A couple of strong strokes powered her along beneath the water. Though she wanted to open her eyes, she didn’t want the salt to sting. Her lungs started to burn and she burst from beneath the breakers, already feeling more awake and refreshed.
She looked across the beach to see Tyler standing beneath the palms, his hands on his hips. At his feet sat a little pile of coconuts, and a couple of the bottles they’d found the previous day.
Her throat constricted with thirst and her stomach rumbled. Breakfast.
Without thinking any further, she hurried from the water, eager to get some of that sweet flesh and cool coconut milk into her mouth and down her throat. She was still dehydrated and so hungry her stomach felt hollow, like it was crawling up the back of her throat.
She stepped out of the water, grabbed her t-shirt and shorts from the sand, and hurried back up the beach.
Tyler stood, staring at her. The material of both her panties and bra were soaked, clinging to her skin and leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. Her nipples, puckered from the cold of the ocean, poked through the lace of the bra. Even the small patch of curls at the apex of her thighs was easily distinguishable in the underwear.
His jaw tightened, his voice coming out in a low growl. “You shouldn’t be walking around like that, Charlie.”
“Why not?” She scowled. “I thought there weren’t any cameras here I needed to worry about.”
“It’s not cameras I’m thinking about.”
A shiver ran through her, but this time it was one of pleasure, tightening at her core in a throb. Was he saying what she thought? That he wouldn’t be able to control himself?
She couldn’t help the rush of excitement at the idea of Tyler losing control of the tough façade he seemed to hide behind all the time, of him just reacting, pushing her to the ground and forcing himself on her.
But she was too hungry and thirsty to think much more about sex now. “I just wanted some water and coconut.”
He glanced down at the pile, frowning slightly, seeming to have forgotten they were there. “Oh, right. I’ve got water boiling on the fire, and I’ll get the coconuts open. Just for God’s sake, cover yourself up, woman.”
Her underwear had already started to dry in the hot sun and tropical breeze which wafted through the trees, stirring the palm fronds above her so they sounded like the waves. She didn’t want to put her dry clothes on over the top of her damp underwear, but didn’t want to make Tyler uncomfortable either. Actually, she thought, screw that. She was perfectly happy making him uncomfortable—especially if he was feeling awkward about having her half-naked in such close proximity.
But all of his attention was now focused on getting the coconuts open and she didn’t want to distract him from that particular job. Standing around in her underwear when he’d specifically asked her not to only made her appear desperate for his attention.
With a sigh, she pulled on her dirty clothes.
Tyler used a combination of the sharp stick he’d skewered the crab with and a piece of rock that looked like flint. He used the stick to poke a hole where the eye of the coconut was at the top. Holding the nut between his knees, he twisted the stick back and forth, his brow furrowed in concentration. Charlie couldn’t help admire the tensed form of his biceps as he worked.
Suddenly, the eye gave way and the stick slipped down.
“Here,” he said, passing the coconut to Charlie. “Drink the milk from the hole and then I’ll crack it open.”
She lifted the shell to her lips and took deep, sweet gulps of the liquid contained within. She forced herself to stop before she’d drained the coconut.
“You have some too,” she said handing it back.
He took it with a smile that made her insides flutter. “Thanks.”
With the nut drained, Tyler used the sharp edge of the rock to hit it on the seam. The shell cracked open. Still using the rock, he scooped out the white flesh and they shared it between them.
Instantly, she felt better.
“The water just needs to cool down,” he told her, “and then it’ll be drinkable. I’ve got the next lot boiling, but we’re going to need to keep it on a rotation so we don’t run out. We’ll have to trek back up to the pools soon and get some more.”
“Is that where you went this morning?” she asked, glancing over at him.
“Yeah. I woke up a couple of hours before you, so figured I might as well do something useful.”
She tried not to feel stung at the implication that she’d been asleep and therefore useless.
With their stomachs full, and thirst sated for the moment, they sat together on the sand, looking out to sea.
Feeling content, she risked a glance at Tyler’s profile, but he didn’t share the expression of tranquility she’d felt sure was on her own features. Instead, he frowned and squinted at something farther down the shoreline, where the bay curved to vanish onto another part of the island—the opposite direction to where she’d gone the previous evening to catch the crab.
As she watched, he lifted a hand to shelter his eyes from the sun, craning his neck farther forward.
She didn’t like his expression. Something about the seriousness unnerved her. “What? What is it?”
“Something has washed up on the beach.”
Tyler pushed himself to his feet and Charlie followed. A deep dread settled in the pit of her stomach, though right at that moment she couldn’t have given the exact reason for it.
A large shape bumped up against the shore, only to be pulled out again by the movement of the ocean, and then washed back onto the sand.
“What is that?” she said, the hairs on her arms rising, despite the heat. “A seal or something?”
Tyler gave a slow shake of his head. “I don’t think so.”
Her heart rate picked up, panic slowly rising inside her. She started to walk across the sand, and then broke into a run, her stomach in her throat.
“No, Charlie, wait!” His voice came from behind her, and she heard his feet hit the sand as he gave chase.
She landed on her knees, the hot sand burning her skin as she skidded to a halt. But Charlie didn’t notice the pain. This close, there was no mistaking the shape. She’d seen it a hundred times on numerous crime and horror movies and television shows she’d watched, the way it lifted and bumped against the sand in the swell.
“Oh, no. Oh, please no.” She reached out and caught hold of the material floating around the thing, and pulled it out of reach of the breakers. With trembling hands, she gave it a shove, and rolled the body over.
Agatha’s blank, milky eyes stared back.
“Oh, God!” The stench hit her—rotten meat combined with seaweed and fish. She twisted away and found herself in Tyler’s arms, pressed against the expanse of his broad chest. The strength went out of her legs and she would have fallen had he not caught her. A strange keening sound emitted from her throat. This was real. It was real. Agatha and probably everyone else on the airplane were dead! She and Tyler were stuck here, alone, on a desert island.
His arms wrapped around her, his big hand stroking her hair. The world seemed to spin around her, the sand loose and mobile beneath her feet. Surely this wasn’t happening?
“Shh,” he soothed her. “It’s all right. Everything is going to be all right.”
She cried against him, unable to dispute the truth of their situation, something she now understood she’d been lying to herself about for the past twenty-four hours or more. God, Tyler must have thought she was such an idiot!
“Do you believe me now?” he asked gently, prying her from his body, his dark eyes searching her face. “This is real, Charlie.”
She pressed her lips together and nodded frantically, not trusting herself to speak. She’d left a damp spot on his shirt from her tears. She couldn’t bear to look down at Agatha, wishing the body would just disappear.
Poor, poor Agatha.
Charlie found herself relieved that at least th
e other woman didn’t have a husband or children at home who would be devastated by the news of her death. Not that Charlie would be the one to deliver the news if they never made it home.
Or, she reconsidered, perhaps she should be sad Agatha didn’t leave people behind. In fact, Charlie realized, other than her father, who would be sad to learn of her own death? She was too young for children—barely—but she’d always liked to think they’d be part of her future. A husband, a couple of kids, a cute dog to take out for walks. Was it too much to ask? Suddenly, the possibility of that future no longer existing for her sank in.
They might not get off this island alive.
Chapter Nine
Despite an overwhelming urge to run, screaming back up the beach to hide somewhere between the palms, Charlie had to pull herself together. Her whole body trembled from the shock of not only finding Agatha’s body, but also from the realization this whole thing was real. No cameras had been hidden in the trees. A production team didn’t lurk on a nearby island, ready to move her to a hotel when she’d decided she’d had enough.
She was trapped in a real life survival situation.
The trembling in her hands spread up her arms, down through her torso, and into her legs. Her whole body suddenly felt like it was on vibrate, a shaking she couldn’t control. The motion turned her insides to liquid, a sloshing not unlike the waves still crashing on shore, the same waves that had carried Agatha’s body. The same waves they could have drowned in.
Her lungs contracted, stealing her breath. Though she gasped the thick, hot air, she found herself unable to get any relief. The world spun in a slow circle around her, and she stumbled, unable to figure out where to put her feet to find solid ground.
“Charlie?” Tyler’s voice appeared somewhere in the background and she tried to focus on it, needing something tangible to hang onto.
His firm hand pressed against her back. “Sit down, Charlie. Put your head between your knees. You’re having a panic attack.”
Her body moved of its own accord, allowing Tyler to help her sit before she fell down. Her rear end connected with something hard—a fallen tree trunk—and the sand swam before her vision.
Tyler’s voice came, deep, slow, and soothing. “Focus on your breathing. Deep breath in, long breath out.”
But her lungs refused to comply.
“Like me, Charlie. Breathe with me.”
Though she sat on a tree trunk, with her feet planted apart, elbows on her knees, head hanging between them, she managed to lift her head. Tyler crouched in front of her. His dark eyes locked on hers and he breathed in an exaggerated motion, sucking in air and then blowing it back out between pursed lips.
Her breathing continued to come in gasps, but the longer she watched him, the more it slowed, until she eventually matched his own.
And they were breathing the same air.
Her heart rate slowed, and gradually she calmed down.
His hand touched her knee. “How are you doing?”
She nodded. “Better, thank you. Sorry to flake out on you like that.”
“No problem. You had a shock. I understand.”
He gave her leg a brief squeeze and got to his feet to head back over to her agent’s body.
Charlie took another shaky breath. Thank God she had Tyler with her. She’d never be able to cope without him by her side. She glanced toward the ex-Marine, to where he stood with his arms folded across his broad chest, looking down at Agatha’s body with a frown.
“We can’t leave her here,” he said, without turning his face toward Charlie.
She nodded in agreement, but her stomach turned at the idea of touching the body. She imagined how the dead skin would feel after having been in the water for twenty-four hours—cold and slick. Though she didn’t want to look like some fragile little girl, she didn’t think she’d be able to bring herself to touch her.
“I’m sorry, Tyler. I just can’t ...”
He shook his head. “It’s okay. I don’t expect you to help. You worked with her, and I realize this must be hard.”
One of the numerous knots that had tightened in her stomach since seeing the body loosened. Her voice came out as a whisper. “Thank you.”
He gave a grim nod.
Not even wanting to be nearby while he moved Agatha, Charlie got to her feet and retreated back up the beach to watch from a safe distance, the knuckles of one hand pressed to her mouth.
Tyler caught hold of both of Agatha’s wrists and pulled her up the beach, leaving a large, wet track in the sand. He dragged her into the line of trees at the farthest edge of their bay.
Torn between wanting to hide and wanting to help, she forced herself to walk back over to him.
“What now?” she asked.
He nodded toward the fallen palm fronds that littered the sand. “Let’s get her covered up.”
Even though the coverage was ineffectual against most things, at least it removed the body from sight. Together, they began to pile the dried, brown fronds over her body.
“We’ll bury her if it looks like we’re going to be here for any length of time,” he said as he worked. “Animals may be attracted by the body, and besides, it’ll start to smell in this heat after a day or two.”
A shiver wracked through her. “Shouldn’t we bury her anyway?”
“It’s not a good use of what energy resources we have. We’ll burn a huge number of calories digging a hole big enough and filling it back in, and right now we don’t have anything big enough to eat to replenish those calories.”
She struggled to think of things in such a simplistic way. “But it feels wrong to leave her here.”
“Our camp is far enough away for us not to smell her.”
Charlie stomach did an uncomfortable flip-flop and she stepped away, her hand pressed over her mouth. “Oh, God.”
He looked at her in concern. “Sorry.” He closed his eyes briefly and shook his head. “I don’t think sometimes. It’s easy to get hardened to seeing bodies.”
“You’ve been exposed to a lot of death?” she asked, glad to direct her attention from poor Agatha’s body.
“Too much.” His expression closed off, like shutters had fallen over his face.
He turned away from Charlie, and she got the distinct impression this part of the conversation was over.
Where has he seen too much death, she wondered. In the service, or had he been talking about something else?
She didn’t feel she had the right to probe any further, especially considering the circumstance. Instead, she continued to help him drag fallen palm fronds over and they covered Agatha’s corpse like a mat.
With her agent’s body now hidden, Charlie finally felt able to breathe again, though she had to force herself not to think about Agatha underneath all those branches, with God-only knew what kind of insects crawling over her, making a meal of her flesh. She shivered and turned away, starting to walk back down the beach. Tyler followed.
“How long do you think it’s going to be before they find us?” she called over her shoulder, wanting to think about something other than her agent’s rotting body.
He caught up and stopped at the water’s edge to wash his hands in the surf.
“I have no idea. Obviously we’re going to be missed, so there’s bound to be a whole heap of people searching. With you being a celebrity, and the show being popular, this sort of news won’t stay under wraps for long.”
His choice of words made her frown. “Why would it be kept under wraps?”
Tyler shrugged and straightened from the ocean. “This won’t exactly be great publicity for the television channel.”
“So you think they might be keeping it a secret?”
“It’s just a hunch. But that doesn’t mean they won’t have people out looking for us.”
“But not as many as if everyone was looking for us.”
He shook his head. “No, that’s true.”
“They’ll be able to find us pret
ty quickly, though, right? I mean, they knew where we were going, so won’t they just be able to track our route?”
“Yes, but I’ve no idea how far off course we drifted when we were in the sea. There are hundreds of tiny islands in this part of the ocean. They’re going to have to search each and every one of them.”
She thought of something. “What about the plane? Wouldn’t it have some kind of tracker? The tracker could give them an idea of where the plane went down, perhaps narrow the search a little?”
“Yes, but I expect the plane is at the bottom of the ocean. I doubt whatever tracker was on board was strong enough to penetrate a mile of seawater. And besides, we jumped before the plane went down. I’m not even sure how far the plane traveled before it crashed. We could be fifty miles or more from the crash site, and when you consider the size of a fifty mile radius search area, that’s pretty damn huge, and that’s assuming they even know where the plane went down.”
“But Agatha’s body washed up here!” she said, gripping onto any possibility of hope. “Surely that means the plane went down nearby.”
He shook his head. “No, it just means her body was caught up in the same current we were. Ocean currents can travel for hundreds of miles.”
Charlie’s shoulders slumped and her eyes pricked with tears. She blinked them away, not wanting to cry again. She needed to be strong to get through this and didn’t want Tyler to think he had to take care of her, as well as worry about his own survival.
She wondered if he had someone at home. Anyone who would be missing him? She glanced down at his hand. She saw no wedding ring, and no tan line marked his finger where there might have been a ring before this trip. Perhaps he had a girlfriend waiting at home, or even a couple of girlfriends. She didn’t think a guy who looked like him stayed single for too long. She filed it away as something to try to find out later. Right now didn’t seem like the right time to start inquiring about his love life.
The stress and adrenaline from finding Agatha had left her mouth and throat painfully dry. With this sort of heat, they needed to drink even more than normal, and right now all she’d had was a couple of stale mouthfuls of water and the juice of a coconut.
Dangerous Encounters: A Romantic Suspense Boxed Set Page 29
