Crash Landing

by Lori Wilde

  “I’d be the professor,” he said, balancing on one leg as he peeled off his soaking-wet pants.

  “Not hardly. You’re Thurston Howell the third.”

  “Hey,” he protested, shifting to the other leg. “I’m not that old.”

  “Okay, I’ll give you that. Mr. Howell was older, but you’ve got the same outlook on life—money, money, money. Plus, he was a dapper dresser just like you.”

  “That’s stereotyping.”

  He tugged off the other pant leg. The warm breeze hit his wet skin and the erection he’d been working on stiffened. Good thing her back was to him. He was also glad he preferred boxers to briefs, although more than one girlfriend had made fun of him for that. Calling him old-fashioned. Hey, his underwear was pure silk and cost a hundred dollars a pair. Once you’ve had that kind of luxury, it was hard to go back. Oh, god, he was like Thurston Howell the third.

  “Be happy that I didn’t say you reminded me of Gilligan or the Skipper,” Sophia pointed out.

  “I suppose I should take my strokes where I can get them.”

  The word “strokes” seemed to hang orphaned in the air. Or maybe it was just his imagination since he’d been dreaming of stroking Sophia in a thousand different ways.

  “So who am I on the island?” she asked. “Mary Ann or Ginger?”

  “Hands down, Mary Ann.”

  “Why Mary Ann?”

  “Are you kidding me? Petite, dark hair, spunky.” He added his trousers to the pile of clothes on her arm and took the fish from her. He held the snook up in front of him to block her view of...ahem...down under in case she should face him.

  “And cute as a button,” Sophia said with disdain.

  “What’s wrong with cute?”

  “Why not Ginger? Why don’t you see me as Ginger?”

  He felt caught off guard by the question. Why would she even want to be Ginger? Mary Ann had substance. Ginger was all flash. “She has red hair.”

  “That’s superficial. What if Ginger had black hair? Could I be Ginger then?”

  “Ginger would never have black hair.”

  “But what if she did?”

  “Ginger is tall.”

  “So what? Height is not everything.”

  “Are you getting mad at me?”

  She turned around, her nostrils flared. “What’s Ginger got that I don’t have?”

  “Nothing! That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

  “Just once,” Sophia said. “I’d like to be sexy and slinky like Ginger.”

  “Believe me, sweetheart, you’re plenty sexy,” Gibb said.

  “Blondie is a Ginger, isn’t she?”

  “Stacy? Yeah, she’s a Ginger.”

  “See, even you like Ginger better.”

  “I do not like Ginger better.”

  “Then why are you with her?”

  “Why, Sophia, are you jealous?”

  She tossed her head back, sending a cascade of black hair rippling over her shoulders. “I wish I was tall and slinky.”

  “Don’t get me wrong, Ginger has her place, but Mary Ann?” Gibb shook his head. “She’s the woman you want by your side when the chips are down.”

  “The chips are down now,” she said.

  “They most certainly are.”

  Sophia looked pleased and he wanted to laugh out loud with joy that he’d pleased her. “Go take care of the fish,” she said. “I will spread your clothes out to dry.”

  “I’m on it.”

  As Sophia walked away, Gibb couldn’t help thinking that neither Mary Ann nor Ginger could hold a candle to her.

  * * *

  “YOU ARE A very good cook,” Sophia announced over a late lunch of grilled snook and mangoes.

  Gibb sat across from her on a rock wearing black silk boxers. It was all she could do to keep from sneaking glances at him.

  “Mmm. This is delicious,” she carried on.

  “I’m a man of many talents,” he bragged.

  “Humility not being one of them,” she teased.

  He winked at her.

  Sophia’s body heated and she got so flustered, she couldn’t hold his gaze. Whatever was going on with them seemed to have escalated by warp speed. Probably because he was nearly naked and his honed, muscled chest was on display right there in front of her. She had a strong urge to run her tongue over the irregular edges of his scar.

  “I repaired the radio,” she blurted because she couldn’t take any more of this flirtatious banter or how his silk boxer shorts flattered his legs. She was hanging on by her fingernails here.

  Gibb’s eyes brightened. “Excellent. I knew you could do it. What was wrong?”

  “A cable inside the radio got crimped, I’m guessing during the course of the bumpy landing. I had to take the entire radio apart to find what it was but once found it was a quick fix. All I had to do was uncrimp the cable. We’re good to go the next time a plane flies over.”

  “That’s a step in the right direction.”

  “Next problem to solve is the rudder.”

  “Is there enough light left to tackle that today?”

  Sophia eyed the sky. It was three o’clockish, not even twenty-four hours had passed since they’d touched down on the island. “It’s not the light that’s the issue. We have the campfire and flashlights. The main issue is that I still haven’t come up with a possible replacement for a ferrule.”

  She had racked her brain trying to think what she could use as a substitute. “If only there was some kind of linkage, a chain—”

  An idea started to form. It was illusive at first, but in her mind she kept seeing a link. Mentally, she chased after the image trying to remember where she’d seen such a thing.

  “Sophia?”

  “I’ve got it!” She jumped to her feet.

  “Got what?”

  The platinum bracelet that Gibb wore was perfect. She could dismantle it, take out two links from the chain, position the broken cable through the links and hammer the chain so hard around the cable that the forged metal wouldn’t allow the cable to separate in flight. At least long enough to get them to the Island de Providencia. Of course, that meant destroying what was undoubtedly an expensive piece of jewelry. Her gaze flew to his right wrist.

  It was bare.

  “Where is it?”

  “Where’s what?”

  “That chain you wear around your wrist. If I take out a couple of links, they’d do as a makeshift ferrule. Where is the bracelet? You had it on last night.”

  Gibb’s hand went to his wrist and he muttered a curse.

  “Did it come off in the water while you were fishing? Let’s go look for it.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “I took if off this morning when I showered beneath the waterfall. It must still be there.”

  An extra blast of heat went over Sophia as she remembered that morning at the waterfall. She ducked her head so her eyes would not give her away. Suddenly, her body ached exactly as it had when she’d spied on him.

  “Let’s go find it,” she said, charging ahead of him into the jungle, but then made herself stop. She didn’t want him to know she knew where the waterfall was. If he ever found out she’d seen him...

  He came up behind her.

  “Which way?” she asked, hoping her nose would not grow from feigning ignorance.

  He took her elbow. “This way.”

  She dissolved at his touch. His bare chest was so close. All she’d have to do was reach out a hand and she could strum his defined ribs with her fingertips. A jolt of awareness electrified her. They were about to return to the scene of the crime so to speak.

  Gibb went ahead of her. The thin path through the thick foliage was too narrow for walking abreast. He pushed aside thick fronds, held them back until she’d passed by them. The waterfall pattered, the sound drawing them closer to it.

  She ran her gaze over his naked back. He was all sinew and muscles, straight out of a fantasy. She thought about the scar on his ch
est and she imagined stroking it with her fingers.

  The silk boxer shorts flowed like water when he moved, dark and silky. It made her think of dark nights and naughty deeds. Everything about him, from his intelligent gray eyes, to the sleek way he made her feel privileged to be in his extraordinary company.

  That was the problem of course. A woman like her would never be in the company of a man like him outside of a plane crash on a deserted island. This was fantasy. She knew that, did not believe that it could ever be anything more. As long as she kept that straight, anything that happened between them would be fine.

  Her gaze strayed down his spine to the waistband of his boxer shorts. The air fairly vibrated with his masculine energy and it stirred the thick sexual undercurrent that had been brewing between them for the past two weeks.

  The sound of the waterfall grew nearer. The afternoon sun peeped through the trees here and there, casting long shadows through the jungle.

  Gibb turned slightly, held out his palm.

  He wanted her to take his hand?

  Thrilling, absolutely thrilling, and scary to boot.

  He wriggled his fingers at her.

  Sophia accepted his hand and allowed him to lead her deeper into the forest. His grip was firm, warm. She felt secure in a way she’d never quite felt before. It was a fairy tale. Surreal.

  Keep your mind on what you’re doing. Get that bracelet, get back to the plane, work as fast as you can to repair that cable and you might be able to get out of here before sunset.

  And before she completely gave in to temptation.

  Her breath was already coming out labored in the humid air. It felt as if they were moving languidly through water. Time crawled as she became infinitely aware of everything—the feel of Gibb’s palm pressed against hers, the way the rippling muscles in his arm stood out, how she and Gibb seemed to be connected by so much more than just their hands.

  The waterfall became louder, along with the pounding of Sophia’s pulse as she recalled exactly what she’d done that morning when she’d watched Gibb. Heat swamped her.

  He parted the fronds in front of them and there it was, the waterfall, bathed in a swath of sun as colorful birds flitted through the sheltering trees. A shimmering rainbow glowed at the top of the fall, several feet above their heads. Cooling spray splashed her heated skin. Her gaze went to the spot on the opposite side of the pool where his clothes had been left folded on the closest rock.

  Gibb’s hands tightened around hers and Sophia’s stomach dipped and swirled. Was he reliving this morning’s events, as well? She held on to him. The lusty part of her was hoping for a kiss.

  But Gibb simply stopped, his eyes narrowed. Sharp, smart eyes that missed nothing. Intense eyes that belied his youthful age. He was accustomed to being cautious, guarded.

  Metal glimmered in the yellow light.

  “There it is!” she exclaimed. Salt. Disappointment tasted like salt in her mouth. Had she not wanted to find the bracelet? Sophia shook off the thought. No way. She was happy. Elated. Ready to get off this island in fact. Ready to be on her way.

  “Where?” he asked.

  “Right there.” She pointed.

  “I don’t—”

  But before Gibb could finish speaking, a black and brown spider monkey scampered down from a strangler tree, snatched up the bracelet with one hand, and with the toes of one of his long back legs swung away on a vine like Tarzan.

  10

  “GET THAT monkey!” Sophia shouted.

  Gibb was already on it, tearing through the dense foliage, Sophia on his heels.

  The monkey chattered, apparently enjoying the game.

  “Come back here,” Gibb yelled.

  The monkey grinned wide, flashed a row of teeth and dangled the bracelet a few feet above Gibb’s head, taunting him.

  Stretching his arm wide, Gibb jumped up, tried to snag the bracelet from the monkey’s paw. Futile. He knew it. But Sophia was watching.

  The monkey let loose with a gleeful noise and leisurely reached out with his other paw and grabbed another vine. Two quick swings, and he vanished from their sight.

  “Dammit!” Gibb swore.

  Sophia giggled.

  “It’s not funny.” He glowered.

  She slapped her hand over her mouth and struggled to look serious. “The situation is not funny, but you swearing at a monkey makes me smile.”

  “Well,” he said sheepishly, “I’m glad I amuse you.”

  “Also, when you jump...”

  “Yes?”

  “You, um...jiggle.”

  He put a hand over his private parts. “You weren’t supposed to be watching that.”

  A mischievous light sparked in her eyes. “Now what woman would not be staring at a guy with a fit body like yours?”

  Not to be outdone, Gibb raked his gaze over her body. She sure filled out those shorts.

  Sophia was the first one to look away. She moved ahead of him, pushed back fronds and vines and charged heedlessly into the forest. “C’mon.”

  “Get real,” he called after her. “We don’t stand a chance of catching him.”

  “I don’t know about you, but I’m not a defeatist. Think positive.”

  “Okay, I’m positive we don’t stand a chance of catching him.”

  The monkey chattered up ahead, unseen among the leaves.

  “See, he’s laughing at us. He knows we’re up a creek without a paddle.”

  Sophia kept going, her curtain of long black hair swaying against her waist as she moved. What an image. It only took her a few steps and she was out of sight, too.

  “Hey, wait up,” he said, rushing after her. The verdant air smelled of spoiled fruit. Gibb stepped on a rotten mango and it squashed messily beneath his foot. Ugh. He swiped his foot against moss growing on a tree root. He felt as if a hundred pairs of luring eyes were watching, sizing him up as a potential meal.

  The tropical forest was Sophia’s territory, not his. Give him a boardroom or a cocktail party over a wild jungle and jewelry-stealing monkeys any day of the week. That platinum bracelet had cost him five thousand dollars, but money wasn’t the issue. The real value of the “gent’s band” as the jeweler in Australia had called it, was what it represented—his bond with Scott.

  Yes, the infernal jungle was unpleasantly sultry and the monkey was annoyingly irritating, but what about the rainbows and waterfall and fishing and campfire s’mores? Had to take the good with the bad, right?

  He followed the leaves still trembling from her recent passage. Vines and twigs scraped his body. He wished he had on more than silk boxer shorts and Gucci loafers. He stepped over fallen trees, skirted an anthill crawling with black ants so big they looked like licorice jelly beans with legs, tread carefully over soft ground and startled when he almost touched a long green snake so camouflaged he didn’t see it until its quick red tongue flickered at hm.

  “Sophia?” Gibb called out. Where had she gone?

  “Shh,” she hissed.

  Slowly, Gibb inched forward through the vegetation. After some minutes, he found her standing perfectly still in a small clearing.

  “What is it?” he whispered.

  Sophia pointed upward.

  The spider monkey that had stolen his bracelet was perched high in the top of a tree and sitting beside him on the branch were two other monkeys.

  Gibb craned his neck. “All right, you found him. What now?”

  She tapped her forehead. “Let me think.”

  The platinum glimmered in the sunlight. One of the other monkeys scooted closer to the first monkey and tried his best to look completely nonchalant.

  “Maybe if we could tempt them with some fruit...” Sophia mused, stroking her chin with her thumb and forefinger.

  “They’ve got fruit all around them. Why would they come down here where we are?”

  “You got any better ideas?”

  He did not.

  Suddenly, the second monkey made a grab for the brac
elet. The first monkey screamed and shoved the second monkey who slipped from his perch. He chattered angrily at the first monkey, snatched up a vine and swung to a nearby tree.

  “A day at the zoo,” Gibb muttered.

  “Have you ever been to the San Diego Zoo?”

  That seemed a random reference. “Sure. Have you?”

  “My aunt Kristi took me there many times while I lived with her. I think she thought that seeing all the animals would keep me from being homesick.”

  “Did it? Keep you from being homesick?”

  Sophia shook her head.

  “It had to be hard for you so far away from home when you were so young.”

  She kept her eyes trained on the monkeys, but her shoulder muscles tensed. “It was fun, too, playing with my cousins. I missed them when I returned to Costa Rica.”

  “How long did you live with your aunt and her family?”

  “A little over a year.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

  It was clearly a tender topic and he wasn’t sure why. He should probably stop quizzing her, but she was so fascinating that he wanted to know everything about her. “How was it that you came to live with your aunt’s family?”

  She paused for so long that he thought she wasn’t going to answer. “Never mind,” he rushed to say. “It’s none of my business.”

  “My mother died of bacterial meningitis when I was twelve.”

  “Ah, Soph, I’m so sorry.” Now he felt like a jerk for being nosy. “That had to be tough.”

  Sophia shrugged, but her eyes were sad. “It was a long time ago, but I still remember that zoo. I loved the monkeys most of all because they were so much like people.”

  “Funny,” he said, “that you liked the zoo when you were raised among animals in the wild.”

  “Here’s the thing. I took my home for granted until I went to the zoo. It was only then that I recognized that not everyone was as privileged to see these beautiful creatures in their natural habitat. Going to the zoo made me feel so very lucky and I’m thrilled there was such a wonderful place for people to come and see animals that they might otherwise never have the chance to see.” Her face took on a pensive quality that made him feel as if he were the most deprived man on the face of the earth.