“What did you expect, a party of two-hundred-year-old natives to greet us?” Damn, why had he said that? There was no way she’d think the comment was funny.
Gwen glared at him. “Are we going to just stand here or are we going to explore the island?”
Will glanced at the sun hanging low over the western horizon. “It’s too late in the day to do much exploring. It’ll be nightfall within a couple hours. I suggest we stay on the beach, maybe hike a mile or so down one end. Then we can sleep here on the beach and get an early start in the morning to explore inland.”
“We’re going to stay on the island tonight?”
“Sure. It’s not a good idea to take the raft back to the cruiser tonight. Besides, if we can gather enough driftwood, I’ll build a fire.”
“A fire that can be seen if a plane flies over.”
“Maybe. But it could get chilly and I wouldn’t want you to be too uncomfortable sleeping on the beach.”
Gwen had some difficulty keeping up with Will as they trekked down the beach. She wasn’t totally out of shape, but then again, she wasn’t into running marathons, either. It didn’t help that Will was taller, had long, slim legs and apparently had the lungs of a long-distance runner.
They had traveled at least a mile in both directions and found nothing more than pristine beach. Not a trace of humans or animals. But they did figure out after their long walk that the island was probably no tiny speck, despite apparently being an uncharted landmass in the Atlantic. At one point, they had spotted what appeared to be hills, each progressively higher as they faded into the distance, their tops shrouded in a foggy mist that hid them from view.
They returned to the raft, their arms loaded with driftwood, which they piled high away from the water’s edge and near the abundant thicket behind them. She watched in fascination as Will started the fire and fanned it to life.
“Hungry?” he asked.
“Thirsty.”
He’d carried the supplies in a waterproof backpack and had left the pack hidden beneath the raft. When he lifted the raft and felt underneath, Gwen held her breath, halfway expecting the pack to be gone, thinking perhaps the natives had discovered it. Will pulled out the pack, laid it on the ground, unzipped it and retrieved two bottles of water. When he tossed one to her, their gazes met.
“You look disappointed,” he said. “What’s wrong? Had you expected our food to be gone?”
She didn’t reply. He already thought she was teetering on the edge. No need to give him more proof.
He chuckled. “You did, didn’t you? You thought maybe the natives had come out of the woods and—”
“Oh, shut up! I’m in no mood to be made fun of. I’m tired, thirsty, hungry and confused.”
“And touchy.”
She growled. “You’re acting as if this is all some sort of game. It isn’t, you know. We’re stranded—either on this island or on a boat that isn’t going anywhere. This is a life-or-death situation and all you can do is poke fun at my foolish hope that maybe my father isn’t as crazy as everyone thinks he is.”
Will gave her a heavy-lidded glare. “Do you honest to God think we’ve landed on some mythical island?”
“Yes.” She shook her head. “No.” Sighing deeply, she turned away from him. “I don’t know. I told you that I’m tired and confused.”
She felt the heat of his body as he approached, coming up directly behind her but not touching her. Closing her eyes, she wrapped her arms around herself in a protective hug.
“Gwen?”
She didn’t reply. She couldn’t. Emotion tightened her throat.
His big hands clamped down on her shoulders. She tensed. “I don’t deal well with frustration. I tend to take it out on whoever happens to be around, and this time, that’s you.”
“Maybe it is stupid to think this is the island my father found fifty years ago.”
Will drew her closer until her back rested squarely against his chest, then he engulfed her in his big strong arms. Holding her breath, needing his comfort and understanding, but afraid to expect it, she relaxed against him.
He brushed the side of her forehead with his lips and said in a soft whisper, “I think you love your father.”
She did love her father, despite his having abandoned her for a hopeless dream, an obsession that had not only ruined his life, but had brought her here, to the ends of the earth, to the very brink of death.
Cheryl Kress’s stomach growled. She hadn’t had anything to eat since breakfast that morning on the boat and now she wished she’d eaten every bite instead of picking at her food the way she had. Standing over the driftwood fire that Jordan Elders had built, Cheryl glanced around at the others. Captain Mick McGuire sat apart from everyone else, a good hundred feet down the beach. The Professor rested against the ruptured life raft that Jordan had managed to salvage after their disastrous landing. The raft had capsized, toppling them all into the ocean. She and Jordan had managed to get The Professor and Molly ashore, neither of them concerned in the least about Mick. Her father would have said that his type was too damn mean to die.
Poor Dr. Arnell looked ninety. A tired, haggard ninety. She wondered just how long he could last if they weren’t rescued soon. And Molly. She had not regained consciousness. It would be a miracle if she lasted the night.
Cheryl’s gaze rested on Jordan, who sat on the other side of the fire, his back to her as he faced the dark ocean. She would never again look at him and see a nerd. From the moment the storm had hit the Sun Dancer, Jordan Elders had transformed from a brainy geek into a rugged hero. In one way or another, he had saved all of them, even the nefarious Mick. Odd how taking charge, issuing orders, doing what needed to be done had come so naturally to Jordan.
Walking around the fire that she hoped could be seen from the sky, Cheryl approached Jordan. Without saying a word, she sat down beside him. He neither moved nor spoke, just kept gazing at the waves as they hit the shore.
“Jordan, dear boy,” Dr. Arnell’s weak, almost inaudible voice called out.
“Yes, sir?” Jordan replied without turning around.
“I’m too tired to try to find help, but you must seek out the natives tonight. If you don’t, I’m afraid we’ll lose Molly.”
Cheryl sensed the tension in Jordan and understood his situation.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t go inland tonight,” Jordan replied. “We lost what few supplies we had when the lifeboat capsized. I have no compass, no flashlight and I have no idea where to go. We don’t have a choice but to wait until morning.”
“If you won’t go, then I must,” The Professor said.
Jordan groaned softly. Cheryl reached over and squeezed his hand.
Their gazes met, the three-quarter moon shimmering over them as the blaze from the fire behind them added extra illumination to the black night.
She leaned closer and whispered, “Tell him we’ll go now and search for the natives, then you and I can walk up the beach and out of his sight. I give him fifteen minutes, twenty at most, before he falls asleep from sheer exhaustion.”
Jordan nodded, then rose to his feet and extended his hand to help her. He turned to his old professor. “Cheryl and I will see if we can find someone. You stay here with Molly. We’ll be back as soon as possible.”
Smiling faintly, Dr. Arnell sighed. “Thank you. Thank you, my boy.”
They walked up the beach, remaining silent until they were out of earshot, then Cheryl said, “I wish this had been The Professor’s island. I wish he could have his dream before he dies.”
Jordan paused, looked at her and then continued walking.
“We don’t know for sure that this isn’t his island.”
“What?” Cheryl stopped dead still.
Jordan stopped and turned to face her. “We lost our boat in a freak storm, then our lifeboat seemed to drift on a current that led us straight to this island. An uncharted island in the middle of the Devil’s Triangle. Fifty years to the day
that Dr. Arnell discovered his island when he was twenty.”
“You can’t seriously think that this is—”
“Why do you think it’s not possible?”
“Well, for one thing, this island seems to be uninhabited. There are no two-hundred-year-old natives bringing us food and water and a healing plant to save Molly’s life.”
“They might not know that we’re here.”
“Okay, you’re spooking me out with talk like that.”
“That wasn’t my intention,” he told her. “And it’s quite possible that this is nothing more than an uncharted, uninhabited island. But come morning, I’m going inland…in search of Dr. Arnell’s Utopia.”
And then she said something that she wouldn’t have thought, not in a million years, that she’d ever say. “I’m going with you. And I hope we find it. The people, the plant, everything the old man believes in.”
Jordan stared at her. “Either you’ve changed a great deal or I didn’t have any idea who you really are. There’s a lot more to you than just a spoiled, bratty heiress.”
“Was that a compliment?” She smiled at him.
“Just an observation.”
“Well, I’ve observed something, too,” she told him.
“What?”
“That you’re quite a man, Jordan Elders. And I trust you to keep me safe.”
Chapter 11
Gwen sat in front of the blazing fire, her back propped against a huge piece of driftwood, her gaze focused on the dark ocean. Was there anyone out there? A ship? A plane? Someone who would come to their rescue? Or were they trapped here on this supposedly nonexistent island, doomed to die here together? Nothing seemed real. Not this island, not her journey in search of her father, not even her relationship with Will Pierce. It was as if she had stepped outside her life—her real life—and had fallen headlong into a parallel universe. Was this how her father had felt most of his life, as if he were a part of two different worlds?
“I return bearing gifts,” Will said as he came back from his short visit into the wooded area directly behind them.
Gwen glanced over her shoulder. Will carried an armful of palm fronds. She watched while he arranged the huge leaves in a large rectangle atop the sand. When he finished, he bowed to her.
“My lady’s bed awaits.”
“Where are you going to sleep?” she asked.
He eyed the makeshift pallet. “I thought surely you’d share with me since there’s plenty of room. Besides, if it gets chilly, you might need a little body heat.”
“You take the bed. I don’t think I can possibly sleep tonight.”
Will came over and sat down beside her. “Why’s that?”
“I’d think it would be obvious. We’re lost in the middle of the Atlantic. No one knows exactly where we are. We have no means of escape.”
“Yeah, well, there is that.” He chuckled.
She glared at him. “How can you find this amusing? We could die here.”
Will shrugged. “The way I look at it, given our circumstances, we’re damn lucky.”
“You’re going to have to explain that one to me. How can you say we’re lucky?”
“We have several weeks of food, water and supplies on the Footloose. We’ve landed on a tropical island. Fish will be plentiful. Plus my guess is that there are all kinds of fruit trees and more than likely a lagoon of fresh water somewhere around. We could easily live here indefinitely.”
“So you think the possibility of living here indefinitely makes us lucky?”
“It sure as hell beats the alternative.”
Gwen groaned. “Well, when you put it that way…”
“And there’s one other plus to our being marooned together.”
“That would be?”
He grinned sheepishly. “The obvious. You’re a woman. I’m a man.”
“Which to you equates sex, right?”
“Right.”
“I think you’re being awfully presumptuous.”
“I’m being realistic. Even if we’re stuck here for only a few weeks, we’re both going to get horny. It’s just a matter of time before we—”
“Speak for yourself!” How dare he assume that because of their predicament, she’d be eager to have sex with him.
“I am speaking for myself.” He ran the tips of his fingers down her spine, from shoulder blades to buttocks. “I’m all for celebrating being alive. What better way to do that than to make love?”
“It would hardly be making love,” she told him, wishing he’d move his hand from where he’d spread his open palm across her lower back. “It would just be sex.”
“What’s wrong with just sex?” He eased his palm up, then underneath the waist of her pants and slipped inside, his flesh firm and rough against her soft buttocks. She tensed.
She couldn’t go all mushy female, despite the decidedly sexual sensations clutching and releasing in her nether regions. It would be a mistake to allow what she was feeling right now to override her common sense. Will didn’t want her, Gwen Arnell. He wanted a woman, and she was the only one available. If he had another choice, she seriously doubted he’d choose her. She was certainly no man’s fantasy, and she hated the thought of being just a warm body in the night.
“There’s nothing wrong with just sex,” she told him. “As long as that’s what both parties want.”
“And you don’t want sex? You aren’t the least bit interested? You can go the rest of your life without it?” He caressed the top curve of her buttocks, then moved from one hip to the other. “Don’t lie to me. I can feel you trembling. You need it as badly as I do. Admit the truth.”
Was she trembling?
Yes, damn it, she was trembling. And it was all because of Will, because he was touching her.
Maybe he was right. It had been quite some time since she’d been with a man. The problem was that she wasn’t the type for meaningless affairs, and committed relationships didn’t happen all that often for her. Besides, even in the few relationships she’d had since her divorce, she had never felt completely fulfilled, either physically or emotionally. Men said “I love you” as easily as they breathed if they thought it would get them what they wanted. But no matter how sincere those three little words might be, they were just words. Without the action to back them up, they were meaningless. A woman wanted to hear those words, needed to hear them, but in the long run, actions speak louder than words. And not once had any man ever proven to her by his actions that she was the most important thing in the world to him.
“You can’t give me what I want.” Gwen pulled away from Will and jumped to her feet.
With one swift leap, he came up beside her and cradled his hand over her shoulder. “What makes you so sure that I can’t give you exactly what you want?”
She jerked away from him. “Damn it, I’m not talking about sex. I’m sure sex with you would be great. It would be mind-boggling. Unforgettable. But I’d regret it later.”
“Why would you regret it? I’m not married. You’re not married. We’re both adults, and I can promise you that I’m disease free and I’d bet my bottom dollar you are, too. So—”
“So what about contraception? You don’t happen to have a box of condoms on you, do you?”
Raking his fingers through his thick wavy hair, Will cursed under his breath. “Yeah, that could be a problem.”
“As much as I’d like to be a mother someday, I’d like to be married before I have a baby.”
As if some brilliant idea had suddenly popped into his head, Will grinned. “There’s more than one way to have sex.”
Gritting her teeth, Gwen groaned. “You just won’t give up, will you?”
“Not when I really want something.”
“You don’t want me.”
“Oh, yes, I do.”
“You want sex, and I just happen to be the only available woman.” Gwen glared at him. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
When he reached for her, she sidesteppe
d his grasp and turned her back to him.
“Between your father and your ex-husband, they did quite a number on your self-esteem, didn’t they?” Will made no move to touch her again.
His comment hit home, hurting her as if he’d plunged a knife into her back. But only because there was an element of truth in what he’d said. “My self-esteem is just fine, thank you.”
“Maybe your self-esteem as a botanist is just fine, but not your self-esteem as a desirable woman.” Will’s deep, soft voice wrapped around her in the darkness, its power as potent as if he’d actually caressed her. “Just because your father didn’t treasure you the way a man should treasure his little girl doesn’t mean you aren’t worth more than all the mythical islands and youth-serum plants that might or might not exist. And just because your husband was incapable of loving and appreciating you the way a man should doesn’t mean you can’t inspire complete devotion from another man.”
Stop talking! Don’t say these things to me. I can’t bear to hear you tell me what my heart longs to hear.
With emotion lodged in her throat and on the brink of tears, Gwen walked hurriedly away from Will. The farther she moved away, the faster she walked, until she broke into a slow run as she fled along the beach into the warm, shadowy night. Only the moonlight shimmering on the ocean waves and glimmering against the crystal-white sand saved her from being lost in total darkness.
Twilight had faded into night so slowly that Cheryl’s sight adjusted easily to the soft moonlight that cast a golden shadow over the waves and set the sand beneath her feet sparkling like a zillion tiny diamonds. Under different circumstances, she would have found this place beautiful, a truly unspoiled tropical paradise. But knowing she was a castaway with no means of communicating with the outside world tarnished the Eden-like atmosphere. She was certainly out of her element. Being the daughter of a billionaire, she wasn’t used to roughing it.
“What’s the matter?” she asked Jordan when he simply stared wide-eyed at her after she’d told him that he was quite a man. “Can’t you take a compliment?”
His Only Obsession (Protectors Book 27) Page 13
