“In your dreams,” she called after his receding figure, using her favorite Americanism. She smiled smugly to herself for a moment, then turned to see the horrifying sight of a cameraman filming her. Despite swearing she was never going to notice them, she simpered repulsively and waggled her fingers at the camera. “I was just joking,” she explained.
The cameraman leaned out from behind the camera lens and cocked an eyebrow at her.
She turned away and sighed. This was going to be another one of those days.
“Why are you doing this?” Hero demanded as she clambered aboard the fishing boat assigned to take out the sixteen people for date of the morning—fishing.
“We have an agreement,” he said without looking at her, bent over a struggling Jesus. The cat twisted, forcing a buckle to slip between Adam’s fingers. “Damn!”
“I cancelled our agreement, if you recall,” she said coldly. “I was quite clear about it.”
“Insultingly so,” he agreed, still bent over the cat, wrestling to organize a series of belts and buckles around the rotund furry body.
“I just want it understood that I am acceding to this date under protest.”
“Consider it understood.”
“I want it perfectly clear that the whole thing was your idea, and not mine.”
“I will hold myself entirely to blame for any consequences of the date if it will make you feel better.”
“Good.” She moved closer. “I apologize if I've insulted you. I simply wished to make myself clear.”
“Oh, you've succeeded there, have no fear,” he told the top of Jesus's head as he struggled to reach a recalcitrant buckle. “Stand still, cat!”
“Well…good. What is it you're doing to Jesus?”
Her lovely face came into view as she squatted next to him, stroking the cat on the top if his head.
“Putting his life jacket on. He's in a bit of a snit because I made him leave Gecko behind, and he's punishing me by refusing to wear his flotation device.” He glanced up at her, caught the ghost of a smile on her lips, and smiled in return. “The things I do for this cat, huh?”
Her gaze dropped. “Something like that.”
He got the last buckle snapped into place and stood up, straightening the lurid orange-and-blue feline life jacket and giving Jesus a pat on the shoulder. “Stiff upper lip, cat. Gecko will be waiting for you when you return.”
Adam slipped on a pair of mirrored sunglasses, smiled cheerfully at the camera when it was pointed at him, and spent the twenty-minute boat ride out to a secluded lagoon watching Hero. She scratched Jesus's ears, ignored the cameramen, and sat by herself at the back of the boat, staring into the water. She did everything, in fact, but look at him. That gave him the time to watch her, and to try to figure out how the devil he was going to straighten out the mess he'd made of things.
The ship pulled alongside some trees hanging over the water before he'd come to any conclusion.
“You're free to fish anywhere in the lagoon,” one of the show's assistants told them. “We have floats available if you want to do it from off shore.”
“Shore or float?” Adam asked Hero, holding out a fishing pole for her.
She grimaced. “Shore.”
“Shore it is.” He gathered up Jesus and the fishing gear, and slipped over the side of the boat, wading to shore to deposit the cat and gear on a shady rock. “Stay put.”
Jesus gave him a disdainful one-eyed glare and proceeded to lick his hind end.
“You're next,” he said as he waded back to the boat where Hero was looking indecisively at the water. Several other people were wading ashore, claiming spots up and down the lagoon. The camera crew and sound people carefully held their equipment above their heads as they headed for shore.
“What?” She looked up, startled at his words. “I'm next for what?”
He stood next to the boat in waist-high water and held out his arms. “I'm the ferry to the shore. Put your arms around my neck.”
She stared at him, horror mingling with disbelief in her beautiful grey eyes. “You can't be serious!”
“Never more so. Come on, if we don't get to it, all the fish will be caught.”
She wrung her hands. “You can't carry me.”
“Why not?”
She looked around quickly, then leaned forward over the edge of the boat, allowing him a delicious view down her loose tunic. “I'm too heavy.”
He rolled his eyes. “You're not too heavy.”
“Shush!”
He lowered his voice. “Hero, you have three choices: you can stay on the boat and not get any points, or you can wade ashore yourself, or you can let me carry you the ten feet it'll take to put you on solid ground.”
She wrung her hands even harder, then raised her chin and reached for him, stepping over the rail of the boat to the outer ledge. “If you drop me I'll never forgive you,” she whispered as he slipped an arm behind her legs, swinging her away from the boat.
“You mean like this?” he asked as he released her for a moment.
“Adam!” she shrieked, clutching him, then scowling something fierce when he started laughing. He carried her to shore with her scolding him every step, and knew as he set her on the rock that whatever it took, whatever he had to say to convince her, whatever acts of bravery and heroism and valor she demanded he perform, he'd perform, all because he had to have her. She was the woman meant for him.
The problem was to get her to recognize that fact.
“So,” he asked a short while later, leaning back against the rock and watching the float on his line bob merrily in the waves. “This isn’t such a bad date, is it? Better than that horrible one yesterday.”
Hero look like she didn’t want to ask him, but she did. “The movie?”
“No, the other one. The shopping-for-shoes one. I don’t know what you did, but the woman who was with me insisted on modeling every single pair of shoes the shop had and asking for my opinion on each. It was a horrible experience. I’ve never thought up so many adjectives in my life. How you women can take a simple act like buying a pair of shoes and turn it into a two hour torture session is beyond me.”
His comments riled her up, just as he knew they would. “I quite enjoyed my afternoon date. The gentleman I was with had particularly good taste in espadrilles.”
“Honey, a man who spends two hours giving you advice on shoes has only one thing on his mind.”
She rustled around in the large purse she carried everywhere with her before looking up. “A shoe fetish?”
Adam shook his head, fighting a smile. “Let’s just say I bet he’s trying to get you somewhere—and it isn’t into a good pair of shoes. Hey, I think I have a nibble.”
“Oh really?” Hero pulled a small can out of her purse and turned to face the water. Adam leaped to his feet when a loud blast startled everything within, he was guessing, a five mile radius.
“What the hell is that?” he swore, dropping his fishing line and lunging for her.
She danced out of his reach, holding a small can with a white plastic horn behind her. “It’s my air horn.”
He was too quick for her. Snagging her arm and grabbing the air horn before she knew what he was doing.
“Your what?” He stared at it as people up and down the lagoon shouted and called to each other. Adam yelled to a fast approaching Eden assistant that it was all right, just a mistake and nothing more. A cameraman and sound woman trailed after the assistant.
“Why on earth do you have an air horn?” Adam asked her before they were set upon with questions.
“You obviously have not noticed, but I’m a vegetarian.”
He stared at her. “I had noticed, and so…?”
“I do not eat fish. I do not condone the slaughter of fish for sporting purposes. Hence, the air horn to scare them away so you won’t catch them. I couldn’t possibly have the death of a fish on my conscious as a result of our date.”
He stuffed the air
horn in the roomy pocket of his knee-length shorts, shaking his head and muttering to himself before turning a bright smile on the cameraman as he puffed his way up to them. He explained the mistake to the assistant, apologized, and tried to look like he was having a great time.
“You really are a terrible actor,” Hero told him once the crew had scurried off to film one of the couples who had fallen off their float and were floundering around in the water trying to retrieve the woman’s missing bikini top. “No one will believe you’re having a good time. You look like you want to strangle someone.”
“I wonder who that could be,” he said with a tight smile as he leaned back against the rock, forgetting the air horn he’d securely pocketed. The sudden sensation of an icy blast hitting his genitals coincided with another ear-shattering blast, causing him to jump at least three feet straight off the ground, and whirl around clutching at himself.
“Air horns gain their power from compressed carbon dioxide,” Hero said helpfully as she watched him fall to his knees, both hands cupped protectively over his groin. “I assume that sounded in the close proximity of flesh, you might feel a certain sensation of…shall we say discomfort?”
“You might say that,” Adam said, his voice sounding rather like he were chewing on gravel. “The words ‘henceforth not able to father any children’ also come to mind.”
Hero giggled.
Adam relaxed despite his frozen testicles attempting to suck up inside his body. If she could giggle, he had a hope that all could be made right. All he had to do was to make her see herself through his eyes, to show her that she was beautiful and warm and smart, and that he had only the most honorable of intentions toward her.
In other words, he had to pull off a miracle.
He watched her wade knee-high in the sun-warmed water, laughing at his cat when Jesus followed her from the safety of dry land. Adam could only think of one way he was going to have his miracle.
“Sorry, old boy,” he said softly, smiling as Hero tossed a piece of seaweed to Jesus. “I think those prosthetic balls of yours are just going to have to wait a bit longer. This is even more important than restoring your manhood.”
Hero was ecstatic as she skipped down the stone path toward the ballroom. The last three days had been blissfully wonderful, all because of Adam. He had been attentive to her at every opportunity, sitting with her at dinner, laughing with her when they met during the day, teasing her, talking to her, and best of all, kissing her every night outside her cabana. He hadn't made love to her yet, but she knew it was inevitable. His constant, unfailing interest in her, his gentle patience, and unstinting devotion, had turned her anger and uncertainly toward him into something that made her heart soar.
Once or twice it occurred to her to wonder why he was spending every available moment with her and none following Sally—not to mention the question of just why he had been hired to follow Sally in the first place—but she pushed the question to the back of her mind. Sally had probably told him off again, and he was wisely keeping his distance. It certainly didn't seem to bother him, and Lord knew she was enjoying every second they spent together.
The truth was, she was most definitely in love.
Hero giggled like a schoolgirl; she was so eager to see Adam again, to have another date. Everything was looking wonderful—her dates with other men were pleasant, but not thrilling, and both Adam and she had full points for every event, ensuring they'd make it to for the next round. Every evening she sat up in her cabana and worked late into the night on her story, much happier with it after she changed the focus from poking fun at Yanks desperate for love to one that reflected the reality of dating in today's world, and the intrepid few who went the extra distance—like becoming a contestant on a reality dating show—to find that special person, that someone marvelous enough to spend the rest of their lives with.
Someone like Adam.
Hero sighed happily, then giggled at her sigh, then giggled at her giggle as she raced into the ballroom. The announcement was being made about the day's events. She couldn't remember what was on the day's schedule for dates, but she was confident that as it was the gentlemen's choice, Adam would pick whichever date would allow them the most time together.
The show host, Asterisk, was doing his usual routine, relating some of the more memorable comments on the confession-booth tapes, making the audience laugh over amusing incidents during the previous day's dates—Hero's air horn adventure had even made it into his morning routine—and generally setting the crowd up for their day in paradise.
She stood to one side and searched the crowd for Adam, finally spotting him and Jesus at a table across the room. He was evidently watching for her, because he lifted his hand in greeting. She smiled in return, and leaned against the cool wall, watching without listening as the Eden producer expounded about some point or other. Whatever it was, it didn't matter. Nothing could possibly matter when she was so very happy.
“Hero?”
Sally's voice pulled her out of the daydream involving Adam and that big bed in her cabana. “Good morning, Sally. How are you?”
Sally looked nervous, chewing on her lower lip and casting a quick glance over her shoulder. Evidently Hero had missed the whole of the morning announcements, because the men and women were separating into either side of the ballroom in preparation for pairing off for the day's dates.
“Hero, there's something I want to talk to you about. Something…well, something that I shouldn't have done.”
Hero's attention switched from admiring Adam as he approached to the smaller woman in front of her. “You didn't say anything to the television show people about Adam, did you?”
Sally's frown deepened. “No. He's left me alone these last few days; I told him if he left me alone I wouldn't expose him. This doesn’t have to do with me, not really, you see…oh, it's confusing…”
Hero, relieved as soon as she knew Adam was in no danger, gazed over Sally's shoulder and smiled as Adam and Jesus strolled up. “I'd be happy to talk to you at lunch, Sally.”
“Morning Sally,” Adam said politely, his eyes only for Hero, even when Sally muttered something inaudible and moved off. A warm kernel of pleasure formed within her. How could she have ever doubted his sincerity? Oh, to be sure, he still had silly notions about her admitting she was attractive, but she hadn't once seen a look of distaste or pity on his face when he kissed her. “Hero, as always, you look lovely.”
She blushed gently and beamed at him as he chatted politely when they were joined by Phillip, a man she had dated the day before. Phillip was interested in another woman, and posed no threat to her peace of mind. He certainly wasn't anywhere near as fascinating as Adam.
“I thought you'd prefer the first one over the second, since we can take a lunch along,” Adam was saying to her. She dragged her mind back to the present and smiled. He was no doubt talking about the day's dates. Anything that would extend her time was all right by her!
“Absolutely,” she said under her breath, uncaring what she agreed to. Perhaps, she mused as she admired him as he talked to Phillip and another woman, sheepishly declining the opportunity to offer the woman advice on the best way to find her G-Spot, perhaps Adam was one of those men who liked fleshy women. There were some men like that, or so she had heard. She'd never met one, but Adam was unique. If anyone would be able to overlook her obvious flaws in the body department, she was sure he would.
Adam grinned at the G-Spot woman and leaned his head toward her when she whispered something in his ear, causing him to laugh out loud.
A small doubt burst out from nowhere, dampening the pleasure that glowed within her. What if he wasn't the sort of man who liked women of abundant form? What if he just didn't realize exactly what she looked like beneath the loose gauze of her jackets and cotton dresses and voluminous skirts? What if the sight of her body without clothes repulsed him? How would she survive such a devastating occurrence? A cold chill gripped her, making her almost sick to
her stomach as she watched him from beneath her lashes. He was laughing with another woman now, one who was squatting next to Jesus and his gecko. That woman was also fit.
“How about it Hero? Care to bowl with me this afternoon?” Phillip was asking her.
She smiled wanly, fighting down the uncertainty that roiled within her. There was only one thing she could do—she'd just have to make sure that Adam never saw her naked. If they made love—and she fervently hoped they would very soon—it would simply have to take place in the dark. “I'd love to, Phillip.”
“Great. Well, guess I'd better go get suited up. Nancy, I'll see you down at Boat fourteen.”
The Jesus-stroking woman agreed, and said something about going to fetch her swim fins, then she, too, strolled out of the ballroom.
Adam took her arm and steered her out the double doors into the heat of the morning. “I thought rather than joining everyone else, we'd take advantage of Dead Man's Cove. I've already rented a sailboat, so if you go change now, I'll meet you down at the docks. We have the Calypso Sunset for the morning.”
She blinked at him. Sailboat? Change? Maybe she should have been paying attention earlier rather than daydreaming about him.
“Don't forget your snorkel equipment,” he called as he turned down the path toward his row of cabanas.
Snorkel equipment? A wave of horror crashed over Hero, causing her to stagger for a moment. Snorkel equipment? A sailboat? Change? As in…donning a swimsuit?
“Oh, dear God, no!” she moaned, blindly heading for her cabana. “He's going to see me in my swimsuit! What a ghastly turn of events!”
Chapter Seven
Hero was not one to face life's little trials with fluttering hands and cries of “Woe am I!” She had come prepared with supplies for horrific eventualities leading up to, and including, death and dismemberment, but in truth, she knew she'd rather face both than the epitome of horrors, the pinnacle of dread, the zenith of everything loathsome—appearing in public in her swimsuit.
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