by Kimberly Nee
The long, low growl jolted Gabby from a fitful sleep. She jerked up, cracking her head against the low stone ledge, and swore loudly as pain burst inside her skull. The howl echoed in the cave and for a terrifying moment, she was convinced the beast responsible for that noise was in there with them.
Rubbing the lump on her head, she stared into the dusk. No. They were alone.
Diego stirred, groaned, then mumbled, “Who’s there?”
It was the first coherent sentence he’d spoken since shoving the coconut from his lips. She crawled over to him, and laid a hand on his forehead. Damp, but cool. His fever had broken.
“What are you doing?” he grumbled, his eyes closing again.
“You’ve been sick with fever for two days,” she murmured, trying hard not to smile at the wonderful rumble of his voice. It was almost music to her ears, and hopefully her trembling hand wouldn’t give away her sudden elation. “How do you feel?”
He licked his lips slowly and winced. “Thirsty.”
“Wait. I’ve water right here.”
“How—?”
“I’ve been putting aside emptied coconuts. They hold water quite well.” She scuttled over to the cache of filled coconut shells and carefully lifted one down.
Diego slowly sat up, taking the shell from her as she neared. He drained it in one long pull. “How many have you filled?”
“Including this one? Eight. I’ve gotten quite good at breaking them open.” A feeling of pride swept through her and she smiled as she fetched down another to hand to him. “And I’ve gathered about a thousand bananas. I’ve been making forays into the jungle daily and bringing back what I can carry.”
“Why not just eat the coconuts?”
She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like coconut, really. Milk’s about all I can stomach.”
He offered up a tired smile. “I hope you don’t mind bananas, then.”
“I don’t, but we’re going to have to find something a bit more sustaining than bananas. My breeches are getting terribly loose.”
He arched one brow, gazing at her over the curve of the coconut. “And what do you propose?”
“I don’t know. I’ve taken the dagger with me, but have yet to come across anything other than something that growls so loudly I have no desire to find out what it is.” At his long, steady stare, she added, “Why do you look at me like that? I told you about the growling thing before you took ill. Don’t you remember?”
His eyes clouded, but he didn’t answer her. Instead, he grumbled, “Something growls at you, you don’t know what it is, and yet you venture into that jungle unaccompanied?”
“What else was I to do?” she demanded, taking the empty shells from him to toss them over by the entrance to take with her on her next foray.
“Gabby, you need to think, that’s what you need do.”
She resisted the urge to scowl at him. His words were no less than what she expected him to say, but they galled her just the same. Galled and exasperated all at once. Was she supposed to just sit back and hope she didn’t die of thirst? Faced with that, venturing into the jungle seemed the lesser of the two evils.
“I did think. But we needed water and food. So I needed to do something about that. Thinking didn’t bring either to me, you know.”
Stretching his arms overhead, he let out a low sigh of appreciation and then got to his feet. Somewhat of a wince as he put some weight on his injured leg, but that was it. She sat back against the wall, her irritation forgotten as she stared at him with no little appreciation.
It was too easy to forget why she’d never wished to see him again, too easy to slip back into old habits. His almost kissing her the other night brought forth a turbulent mix of emotion, took her back to a time and a place she wasn’t at all certain she wished to revisit. Yet, at the same time, the memories weren’t altogether terrible, either.
Now they were trapped together, quite possibly forever. At one time, the very notion would have left her giddy and breathless with anticipation. But now, a very real fear tinged those same feelings. Fear of dying there on that godforsaken island.
Or worse, fear that she would, once again, fall under his spell.
To make matters worse, she wasn’t entirely certain which she preferred.
He moved to the cave’s entrance and dropped to his knees to crawl out. Gabby scrambled to her feet to follow. “Where are you going?”
“To the water,” he called back, his voice distant as he didn’t stop, but left the cave entirely.
“The water?” She hurried after him, squinting as she burst out into bright sunlight, and brought a hand up to shade her eyes.
It was hot and sticky, not a cloud in the crystalline blue sky to offer up a whit of relief from the sun’s blazing rays. Diego was halfway down the beach, and she froze as he stopped to strip off his shirt and dropped his breeches.
Her mouth went dry. God, she’d forgotten just how beautiful he was—how he was the very epitome of masculinity. Thick, heavy bands of muscle wove across his broad shoulders, down his wide back, where they tapered into a narrow waist. His skin was a dark bronze, smooth and chiseled. But as he stripped off the tattered breeches, his backside appeared—paler and round, as perfect as a statue carved of the finest marble. He was never one given to shyness or modesty and, as she couldn’t help her stare, she knew why. At ease in his skin, he didn’t hesitate as he limped into the surf, waded out and dove into an oncoming wave.
He surfaced, shoving his wet hair back, and turned to grin as she stood stock-still. He held her stare as he stood in water almost to his chest. She was fairly certain her jaw hung slack as he slowly emerged from the water. Any moment, and she would be reacquainted with the memory she carried of him and it did nothing to ease the wild flutter deep in her belly. Perhaps it was quite brazen, perhaps it made her something of a tart, but there was no denying he would offer up quite an eyeful.
Part of her wanted to just look away, as if unfazed by him. The other, stronger part would let her do no such thing. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.
Admit it, you want to see him naked.
Heat tickled her cheeks at that. Yes. That probably was the truth. But, if he was brazen enough to offer her such a view, why shouldn’t she look?
Surprise mingled with relief when he paused in waist-deep water. His deep voice carried on the wind as he called, “You might wish to be careful. I’d hate to see you break a leg tripping over your tongue, Gabby.”
She snapped her mouth shut and scowled. “Somehow, I doubt that will ever happen.”
Her hot cheeks burned hotter still as he nodded. “Of course not. You were staring at the water, perhaps?”
Bloody hell. She plunked down in the hot sand, crossing her legs and shrugged. “And if I was?”
“You’d be lying, and we both know it.”
That he said it with no little smugness, and with an equally smug grin, went almost unnoticed. She couldn’t help herself as her heart skipped a beat when he took a few more steps toward her. Any minute, and he would rise from the ocean in all his glory. Memories rushed forth to fill her with heat that had nothing to do with the bright sunshine.
Of course, she couldn’t let him know that. “You are a peacock,” she snapped, bringing one hand up to shade her eyes as the sunlight bounced off the water’s glittering surface.
“I’m no such thing,” he countered, taking another step. “I simply know you.”
“Do you?”
Another step. She held her breath. The foamy surf bubbled about his hips. He stopped again. “Have you been watching for a ship?”
“Every morning and every afternoon. I thought I saw one yesterday, but it was simply my eyes playing tricks.”
He turned to direct his attention out to sea. The horizon stretched out, flat and broken only by the white caps of the waves. They were higher now, breaking closer to the shore as the tide rolled in.
Diego turned back to her. “I’m coming out n
ow, so prepare yourself.”
She stuck her tongue out at him. “Prepare myself? Bah, it is hardly something I’ve not seen before.”
“Touché, Gabby,” he called, a wry grin on his lips. “Touché.”
Just for that, she refused to avert her eyes as he sloshed out of the surf. Her mouth went dry again, her heartbeat tripling its pace to send her blood scorching through her entire body.
How could I have forgotten this? Unbelievable that it was even possible, really. How was it this image of him, almost flawless in presentation, wasn’t burned into her brain?
He was, indeed, as close to flawless as a man could be, and to see him that way once more twisted her insides into knots that weren’t at all unpleasant. Not one bit. She didn’t want to look away, not even as he held her stare easily and strolled up onto the beach. Catching her breath was difficult though, as he stood before her, naked and wet and perfect. Absolutely perfect.
God help me.
He had no modesty, seemed not to care as her gaze dropped. Though she’d seen very few naked men in her life, she couldn’t imagine any comparing to him. Even in his relaxed state, he was impressive.
Then her gaze lowered further. The jagged wound on his leg turned her stomach. Red and raw, it reminded her of uncooked meat, and he still limped whenever his weight shifted. As she looked up at his face again, she saw a muscle leap in his jaw as he stepped onto his injured leg.
Rising, she brushed sand from her backside, then walked down to him. Now was not the time to continue their battle of wits. Or to ogle him further. “Do you need help?”
His grin faded and he pulled his brows low as he scowled at her. “No.”
“Diego—”
“I said no,” he growled, his voice low with warning and he jerked back as she reached for his hand. “I am not a helpless babe and I’ll be damned if I can’t walk up this beach on my own.”
Pressing her lips tight together, she lowered her hand. Save me from proud men. “I meant neither harm nor insult.”
He ignored her as he bent to snatch up his shirt and used it to dry off his legs. Now, she had no desire to stare, embarrassed not by his nakedness, but by her own stupidity. Her reaction would have been the same had their positions been reversed, and she couldn’t blame him for his anger.
A low oath touched her ears and she turned back to see him stiffen as he fought to wriggle into his breeches. He must have tugged a bit too hard, and either bumped or jostled his sore leg.
It was on the tip of her tongue to offer to help again, but this time she wisely refrained. It wouldn’t take much to stoke his temper now, and she didn’t want him to explode. They needed to work together not be at each other’s throats.
So she watched. He stayed rigid for a few more minutes, but then went back to dressing. When he finished, she felt brave enough to approach him again. “I found the pool.”
“What?” He looked up at her, forehead creased with confusion.
“The stream.” She waved a hand in the general direction of the jungle. “I found where it begins. A lovely little pool with the most beautiful waterfall. I thought you might like to use it to wash.”
His forehead smoothed, all traces of aggravation gone. “And you’ve been there?”
She nodded, unable to resist a smug smile of her own. It was a blessing, her stumbling upon the spring the day before. Not only did she enjoy a long, leisurely soak in the warm water, she also scrubbed her hair, her skin, rinsed her clothes and generally reveled in her discovery. Now she was eager to share her find with him, if only to take his mind off his pain. “It’s heavenly, if you must know. Warm and luxurious. I’d forgotten how wonderful a bath could be.”
He turned his gaze back out to the empty expanse of ocean, murmuring, “A soak would be welcome. Wash some of the salt from me, if nothing else.”
Did she dare risk offending him yet again? Taking a deep breath, she held out a hand. “Come along, then. I will take you there.”
He stared hard at her for a long moment, and she waited for him to snap at her again. However, he sighed softly and accepted, clasping her hand with his. “Take care not to bump me.”
“Of course.”
It took almost every ounce of her greatly lessened strength to haul him to his feet. Once standing, he didn’t relinquish her hand, to her surprise. A gentle tug and he said, “Lead on.”
Trying to ignore the sudden flare spiking up her arm, she nodded. “Of course.”
The sun seemed even warmer as they trudged up the beach toward the jungle. Hopefully, they wouldn’t come across the owner of the throaty growl. She quickly forgot about it as she led Diego through the dense trees and thick ferns and palms. It was slow going, as there were fallen logs, thick brambles and tremendous undergrowth to be traipsed.
Diego stepped into a snake hole, swearing loudly as he tripped and almost fell into her. Somehow, she managed to remain upright as his weight suddenly came down up her. It wasn’t easy, and by the time they reached a clump of particularly skinny palms, she was nearly drenched with sweat.
“Where the bloody hell is it?” Diego grumbled as he stumbled and slammed into her again.
“Right…here…” she panted, halting in her tracks and releasing him to bend at the waist. Her side ached, her lungs feeling very much like they might burst at any moment. She pointed to a break in the fronds. “Through…there…”
Diego limped ahead of her, parting the thick fingers of palm fronds and she smiled as he whistled and said, “I’ll be damned…”
The stitch in her side eased into memory and she straightened up to join him at the pool’s edge, where a lush tropical paradise spread out before them. The spring shimmered like a faceted gem, edged in white sand. Nestled at the base of a mountain of gray-black rock, it was fed by the large waterfall spilling along the glistening rock. All around, hibiscus flowered in the most brilliant reds, pinks, oranges and yellows she’d ever seen bloomed in bursts of colors, while other flowers she didn’t recognize filled the air with their spicy-sweet scents.
She smiled up at him, unable to hide the pride surging through her. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
“It almost makes being marooned here a bit more bearable,” he muttered, limping down to the water’s edge, where he gingerly sank to his knees. Cupping both hands, he scooped water up to splash on his face, and his sigh was almost visible.
She joined him, bending forward to trail her fingers in the crystal blue water. It was as warm as water heated over a fire, and inviting. Her belly did a slow flip as she glanced up at Diego. The day before, when she’d made use of the pool, she thought nothing of stripping off her filthy clothes and diving in.
But now, she hesitated. True, it wouldn’t be the first time his eyes alit on her when she was without clothes, but those days were so long ago. They were very much strangers again, despite his ease on the beach earlier. Perhaps he had no modesty, but she wasn’t entirely certain she’d lost hers.
He grinned at her, tugging his shirt from his back. A grimace pulled at his lips as he stripped off his breeches again and, without so much as a backward glance, he dove into the water, sliced through the surface and disappeared beneath the surface.
About halfway across, he broke the surface. The water was shoulder-deep and his smile was wicked and playful and she had the feeling he knew it. “Well? Are you coming in or not?”
Chapter Nine
Her belly did another flip. “Oh… I don’t know…”
“I must admit, I’m surprised, Gabby. You never struck me as particularly prudish before.”
She would have laughed, except she was as surprised as he was. Prudish was never a word she would have used to describe herself, so why did she feel so prudish now? Still, since she wasn’t about to let him know she agreed, she sniffed. “Prudish?”
“Prudish.”
He goaded, but it didn’t stop irritation from flaring in the pit of her gut. “I am hardly prudish. I am…modest.”
“Of course you are.” His tone mocked her, even if his words didn’t. He made it worse by adding, “If it will ease your discomfort, I will turn my back until you are safely covered by water.”
“You will close your eyes and turn your back. That’s what you’ll do.”
His laughter rang out, lusty and deep. “Very well. If you insist.”
She waited until he did just as he promised, squeezing his eyes shut before he offered up his back. Her belly leapt as if filled with live frogs she heard every evening as she made quick work of peeling off her breeches and tunic and waded out into the warm water. It wrapped around her like liquid velvet, soaked into her tired, aching body like a salve. She couldn’t help her long, low, contented sigh as she waded farther from the bank. “Oh, this is wonderful.”
She closed her eyes, letting the water cradle her as the warmth seeped into her from all sides. It was so wonderful, bobbing along, feeling so utterly weightless.
Water sloshed and she opened her eyes to find Diego standing mere feet from her. Judging by the devilish smile on his face, he hadn’t exactly kept his word. “Are you peeking at me?”
“Who? Me?”
A quick glance down. The water reached her shoulders, but was crystal clear. If Diego came any closer, he would probably be able to see her as easily as if she stood on the beach. That hardly eased her mind.
“Diego.”
He was all innocence as he shook his head. “I saw nothing, Captain Markham, but kept my eyes tightly shut, as I said I would, and I only turned around just now.”
She swirled her hands through the water and dug her toes into the sandy bottom. “For some reason, I don’t believe that. Not one bit.”
He shrugged, water sluicing down his arms, rippling outward from his chest. “I promise you, I did not see your lovely little bare backside or your perfect brea—”
“Diego!” She slapped at the water to shower him. “You promised you wouldn’t look!”
Heat filled her as he slowly grinned and his eyes darkened. “I promised nothing, Gabby.” His voice was a low, seductive purr. “I would have to be mad to promise such a thing. No man is going to hide his eyes from a beautiful, naked woman.”
