“You’re a man now,” he muttered to himself. He flexed his biceps and grunted, sure that he must have a caveman gene left inside him somewhere.
It was strange how self-reliant he had become when needed. In the past, money had always solved his problems. If he wanted something, he just paid for it. But here on the island, it didn’t matter that he had money…or privilege…or fame. He was just a regular guy who’d made a very respectable fire.
“Nice fire.”
Trey turned around to see Sophie standing on the porch, her hip braced against the railing, her hair tumbled around her sleepy face. He slowly let his arms fall to his sides.
“Hey,” he said. “How was your nap?”
“Good,” she murmured, rubbing her eyes. “I think I drank a little too much wine.”
“Headache?”
She nodded, smiling winsomely. “But my foot feels much better.”
“That’s good,” he said. “I thought I’d make us some dinner. Maybe heat up those beans. And I found a tin of crackers. They might be pretty tasty with the oysters.”
“I am hungry,” she said.
“Good. Why don’t you sit and I’ll get things ready.”
Sophie plopped down on the top step and watched him as he gathered up the collection of canned goods for their meal, her elbows braced on her knees, her chin cupped in her palm.
“You know, if we didn’t have this pocketknife, we’d be in pretty big trouble.” Trey held it out. “Corkscrew, can opener, knife, scissors, tweezers. If we just had a few more tools we could build a boat and get ourselves off this island. Kind of like MacGyver.”
“Does he have a lot of tools?” she asked.
Trey chuckled softly. He kept forgetting that he and Sophie had grown up on opposite sides of the world. Her cultural references were completely different from his. Still, he was amazed at how easily she moved between cultures. Now that she’d spent the day with him, her accent had all but disappeared. “Yeah, he’s got a lot of tools. He could make a luxury yacht out of a chewing-gum wrapper and a rubber band.”
She stared at him, her head tilted. “How is that possible?”
“American television,” he said. Trey set an open can of beans on the edge of the fire, then stood back to watch it. “I’m going to buy myself one of these knives when I get home.”
“You can have that one,” Sophie offered. “As a memento of our time together.”
“Thanks,” Trey said, staring down at the knife. “That’s nice of you.”
Though the knife was a thoughtful gesture, Trey wanted more than that. He at least wanted a promise that they’d see each other again. A chance to find out if there was anything between them once they were off the island.
“You are about to enjoy the full extent of my cooking skills,” he said, when the beans began to bubble.
Sophie watched as he straightened and carried the can over to her, using a piece of canvas as a potholder. He set them down, shaking his hand, burned from the heat from the can.
Sophie took his fingers and licked his fingertips, then blew on them. The cooling effect sent a flood of desire racing through his body and Trey cursed inwardly. Would there ever come a time when she could touch him and he wouldn’t automatically think about sex?
When she was satisfied that his fingers would be all right, Sophie sat back and waited while Trey laid out the rest of the feast between them. Sliced papaya, smoked oysters, another bottle of red wine. A tin filled with crackers that they could use to scoop up the beans. All in all, Trey thought it was a rather well-rounded meal.
“Five star,” he said.
“Are you sure we should eat these oysters?” she asked.
He sat down opposite her. “I don’t know. Do you think they might make us do something crazy later?” Trey asked.
Sophie giggled. “I hope so.” She plopped one on top of a cracker and gobbled it down. “What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done in your life?”
This was not a game Trey wanted to be playing. He’d done far too many crazy-and stupid-things to recount. Things he was ashamed of now. “I don’t know.”
“Have you ever had sex in a public place?” Sophie asked.
“Oh, we’re talking about crazy sex? I thought you meant like losing a hundred thousand on one spin at roulette in Monte Carlo or wrecking a vintage Ferrari sports car the day after I bought it or punching out a policeman in Paris.”
Sophie gasped. “You did all that?”
Trey had almost forgotten that Sophie knew nothing of his life before she’d met him. “No,” he lied. “I was just using those as examples.”
She ate another oyster. “So. Tell me.”
Hell, he didn’t want to lie to her. But his sexual escapades were a lot worse than anything else he’d ever done. “Well, there was this one time. With this woman I barely knew. We met on an airplane and-well, you know the rest.”
“I do?”
He nodded. “You were there.”
“That was the craziest sex you ever had?”
“Yeah,” Trey said. “That was pretty crazy. How about you?”
She drew a deep breath. “I’ve always wanted to do something crazy. I guess attacking you on the beach was the high point for me.”
It was a decent concession, he mused. Trey certainly didn’t want to hear about her past lovers. And he didn’t want to talk about his. They’d start fresh, without a romantic or sexual past for either one of them.
“Well, maybe we’ll have to work on that,” he said. “We could always aim for something higher, don’t you think?”
She gave him a sexy smile, then popped another oyster in her mouth. “It’s good,” Sophie said, nodding at the meal.
“You know, this is the first time I’ve ever cooked for a woman. Until now my culinary skills stopped at ordering takeout and reading French menus.”
“So what else are you good at?” she asked, her brow arching up. “I mean, besides…you know…”
“I do?”
“Sex,” she said. “You’re good at sex. But I’m sure you already know that.”
“So are you,” he said. He considered her question for a long moment, trying to come up with an answer. Most men his age had at least one thing they could do well. But all the things he could list didn’t really make a whole lot of difference in the world. He could drive a race car really fast, he could ski better than anyone he knew. He was a daredevil when it came to motorcycles. He was good at blackjack and could speak six different languages. He could seduce a stranger in less than an hour. And he knew how to spend money.
“I’m good at taking care of you,” he said. “And that’s all that really matters.” He picked a cracker out of the can and held it out to her.
“I guess life really isn’t so bad on this island,” she said.
“After we get back to civilization, I’m going to take you out for a really good meal. The best restaurant in Pape‘ete. We’ll drink champagne and order the most expensive entrée on the-”
“You don’t have to say that,” Sophie interrupted.
“Say what?”
“That we’ll go out. I mean, I appreciate the gesture, but I think it would be best if we just went our separate ways once this is over.”
“Why would you say that?” Trey asked, startled by her indifferent attitude. At the least, they ought to leave the island as friends.
Sophie shrugged. “Because it’s silly to pretend. We’re attracted to each other. We’re the only two people on this island. Believe me, if there were another woman here, you’d be attracted to her, don’t you think?”
“Not if she looked like my aunt Marjorie,” he teased.
She smiled. “All right, any reasonably attractive women under the age of forty.”
“Forty-five,” Trey said. “I’ve always liked older women.”
“See. It’s just a matter of availability.”
“So you don’t think there’s something…special to this attraction?”
She shrugged. “No. Because it won’t last. My mother always said it’s the chase that fascinates men. Once a man has caught a woman, he tires quickly and moves on to another. Like my father. Once he was certain of my mother’s love, he moved on to someone else. She always said that was her biggest mistake. She let him know how much she loved him.”
“I’m not your father,” Trey said.
Sophie scooped up some beans with a cracker, then put them into her mouth. “No,” she said, shaking her head as she chewed. “But you are a man.”
Trey stared at her for a long moment, before reaching out and smoothing his hand over her cheek. Was she really that cynical? “And you’re a very special woman. There’s something very exotic about your eyes.” He ran his finger along her collarbone and let it drift down to a spot between her breasts. “And about the way your skin feels.” He leaned forward and kissed her, taking his time to tease a response out of her. “And you taste better than any woman I’ve ever kissed.”
“I think the oysters are working,” she said, a tiny smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Either that, or you’re too charming for your own good.”
He should have put aside his doubts right then and pulled her into his arms. But instead, her words brought his past crashing back to the present. How many times had he heard that? Peter Shelton the Third was all charm and no substance. “Do you really think this is just a game?” Trey asked, his mood darkening suddenly. “That I’m just interested in the chase?”
“I-I don’t know what to think. I think maybe you’re used to getting what you want from women.”
“And you don’t get what you want from men?”
Sophie shook her head. “Not usually.” She picked another oyster out of the tin and held it out to him. Trey shook his head. “At least, not until now.”
The rest of the meal passed in more subdued conversation, Trey’s mind occupied by the admissions spoken between them. He may be good at sex and even better at seduction. But it was the other stuff he needed now. He wished he were better at the whole romance thing.
For the first time in his life, he wasn’t quite sure what to do. How could he get Sophie to look at him as more than just the man who satisfied her sexual needs? A man only interested in the chase?
S OPHIE GUZZLED THE LAST of the bottled water, hoping that it would ease the tiny hangover she’d gotten from the wine. Trey had found an old coffee tin in the cottage and had used it to collect rainwater to refill their bottles before the night set in.
He truly seemed to be enjoying their exercise in survival. He’d made a hammock, started a fire, cooked dinner and was now replenishing their supply of drinking water. Sophie had to admit she could have been stuck on this island with a far less useful guy than Trey Shelton.
And far less sexy, as well. Dressed only in his ragged shorts, Trey might have looked a bit disreputable to some. But Sophie couldn’t take her eyes off him. His skin had been burnished by a day of Polynesian sun filtered through the cloud cover, and the thin sheen of sweat on his torso only highlighted the muscles of his shoulders and back.
Sophie drew a ragged breath as she let her gaze drop to his butt. It wasn’t difficult to imagine what would happen between them that night. What else was there to do in the dark but continue the seduction that had begun the moment the plane landed?
She wondered if there might come a point when his touch didn’t cause her to respond so intensely. He seemed to know what she needed even before she did. And when he set out to bring her pleasure, Sophie could do nothing but be swept up in the moment.
Brushing the cracker crumbs off her fingertips, Sophie stood. Right now, she wanted to be kissed by him. And after that, touched. She didn’t want to wait until dark. She needed to look into his eyes when they made love and know that he needed her as much as she needed him.
Slowly, she descended the steps, wincing at the residual pain from the jellyfish sting and the tingles that shot up her other leg from a foot that had fallen asleep. But as she took the last step, her leg wobbled and she tumbled face forward onto the sandy ground.
Trey turned and quickly crossed to where she was lying. He bent down and helped her to her feet, holding firm until she regained her balance. “Are you determined to kill yourself?”
“My foot was asleep,” she murmured.
“And you’ve had too much wine. I should have replenished our water supply a lot earlier.” He held tight to her elbow. “Maybe we should take a walk. Get you some fresh air.”
The suggestion struck Sophie as silly. They were practically living outside. How could she get any more air than she already had? A giggle bubbled from her lips and she covered her mouth as a hiccup escaped, as well.
He turned his back to her. “Hop on.”
“Where are we going?”
“We’re going to the beach. To watch the sunset.”
“How romantic,” she said with a sarcastic edge. “But I think it’s going to start raining again. Look at those clouds.”
“Yeah, well, it’s about time we do something romantic, don’t you think?”
Sophie blinked, surprised by his words. Though romance might be nice for a couple that was actually in a relationship, she and Trey were just having sex. A lot of sex. Romance should have nothing at all to do with it.
“Come on,” Trey insisted. “Hop on. We’re going to miss the sunset and we’ll have to walk back in the dark.”
“I can walk,” she murmured. Sophie slipped into her flip-flops and started off in the direction of the beach, limping on her sore foot and tugging at her pareu as she circled the cottage.
He hurried up beside her and took her hand in his, lacing his fingers through hers. “We’re not running a race here,” he said. “We can stroll. Or I can stroll and you can continue to limp along.”
The whole idea of romance frightened her, Sophie admitted to herself. With romance came expectations. And then disappointments. And regrets and recriminations. She wasn’t good at romance. She never had been.
Why couldn’t they just concentrate on what they were both good at-sex? It was so much simpler. She didn’t need to think about other things when they were together. She only needed to respond to his touch.
“All right,” she muttered. “I’ll take that ride.”
He bent down and Sophie hopped on his back, her legs straddling his waist, her arms wrapped around his neck. As he walked, she rested her chin on his shoulder.
“Tell me, if you were home right now, what would you be doing?” she asked.
“Home? Home has always been a rather vague concept for me. I usually don’t stay in one place too long.”
“You don’t have a home?” Sophie asked.
“Sometimes I live in hotels. Or stay with friends. Sometimes, if I’m in Europe, I rent a house. Lately, I’ve been living in the Shelton in Manhattan. And if it was dinnertime, I’d probably be watching a ball game and eating something from room service.” He paused. “At least here, I’ve got a plan, a purpose. I like that.”
“You’re better suited for island life than I am,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to the nape of his neck.
“I’m going to find a spot for my resort and I’m going to get it built,” he said. “It’s funny. I was waiting around for something in my life to change. And now it has, thanks to you.”
“I didn’t have anything to do with it,” Sophie said.
“I think landing on this island was the best thing in the world for me,” Trey said. “It woke me up. Made me realize that life was just passing me by.”
Sophie had been feeling that same way for years, as if the world was spinning so fast and she was standing still. Exciting things were happening to everyone but her. But crash-landing on Suaneva hadn’t made things any clearer to her. Instead, it made everything more confusing.
“I’ve been waiting, too. For my father to stop being so stubborn, for my mother to decide to come back home, for me to get a life of my own.”
> “Aren’t we supposed to know what we want by now?”
“Maybe there’s something wrong with us,” Sophie said.
“Or maybe it’s just the opposite,” he said.
She thought about his comment for a long moment. Was he saying there was something “right” about them? Or was he saying that they shouldn’t know what they wanted? Sophie opened her mouth to ask, but then snapped it shut. She really didn’t want to know the answer.
By the time they reached the beach, the sun was hanging low on the horizon. To the south the clouds were building, the reflection of the sun creating a riot of pink and orange and purple.
“Wow,” he said, coming to a dead stop. “Look at that sky.”
“You act like you’ve never seen a sunset before,” Sophie said, hopping down.
“I haven’t. I mean, I have, but I haven’t really taken the time to look. It’s beautiful.”
Sophie drew in a deep breath and nodded. It was the most beautiful sunset she’d ever seen. Or maybe it was just so wonderful because of the company she had. She wrapped her arms around Trey’s waist and tucked herself into the crook of his arm.
Physical contact between them was something she’d almost begun to take for granted. But standing here, she knew she wouldn’t always be able to touch him like this. There would come a time when she’d want to remember the feel of his skin, the way the muscle rippled beneath flesh.
She’d never been one to appreciate romantic clichés-candlelit dinners, long walks on the beach, beautiful sunsets. But something had changed. She was seeing these things for the first time, with Trey. And Sophie was glad she could share them with him.
Thunder rumbled in the distance and a wind gust sent a soft spray across the beach. He wrapped his arms more tightly around her, and she felt the goose bumps prickle her smooth skin. “Is it going to be bad?” he asked.
“It’ll probably be noisy and rainy and windy, but it probably won’t last long.”
“I never really notice the weather,” he said. “But here, I’m feeling a little vulnerable.”
Who Needs Mistletoe? Page 9