For the past hour, her gaze had been continually drawn across the sand. Waiting for him. Watching for him with a twisting longing inside. She squeezed her hands together. Unclenched them to brush non-existent sand from her dress. Looked over again.
Her heart leaped as a slow-moving figure came into view. If she’d cared about game playing, she’d sit exactly where she was, and wait for him to reach her. Instead, she got to her feet and smiled wide.
He didn’t smile back. His intense gaze locked with hers, scorched her with its heat. His open shirt fluttered in the breeze and his trousers rode low on his hips, revealing the cut of toned muscles in his stomach, and the deep V arrowing from his hips.
Max’s breath feathered in and out of her parted lips.
His hair was wild, but the look in his eyes was wilder. When he stopped close enough to touch, her heart was racing like a metronome on speed.
“I…”
“Shut up.” With a growl, he speared his fingers into her hair and took her mouth. There was no tenderness, no soft teasing of her lips, just a raw, animalistic plundering that brought every atom of her being alive. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and breathed in his scent, dimly realizing how much she’d missed it, missed him.
Then his hands were at her shirt, peeling it from her shoulders to fall to the ground. He shoved off the shoestring straps of her sundress, and pulled it down to expose her breasts. His bristly beard tickled, then he sucked one hard nub into his mouth and rolled the other between his fingers, sending a bolt of sensation through her so powerful her knees almost buckled.
She gripped his shoulders. Arched her back and pressed into him, needing him closer, needing him in her aching core. Then, somehow they were on the ground, ripping off what remained of each other’s clothes. His thigh was between hers, creating delicious friction. He kneaded her breasts and his hot breath feathered across her throat, then he plunged his tongue into her ear.
“Fuck.” The word puffed out of her on a desperate breath. She felt like she was on fire. Like she couldn’t survive another moment without him inside her. “Fuck me, Sholto.”
He eased off her, grabbed a condom from his pants’ pocket, and ripped it open. “I’ve been dreaming of this for days.” His voice was gritty with need. “Dreaming of licking your sweet cunt, of making you lose it and scream my name when you come.” Quickly he sheathed his thick cock. “But right now I’ll die if I’m not inside you.”
She angled her knees up, and flipped her thighs open. Flattened her back to the ground and angled up her pussy to his cock. The brush of his hardness was so delicious, the way they bumped together in a sensuous slide made her moan.
He claimed her mouth, his tongue tangling with hers in a desperate dance. Notched his cock into her wet heat, and thrust hard.
There was desperation in his movements. Her eyes were open, but his were clamped tight shut, so different from the last time their bodies joined. His hands bracketed her face, holding her in place as his body pistoned. It was no slow seduction. No meaningful connection between two people, just raw, dirty, primitive, desperate sex.
Her fingers dug into his back, her legs wrapped around his waist. He bit her lip, his breath hot and wild on her mouth. She clenched her inner muscles, squeezing him tight enough to feel every inch of him filling her so totally, so completely. Shimmering shudders started at her core, flooding out to the tips of her fingers, the end of her toes.
As he muttered hot, filthy words of encouragement against her mouth, his cock slid in her wetness, hammered into her until there was nothing left but passionate, explosive release.
****
Holy shit. Sholto rolled off Max and dispensed with the condom. The past couple of days had been rough, but this—this was batshit crazy. The moment he’d seen her, standing there waiting for him, it was as if a switch was flipped and any civilized instincts were drowned out with the urgent need to have her. He’d never lost it like that before. Never cared so little about a woman’s pleasure.
He couldn’t even look at her.
Her hand landed flat on his chest.
He turned his head.
“Hi there. Did you miss me?” Her eyes were filled with warmth and laughter.
“I sort of…uh…” He couldn’t even string two words together.
She leaned over and pressed her lips softly to his. “That was fucking fantastic,” she whispered. “Exactly what I needed.” She trailed a finger between her breasts. “Let’s eat, then do it again.”
An incredulous laugh forced its way through his lips. “That wasn’t enough for you?”
“Oh, baby.” She did a funny, pouty thing with her mouth, and to his amazement his cock stirred again, something he would have judged impossible after the explosive sex they’d just shared. “I want to do that all night.”
“You’re amazing.” He pushed himself up on one elbow, snaked a hand to her neck under the swathe of blonde hair, and tugged her down to his mouth. Her lips were soft, and this time the kiss was tender and intimate.
After a few moments she edged away and smiled wide. “I better put the fish on to cook.” She dressed, and walked over to the spit sitting behind the glowing fire. “Help me with this, will you?”
His stomach was twisting in knots. “I’m really hungry.”
Her eyes widened. “When did you last eat?”
Would she understand? “I had a revelation, reading the script. The story is more than just learning the mechanics of survival. It’s about John’s inner struggle. I needed to try to experience that.”
She focused all her attention on him. Her unadorned face had never seemed more beautiful.
“At the beginning, he was in denial. He expected to be rescued any minute, so he didn’t search for water, didn’t look for food. By the time he faced the truth he was dehydrated and hungry. His weakened state lowered his defenses; he broke down and let terror in.”
She winced.
“I needed to get there. Get inside his head. So I haven’t eaten or drank anything for a couple of days.”
“Jesus!” She grabbed a bottle of water and forced it into his hands. “Drink. Now.” Her eyes blazed anger. “You…” Her hands shook. “No-one can survive in this climate without water. You could have done real damage to your body.”
He brought the bottle to his lips. The cool water trickled down his throat, more delicious than anything he’d ever tasted.
She sat close next to him, and touched a hand to his arm. “Slowly. Sip it.”
He’d gone beyond thirst, but now his body screamed for more, but he did as she asked, and held each mouthful of precious liquid in his mouth for a moment before swallowing slowly.
“When I left you I never expected you’d do something so stupid.” She crossed her arms. Her jawline was clenched, and her mouth flattened into a thin line. “How the hell did you think I’d feel if something had happened to you? If you’d gone unconscious, or worse?” A trace of panic was evident in the high tone of her voice. She blinked through a sheen of unshed tears.
He reached for her. “I’m fine.”
She pummeled his chest with close fists, but not hard. There was no intent to hurt. “I hope it was fucking worth it.” She breathed in deep.
He took another sip of water. “I never would have known how fantastic water tastes if I hadn’t done it. I couldn’t have got to where John went without experiencing the things he did.”
“So it was worth it?”
He draped an arm over her shoulders and pulled her in close to his body. “It was.” He brushed his lips over the top of her head. “And it’s over now. I promise to look after myself from here on in.”
“You damn well better.” She grasped his hand and wove her fingers though his, gripping tightly.
“You wouldn’t have been liable if I’d suffered any injury—you came as my companion, not my guardian. And help is just a boat ride away. You have the satellite phone…”
She glanced up at him through
a veil of dark eyelashes. “Are you really that dense? I care about you, not about whether I’m liable.” She shook her head and pulled her hand away. She walked around the fire. Then she stooped and picked up something.
“Catch.” She tossed him a banana. “This was supposed to be a surprise dessert for you, but I think you better eat it now. I’m going to fetch more sticks for the fire.”
*****
She had to get away from him for a moment. Because the thought of him denying himself water and sustenance had shaken her to the core. Their calorie intake had already been reduced since they arrived on the island—reducing it to nothing had been a dangerous experiment.
He’d done it to get inside Weatherly’s head. To identify as closely as possible with another man’s struggle. But the one thing both her father and Abe had drilled into her was that you never knowingly risked yourself when out in the wilds. The basic tenet of survival, the one, unbreakable rule, was to eat and drink. To recklessly risk your wellbeing for an experiment…
She slashed at the undergrowth. Picked up a handful of dry kindling.
He wasn’t stupid. It had only been a few days, with a clearly defined objective. She was right to be angry, but the other emotion that had filled her on hearing about his experiment had blindsided her, and even now, she struggled to get her feelings under control.
She’d been thrown into blind panic at the thought of losing him. The aftershocks still shuddered through her limbs. She breathed in deep. This was only ever supposed to be a stolen moment in time. An escape not just from civilization, but also from reality.
No future reality could exist in which she and Sholto were together. In a few days, they’d climb aboard that boat and leave the island and everything they’d shared on it behind on the beach. She was never supposed to care for him like this. Never supposed to want him so much that her heart pounded out of her chest every time he came into view.
“Hey.”
She turned.
“What is it?” He stepped close. Tilted her chin to stare into her eyes.
Her bullshit generator was broken. There was no mask to hide behind, no way to pretend any more. “I care about you. More than I wanted, more than I thought I would. I know this was just supposed to be a temporary thing, that it would be over when we left the island, but—”
His thumb brushed over her bottom lip. “It doesn’t have to be over.” The expression in his eyes was naked. True. “I don’t want it to be over.” He took the bundle of sticks from her arms. “Come back to the fire.”
As the dying sun streaked the sky pink and gold, they filled their bowls with sweet, white fish-meat and ate.
“He was called Joel. We’d been friends for months. Well, more than friends, we were lovers too, but it wasn’t exclusive. I didn’t think it was serious. Both of us were interested in exploring every aspect of our sexuality and we trusted each other.”
She glanced over. His expression was set, his jaw tight, as though he didn’t like hearing her words. But he jerked his head in a brief nod she should continue.
She swallowed. “We went to a sex party, and split up to explore different experiences.”
A growl issued from Sholto’s throat. He scowled, but didn’t speak.
“I hooked up with a woman, and Joel found us. I didn’t think anything of it, we’d had threesomes before, and he’d been fine with it. But he attacked the woman, he hurt…” Her throat closed. She swiped at tears.
“He hurt you?”
“He hurt my friends. He was obsessed with me. He was unstable. I never realized.”
Sholto pulled her between his legs.
She leaned back onto his broad chest and sighed as he enveloped her in his arms.
“I hate to think of you with anyone else.” His voice was deep and dark. He buried his face in her hair. “Where is he now?”
“He’s locked up in a psychiatric facility.” Guilt roiled in her gut. “I can’t help thinking if I’d realized how he felt, if I hadn’t…”
“You can’t blame yourself.” His arms tightened. “It’s impossible to know what’s going on in someone else’s head.”
He hitched up her shirt, and flattened his palm over her flat stomach. “Be clear. While you and I are together there will be no other lovers in either of our lives. I won’t share you.” His fingers stroked lower, then dipped to the juncture of her thighs. “You’re mine.”
“And you are mine?” Breathing was becoming increasingly difficult.
“I’m yours. Until either of us calls time on this relationship.”
Warm heat as his mouth pressed against her exposed neck. It was impossible not to turn in his arms, to fuse her mouth to his again.
He hitched her up onto his lap. His warm hand stroked from the nape of her neck to the base of her spine. She leaned into him, loving the feel of every part of their bodies in close contact.
“I want to spend every moment we have left on Melati making love to you.” He licked the seam of her mouth. “Starting now.”
Chapter Thirteen
They slept late. Sholto woke with his arm curled around Max, spooning her in a way he’d never done with anyone else before. He carefully eased away, and stepped out into the sunlight.
Last night had been incredible. After their first, frantic coupling, they’d spent hours exploring each other’s bodies. She loved it when he took her from behind, both of them on their knees as he slid in and out of her fast and hard. He loved her on top, riding him to orgasm with bouncing breasts, her face half hidden by her long blonde hair.
He ran a hand over his hardening cock. It wouldn’t be fair to wake her. They’d had very little sleep, and she would be sore this morning…
With regret, he dressed and slipped on his shoes. He snacked on a banana and drank his fill of water. Supplies were running low so he picked up the water bottles and the parang, and set off to the stream.
Forcing thoughts of Max away, he considered work. He was as prepared as he could be for the audition. There was only one logical passage to present: the scene where John Weatherly had broken down completely. He’d ranted at the sky, spoken to himself. It was a challenging scene for any actor—he’d been arrogant to presume he could just walk right out there and deliver the goods.
And for the first time, he acknowledged that Jasper had been right not to screen test him on the basis of his previous work. But being on the island had changed him. Shedding his mask, connecting with the painful memories of the past, and denying himself food and water had lowered his defenses. Allowed him to access a part of himself he kept tightly locked down.
At the stream now, he walked fully dressed into the clear water, submerging his entire body and head under the surface. God, what he’d give for a bottle of shampoo and a hot shower. But he’d have to wait. Max had cleverly organized the audition to take place at his hotel the moment they returned from Melati. He wouldn’t wash, shave or change his clothing until after he’d read for Jasper Watson and the casting director.
After that? For the past week he hadn’t allowed himself to think further than the audition. But there were other concerns he’d have to address, sooner or later. And after nine days of radio silence, he was pretty sure Larry would be desperate to reconnect.
He slicked water off his hair and beard. Being incommunicado was wonderful, but too soon he’d be hooked back into the matrix, bombarded by telephone, text, and email. As would Max—they’d talked a little about her business last night, in the hours when they weren’t having sex. Dovetailing their lives would be difficult, but necessary, because there was no way he was ready to let her go.
He filled the bottles, and picked up the machete. Breadfruit. Then checking the lobster pot. Another hard day’s work in paradise.
Halfway back to her, an alien sound cut through the silence. A raw alien sound, but instantly recognizable. An airhorn. Sholto broke into a run.
She was outside the tent when he reached her, struggling into her clothes. “It must
be the boat.” Her brow furrowed. “We haven’t lost track of time, have we? It’s not nine days already…”
“No.” He grabbed her hand and when the sound blared through the air again, they ran to to the spot where they’d landed on Melati.
The small white speedboat bobbed in the waves.
Adam stood on the beach, the airhorn in his hand. A wide smile spread over his face the moment he saw them.
“Adam?” Max took the lead. “You’re early.”
He nodded. “I’m sorry to cut short your stay on the island, Miss Max, but we received an urgent message for you.” He pulled a piece of paper from his back pocket and handed it over. “From your office.”
Max read. Her face paled.
“What is it?”
“It’s from my assistant.” There was a barely discernable shake in her hands. “My father had a heart attack. I have to leave.”
“Help me pack up everything, Adam.” Sholto slung an arm around Max’s shoulders, and directed his attention to the other man. “What arrangements have been made?”
“I was told to get Miss Max back to the mainland. Her assistant has organized tickets on the next flight out, which will go in three hours.”
They made it back to camp in moments. Sholto directed Adam down the beach to his camp with instructions to gather his belongings while they shoved Max’s things into a bag. “It’ll be okay, baby. We’ll be there soon.”
She rolled her lips together. Her movements were shaky, as though she was in shock, but she kept it together. “You can’t come with me.”
“What?” He grabbed her shoulders and rotated her around to face him. “What are you talking about? Of course I’m coming with you.”
She shook her head. “No.” She swallowed. “I don’t need you to. I’ll have time to shower and change before I catch the flight, and my assistant will have made arrangements for a car to take me to the airport and fetch me once I arrive in England.” She forced a weak smile. “She’s good with details. If I know her, she’ll be waiting for me herself the moment the plane touches down.” She looked up into his face with an expression of fervent determination. “You have to stay here two more days and make that appointment with Jasper as planned. If you leave with me now, there won’t be time to fly back out here for the audition—”
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