planet. And every man, for that matter.”

  Trey grabbed the edge of the tarp, covering her hand with his. The moment they made contact, Sophie’s breath caught in her throat. She wanted him to touch her again, to pull her into his arms and run his hands over her naked skin.

  Slowly, Sophie stepped closer, until her breasts brushed against his chest. It was a subtle challenge, a dare for him to touch her more intimately. She saw the desire in his eyes and his reaction was unmistakable. Trey drew in a sharp breath and held it.

  A heartbeat later, his hand found her shoulder, then slowly drifted down to her breast. “I beg to differ,” Trey said softly, as he rubbed his thumb over her nipple. “Yours aren’t quite as ordinary as you claim. Besides, how can you be upset that men find that part of your body so distracting?”

  “I didn’t say I was upset,” Sophie protested, placing her fingertips on his chest. “Just curious. And perhaps a bit amused. Would you rather I put my top back on? So you wouldn’t be distracted?”

  He bent close and brushed a kiss across her lips, his hand still cupping her breast. “When you look at a naked male body, you don’t see anything sexual?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “All right, let’s limit our discussion to my male body.” Trey stepped back and held out his arms. “Be honest. Take your time. I’ll wait.”

  Rising to his challenge, Sophie stared at him, taking in every detail of his form between his chin and his belly. Her gaze skimmed over his wide shoulders to the well-defined muscles of his abdomen. She reached out and ran her finger along the trail of dark hair that went from his navel to a spot beneath the waistband of his khakis. She’d followed that trail before and knew what was waiting at the end.

  Her mind skipped back to their encounter on the beach. It had happened so quickly, she hadn’t taken the time to think. In truth, everything was a bit hazy. But, there were some smal
l details that kept teasing at her memory, tempting her to try it all over again. It had felt good. He had felt good moving inside her.

  She returned to the little valley in the center of his chest, following it down to his muscled abdomen. Her eyes focused on a bead of sweat that traced its way through the ridges and contours. Her fingers twitched and she fought the urge to taste it.

  Unable to resist, she reached out and ran a lazy finger from his collarbone to his khakis, tracing the trail of hair before stopping where his waistband began. “This,” she murmured. “I like this.”

  Sophie pushed up on her toes and gave him a kiss, letting her tongue slip between his lips for just a second. Though she was tempted to pull him back down on the blanket and have her way with him, Sophie fought her need for instant gratification. If he wanted her, he’d have to wait, at least until they found something more than sex to sustain them.

  “Are you hungry?” she whispered, her lips still touching his.

  “For you? Always.”

  “No, for something to eat.” Sophie stepped back. “When we were circling the island, I think I saw some old rainwater tanks over on the other side of the lagoon. I’m going to see what there is. Meanwhile, you can build a fire and then we’ll try to catch some fish.”

  “Do we have a fishing pole?”

  “There are hooks and line in the bottom of the toolbox.”

  “Do we have matches?”

  “Yes, but using them wouldn’t be much of an accomplishment for a man so well trained in wilderness survival, would it?”

  She found his shirt and slipped into it, then tied the tails at her waist and rolled up the sleeves. Sophie grabbed the plastic water jug he’d pulled from the tail of the plane. Despite having shared an incredibly passionate encounter, they were still virtual strangers. She didn’t know how he took his coffee, whether he preferred showers to a bath, or whether he slept on the left or the right side of the bed. But she was learning what made him hard with desire. And for now, that was enough.

  Though he was ready and willing to have her again, Sophie thought it might be a good idea to take things a bit slower. He only had one condom left and they had the whole night ahead of them. She intended to make the next seduction last a lot longer than the first. Their gazes met and it was as if there was a silent understanding there. They would touch each other again, but next time would be much more powerful than the first.

  “Maybe I should come with you,” he said, his hands braced on his hips. “I wouldn’t want you to get eaten by alligators.”

  Sophie laughed. “There are no alligators on this island.”

  “Well, there are probably all kinds of poisonous snakes and spiders.”

  “In the water. There are sea snakes.”

  “Poisonous?” he asked.

  “Yes, but very rare. You have more to fear from the centipedes. They have a nasty bite. And there may be taramea and jellyfish and rori and nohu in the lagoon. And sea urchins. Although, if we find any sea urchins, we should eat them. They’re a delicacy.”

  “I’ll come and protect you from sea urchins then.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she insisted. “Why don’t you finish the shelter and get a fire started. We’ll probably need to boil any water we want to drink. The old fronds from the coconut palms burn really well. And you can probably find some driftwood if you walk over to the ocean side of the atoll.”

  “Are you sure you’ll be all right?” he asked.

  “If I get in trouble, I’ll scream and you can rescue me.” Sophie pointed to the other side of the lagoon. “Over there. I’m just going to follow the beach around. You’ll be able to see me most of the way.”

  He crossed over to her, wrapped his arms around her waist and brought his mouth down on hers. It was a sudden, almost possessive, gesture, followed by a long, deep kiss. “Don’t get lost,” he murmured when he finally drew back.

  “I-I won’t,” Sophie stuttered, stunned by the fierce tone of his words.

  She started off down the beach, her knees wobbling from the power of his kiss. Sophie glanced over her shoulder to find him staring at her, his head cocked to the side as he watched.

  In truth, she needed to put a bit of distance between them. Given time alone, she’d be able to reexamine all the details of what had happened-the way his lips felt on her breasts, the scent of his skin, the sound of his moans as he buried himself deep inside her. Even now, she got goose bumps at the thought of the two of them, naked, limbs entwined.

  “Be careful, Sophie,” she muttered to herself. It would be silly to get all wrapped up in this man. Yes, they’d enjoy each other again before they got off the island. But that was where it would have to end, with a physical need that begged to be satisfied. Any type of emotional attachment to Trey would be foolish at best.

  T HE HEAT HAD SETTLED OVER the island as the noonday sun rose behind the thin cover of clouds. Sophie shaded her eyes as she peered across the beach toward her destination. Even though she was alone, she still felt an overwhelming connection to Trey.

  They’d already shared the most intimate of acts, but it was more than just sexual attraction that had brought them together. There was a bond now, a shared experience, forged when they’d both come face-to-face with death, a thing that made the sex they’d shared even more intimate.

  As she waded through a shallow channel that fed seawater into the lagoon, Sophie wondered if she ought to just set up camp on the opposite side of the lagoon from Trey. Yes, he was charming and handsome and unbearably sexy. Just the kind of man it would be impossible to forget. How easy would it be to walk away from him? Or to watch him walk away from her?

  Her mind was still occupied with those thoughts when she reached the ruins of the abandoned resort. She stood on the sand and surveyed what was left-a collection of crumbling fares set back from the lagoon in a grove of coconut palms. Hidden behind the palms, she was surprised to find a small wooden cottage, once whitewashed, but now peeling with age. It had been built on stilts near the water tanks. Colorful flowering vines clung to the porch, nearly hiding the facade of the building. The metal roof still seemed to be intact, though rusty.

  Sophie climbed the stairs and tried the door and to her surprise, it opened. She walked into a huge room, with sunlight filtering through the slats of the rotting shutters. It was nearly empty of furniture and the air inside was stuffy and stale.

  Though Trey’s shelter was admirable, this small house offered much better protection from the rain and dampness. She walked to the nearest window and unlatched the shutters, then pushed them open. Daylight splashed across the floor and as Sophie looked up, she noticed writing on the whitewashed walls.

  She opened a few more shutters and began to read. The walls had become a logbook of sorts for passing sailboats. Over the past thirty years, people from all over the world had anchored inside Suaneva’s reef and left messages on the walls.

  She wandered over to a low counter against the far wall and picked through a meager assortment of canned food. She’d heard of the tradition, how sailors would trade something from their stocks, for something left behind on many of the deserted islands in the Pacific. She searched through the tins, examining a can of smoked oysters and another of beef stew. At least they’d have something for dinner if they didn’t catch any fish.

  The steel water tanks were set behind the cottage in a small meadow, about fifty yards from the back door. When Sophie reached the nearest tank, she searched for an outlet. She expected the faucet to be corroded and impossible to open, but to her surprise, it turned easily. Obviously, passing sailors had taken advantage of the water supply, as well.

  When she’d filled the water jug, Sophie circled around the tank to find a makeshift shower hooked up to a second faucet. But then, something else caught her eye-a small grove of trees, distinctly different from the coconut palms that grew on the island. Someone had thought to plant fruit trees thirty years ago!

  She found mangoes, bananas and papaya
s hanging from the trees and scattered on the ground below, along with broken branches, blown off in storms. Sophie wondered how the fruit could grow in such poor soil, but as she approached, the answer was evident. The original resort owners had hauled in soil so that the trees might flourish. Squatting down, she gathered some of the fallen mangoes, using her pareu as an apron.

  They had everything they needed to survive on this island for more than just a few days. With fish and fruit, firewood and shelter, not to mention drinkable water, they could survive on Suaneva quite easily for as long as they had to.

  How long would be enough? Sophie wondered. Would a week with Trey dull this irresistible attraction? What about a month? Somehow, Sophie sensed it was better that they’d only have wait twenty-four hours to be rescued. Any longer and desire might turn into something much more serious.

  3

  T REY RUBBED HIS PALM , the skin nearly raw. As Sophie had suggested, he’d gathered wood from the beach on the other side of the atoll and had stacked it over a pile of dried palm fronds and old coconut husks. But building a fire was a lot easier than starting one.

  He’d learned three methods during his time with Outward Bound. Without a flint, he was left with only two options. But then, a decent stick was also hard to come by on an island with nothing but palm trees, so he’d been forced to eliminate the bow-and-drill method. Left with the fire-plow method, he’d been optimistic about his chances to succeed. But for some reason, the castaway guy in the movie had a much easier time of it.

  “That’s Hollywood for you,” he muttered. There was probably some expert there to make sure conditions were perfect. Maybe they even used matches.

  Trey sat back on his heels. He should just admit defeat and use the matches. If he got the fire lit before Sophie returned, she’d never know that he cheated. Besides, it was ridiculous to pin his manhood on his ability to start a fire. They were living in the modern world, so why not use the conveniences available.