Authors: Tabitha A Lane
The driver had the radio on and
was singing along to a song there seem to be popular everywhere in the world
right now. He was murdering it. The heavy air smelled of flowers and spices—so
different from home.
Why am I doing this?
Nerves
fluttered in her stomach, and not for the first time, she tried to examine her
motives dispassionately. When Jasper had laid out his terms for screen testing
Sholto, she’d experienced a flare of excitement. Excitement to be out of the
office, out of England. Surviving on a desert island had always been on her
bucket list—the years of camping out and living off the land with her father
had been some of the best times of her life. Away from civilization, the
worries of the world faded.
The month’s jungle survival
training with Abe Kingston had edged it up a notch. They’d had to deal with a
hostile environment with limited resources—and Abe hadn’t gone easy on her, he’d
pushed her every step of the way. She’d felt more alive than ever before.
In the past while, she’d been
bogged down with the everyday. Drowning under a sea of emails, and locked in a
spiral of all-consuming work. Apart from the Friday nights with Cam, she’d
retreated from the world. She was only thirty-two, but she felt fifty.
The incident with Joel had scarred
her, made her afraid to trust a man again. She’d hidden that truth from
herself, but when the possibility of escaping civilization appeared, she faced
facts.
She was living half a life. Nine
days isolated in paradise would be good for her—would help her to reconnect
with her inner self and kick her off the hamster-wheel of work, sleep, work she’d
been stuck on. And Cam was right. She needed to be able to be with a guy again,
without fearing he would become dangerously obsessive.
She breathed in the warm air
wafting through the open window and closed her eyes. Maybe she should have
given more thought to the fact that she wouldn’t be alone in paradise.
She’d spent a month in the jungle
with Abe, and even though he was single and attractive, she hadn’t felt a
fraction of the heat that had coursed through her veins the last time she’d
seen Sholto.
“We’re here, Miss.” The car came
to a halt. Max opened her eyes to see that the driver had pulled up outside a
hotel facing the waterfront.
Sholto spotted Max the moment she entered the hotel. He was
seated in the lobby, drinking his second cup of coffee that morning as the
automatic doors slid open and she sauntered into the lobby.
Without looking left or right Max
headed straight for the reception desk. She looked different from the last
time. Her long slender legs were covered by serviceable khaki cargo pants, and
she wore sturdy hiking boots on her feet. A buff colored, cotton shirt was open
at the neck, revealing a white tank underneath.
Sholto drained his coffee and
stood up.
She must’ve caught his movement
from the corner of her eye, because she raised a hand in greeting, said
something to the reception clerk and walked over.
“Hi.” Her mouth curved in a smile.
Instinctively, she leaned in and brushed her lips across his cheek.
“Good to see you.” He’d been
thinking for days about being alone with her. Dreams of walking on soft sand, peeling
off their clothes to walk into the sea had quickly become X-rated, naked
explorations of each other’s bodies. The touch of her mouth on his skin fired
those dreams back to life in an instant. Would she look the same as he
imagined, bare and wet?
Being alone with her would be
torture if he had to keep his distance.
She stepped back and stared up at
him.
Her face was scrubbed of makeup.
Her hair was fastened into two braids, and she wore no jewelry, not even a
watch. Very few women could pull off that look, but she looked fresh, young and
gorgeous. Excitement sparkled in her eyes and seemed to surround her as a
tangible thing.
She handed over a small backpack. “These
are all the things you’re allowed to take to the island.” A larger bag lay on
the floor next to her. “These are mine.” She grinned. “I have way more stuff
because I don’t have anything to prove, I’m just along for the ride. Are you
ready to go?”
“Yes. The hotel stowed my luggage,
and locked my documents in the safe.” He shoved his hands into his pockets.
She grinned. “Are you sure you
want to do this? This is your last chance to back out.”
“I’m ready. Let’s go.”
She hefted the larger bag,
rejecting his offer to carry it for her. He walked by her side out of the
hotel. The heat hit him instantly, wet heat laden with humidity. He tanned
easily, but… He cast a glance at Max, noting her pale skin.
“We need to cross the road.” She
reached for his hand. “What?” Her head tilted to the side. “You’re frowning.”
His fingers curled around hers as
they stood at the side of the busy road. “You’re so fair—you’ll burn up under
the sun without some protection.”
“I have sunscreen, but you’ll have
to be careful. The rules were clear: you can only bring the items Smith had. Jasper
made one exception, the script, so you can be prepared for the audition at his
hotel when we leave the island. Of course, if we manage to find salvage on the
island, we can use that too.” She looked left, then right, and stepped into the
road, tugging him along with her. “They’re waiting for us at the harbor.”
The moment they’d crossed the road
she let go his hand.
“So you’ve done this sort of thing
before.”
She shot him a glance. “Yes, I did
a month’s survival training with Abe Kingston, but I’ve been camping out and
living off the land with my father since I was a kid.”
“Isn’t he a clergyman?” He
remembered some vague connection to her and the church from their schooldays.
She shook her head. “My father was
an accountant. By the time I started school he’d retired.” She spotted his
surprised look. “He was a lot older than most of the dads at school. He’s
eighty now. My mother is the church connection—she’s the vicar.”
“Unusual.”
“Oh, I was unusual at school okay.
Older parents, daughter of the vicar, handmade clothes…I was never going to fit
in.” She didn’t look upset about it. “I love being a grownup so I don’t have to
deal with that shit any longer.”
They were walking along the pier
now, toward a sleek white speedboat. A man seated inside waved, then jumped out
onto the weathered planks before them. “Miss Max?”
She nodded.
“Welcome!” He waved a hand to the
boat. “I’m Adam. I’ll take you to the island.”
*****
The heat of the sun beat on the top of Max’s head. The
speedboat sped through the clear, pale green water, churning up lacey white
foam in its wake. Sholto sat close to her on the burgundy leather bench, so
close their legs touched. His legs were parted, and his hands rested on his
thighs.
She swallowed, and swiped her
tongue over her dry lips, tasting a trace of salt.
In the week since they’d met, she’d
managed to convince herself the attraction couldn’t have been that powerful,
that her memory must be faulty. But she’d been wrong. She dealt with men on a
daily basis, rich men, powerful, attractive men, but none of them made her
tingle with awareness as Sholto did.
She edged away from him a fraction
and trailed her hand in the water.
There was a touch on her arm. She
turned to find Sholto leaning close. “How far is it to the island?”
“Apparently the trip will take
about an hour.” The sea was dotted with islands. “The island we’re visiting is
private and uncharted. No one will find us there.” She unzipped her bag and
pulled out a heavy satellite phone. “Jasper conceded that we should have this
for emergencies, and I have a spare charged battery in reserve. We shouldn’t
need it though. Nine days is barely long enough to get into trouble.”
“I don’t know about that…” Sholto’s
grin made her knees weak.
“We
won’t
get into trouble.
This is business, remember?”
“There’s no reason it has to be
just business, though, is there?” He spoke quietly, so the boat captain couldn’t
hear. “We’re both adults, and we’re attracted to each other.” He stroked a hand
down her arm.
Max stared at his mouth, then
glanced up to see him watching, amusement evident in the green depths of his
eyes. Eyes the color of the water they sped across.
“You won’t try to deny it, will you?”
“I’m not denying it.”
His eyebrows rose.
“But you and I are no good for
each other. I’m not the sort of woman you need.”
His mouth curved in a grin. “Oh, I
think I’d have to disagree with you there.” He leaned in and whispered in her
ear, “You’re precisely what I need right now.” His lips brushed her neck. A
soft caress, but one that filled her with heat.
Right now.
That was the
operative phrase, wasn’t it? A temporary affair—a momentary diversion. A chance
to slake the desire that had taken her over since he’d come back into her life,
and a chance to safely lower herself back into the casual dating pool. It didn’t
have to mean any more than that. She could pretend outrage, but she’d made an
appointment with her doctor and had a contraceptive implant inserted in her arm
just in case she decided to sleep with him in the next few days. If she denied
she wanted him she’d be the biggest hypocrite in the world.
“So your plan is that the moment
we’re alone we rip each other’s clothes off and fuck?”
Satisfaction trickled through her
at the look on his face. She’d shocked him.
“Crude—but yeah, it crossed my
mind.”
“Just because I’m there, right?
The only woman for miles.”
His arm snaked around her and he
pulled her close. “Not because you’re the only woman for miles. Because I’ve
been hard for you since I touched you at the premiere.” His mouth lowered,
bringing his face so close, it blotted out the sun, and narrowed her world to him,
and him alone. “Kiss me.”
He could have just touched his
mouth to hers, but instead, he gave her the choice. For a split-second, Max
considered. She could keep her distance. Reject him with a smile. Or…
Screw it.
A tiny movement and
the die was cast. She tilted her chin, and leaned in to press her mouth to his.
With a groan, his lips parted and his tongue invaded. His hand cupped her face,
holding her in place as he kissed her more thoroughly than anyone ever had. Her
eyes were closed, blocking out every other form of stimulus. She felt as though
she was on a surfboard, speeding through the water at the whim of the elements.
Carried away on a wild ride over which she had no control. She wanted to be
closer, wanted to climb up and straddle…
“Melati Island!” shouted the
captain.
Max pulled back with a gasp. She’d
forgotten where they were—that they weren’t alone.
The hand cupping her face fell
away, and instead, Sholto curved his arm around her shoulders. “Wow.”
He wasn’t talking about the
island. His gaze was firmly on her reddening face.
*****
The island was so small it looked as though it could be
traversed in a day. White sand. Clear water. Picture postcard. The speedboat
slowed as it travelled over shallow water, then Adam cut the engine. The splash
of waves lapping against the hull was the only sound.
Adam leaped into the crystal
water, and tugged the boat to shore. Max took off her shoes, grabbed the bag,
and stepped into ankle deep water. Sholto did the same. Fine sand stuck to his
feet as they walked from the water. He breathed in warm air, redolent with the
scent of salt, of trees, of damp leaves and the dark jungle interior.
“Thank you, Adam.” Max shook the
man’s hand.
“No problem, Miss Max.” Adam
pointed to a large rock with a white blaze painted on top. “This is the meeting
place. In nine days, I’ll be here to pick you up. I’ll make a noise.” He took
an air can bullhorn from his pocket. “You’ll hear it all over the island, but
better to be close by, just in case.”
She nodded.
“The phone’s working?”
She rooted in her bag and checked
the satellite phone. “Yes.”
“Okay.” Adam thumped Sholto on the
back. “Have fun!”
He waded back to the speedboat,
fired up the engine, and in a few moments was just a speck in an ocean of blue.
Sholto wanted to kiss her. To wrap
his arms around her, and take her on the sand. But Max was a flurry of
activity. She started away from the beach, toward the point where the jungle
met the sand.
She glanced at him over her
shoulder. “We’ll set up two camps.” She was all business. “I don’t know how
high the tide comes.” She stopped to examine a wavy line of tiny shells. “I
guess about here, but we should make camp higher, just in case.”
She was cute in Sergeant-Major
mode, so he let her take charge and followed her into the shade of the tree line.
She dropped the bag and examined
the ground. “Okay, let’s set your camp here.” She picked up a dry branch, palm
leaves curled and brown, and swept the ground with it. “First, we need to make
sure there are no insects lurking where you’re going to sleep.” She pulled two lethal
looking long, slender machetes out of the bag, and handed one over.
“Did John have one of these?”
She nodded. “He found one
abandoned on the island. This parang is new, so it’s sharper than the one he
found, but it’s within our guidelines.” She walked to a nearby tree and slashed
off a leaf frond. “We’ll use these to make your shelter.”
“And yours.”
She shook her head. “I’ve brought
a tent.”
“Oh, you have, have you?”
“Like I said, Kincaid, it’s your
fantasy, not mine. Mine includes a nice dry tent, whisky and hard candies—which
I won’t be sharing.”
He frowned. “Or eating in front of
me, if you know what’s good for you.”
She laughed. The woman was a
goddamn tease.
He looked up at the sky—it must be
mid-afternoon by now. “We need to find a source of water, check out the island,
and find some food.”
She considered for a moment. “Okay,
watch carefully. I’ll start you off on shelter building. First we split the
leaf.” She cut the rib, and pulled the two halves apart. “Then we weave the
fronds together, to form a rain barrier.” She handed him half the leaf and
demonstrated how it should be done. “You keep doing that, and I’ll cut some
bamboo for the support structure.”
“I can do that.” Slashing bamboo
won over weaving leaves, any day. He was strong, whereas she looked as though
chopping bamboo would do her in.
She raised an eyebrow. “As can I.
Don’t give me any of that sexist bullshit.”
“It’s not as though I’m holding a
goddamned door open for you. I just thought you’d appreciate—”
“Your superior brawn?” She
softened the words with a smile. “Look, I know exactly what I’m looking for.
How long I need the segments to be. I could waste time showing you, or we could
work smart. Which means I get the bamboo, and you weave.” She flipped back one
of her braids. The sun glistened in her hair. She ran a hand down her khaki
pants. “Okay?”
“Okay, deal.” Sholto sank onto the
ground and started to braid the leaves.
“When you’ve done those, could you
cut another couple from the tree? We’ll need to create a base.”
“Sure.”
“Great.” With the parang gripped
tight, she walked into the jungle.
The woman was a veritable
chameleon. At the premiere, she’d been classic Hollywood glamour: perfect hair,
smooth, tanned skin, long polished fingernails and perfect makeup. Wrapped in a
dress that accentuated her curves. At his hotel, she’d been business Barbie,
hair down, subtle makeup, heels high enough to showcase her legs, but low
enough to walk across the room without stumbling. And today she would give Lara
Croft a run for her money.
Today’s Max was unadorned, strong,
and capable.
He was hot for all three of them.
Which was why he’d broken the
rules. There was no way in hell he would be stuck on the island for nine days
with enforced celibacy thrown into the mix. The kiss on the boat had revealed
she wasn’t as indifferent to him as she might like to pretend. She’d set the
ground rules by insisting on separate sleeping quarters, but if she should
change her mind, he was prepared.