Page 6

CHAPTER SIX

Violet

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no,” I cried.

Hopping up, I spun in a circle like I expected to see the damn thing further inland or something.

“What the hell?” How had I slept through that thing revving to life?

How the hell could Wick leave me?

Stranded.

On a remote island where, I was reasonably sure, no other tourists had decided to visit.

That was just… evil.

My eyes stung as I walked helplessly down the coast, praying to find that he’d just moved the boat. Or that there was some other sign of life around.

But as the sun set deeper, the darkness on the island was pitch, making it hard to see just a few feet in front of me.

“Okay. Alright. You’re alright.” I paused, taking slow, deep breaths, trying to remind myself that while South America as a whole was home to many predators, my guidebook hadn’t mentioned any on the actual islands. It wasn’t like some island puma was going to come down and maul me while I was out in the open all night.

My stomach grumbled, objecting to only having been fed a damn blueberry muffin almost a full day ago.

But I couldn’t worry about food. I mean, the human body could go weeks or months—depending on your fat stores—without food.

What it couldn’t go without was water.

And that was one thing the guidebooks had been very clear about. Most of the islands didn’t have any natural water sources. Locals relied on either bottled water imports or reverse osmosis filtration systems for the seawater.

I had exactly one bottle of water to my name. If that wasn’t enough, I’d drunk half of it while sitting looking at the waves, comforted by the boat just a few yards away with several more bottles available.

I sucked in a deep breath, fighting back the rising panic.

Animals survived on the islands.

And while, sure, reptiles didn’t need a whole lot of water to survive, they needed some source of hydration.

Even in the most arid of climates, reptiles could rely on… cactus.

Further down the island, there was an outcropping of funky little cacti that looked almost like trees.

Prickly pear, that was what the book said. The islands were rich with prickly pear in the arid climates. Cacti were notorious for storing water inside their pads. If I could just find a way to get the little bristles off of the pads or fruit, I could break them open and drink.

I wasn’t going to be stranded forever, I reminded myself.

True, this seemed to be one of the more remote islands. And no one on our little trip had chosen to visit. But that didn’t mean they wouldn’t eventually.

I could just sit tight.

Drink cactus juice.

Make one of those HELP signs with sticks from the more wooded area of the island.

I wasn’t going to die here, dammit.

Even if that was what Wick wanted.

In fact, I was going to get back to the mainland, turn over every rock, look behind every tree, search every goddamn city in South America, if needed, find his ass, knock him over the head, bind and gag him, then drag him back to the States stowed away like illegal cargo. Then I would gladly turn him over to authorities, collect my paycheck, and never think about him again.

Panic averted and motivation secured, I moved away from the shore, not certain about how far it might come in.

I lowered myself down on the hard ground, fished in my duffle for another shirt, finding it surprisingly chilly without the sun baking down on me.

Then I lowered myself down, using my duffle for a pillow again, and willed sleep to come. If for no other reason, than to silence the swirling thoughts that were moving across my mind at warp speed, making me feel almost dizzy from them.

I forced myself to focus on the crashing of the waves. And before long, I felt my eyelids fluttering shut and sleep claiming me.

The only problem was my dreams were full of being stranded on the island. Only… not alone.

And we’d found some inventive ways to pass the time. Hands roaming over sun-kissed skin, sand biting into my back as Wick’s body came over mine, as he surged into me, making us rock against the shore in time with the waves, our breaths mingling, moans combining, desire surging…

I jolted awake, blinking at the yellow morning sun overhead, its heat warming my body.

“What the…” I said, shooting upward when I saw something on my shirt.

The little lizard was unfazed, though, scuttling up my body instead of away, watching me with little black eyes.

“Ah, hi,” I said, looking down at his black and brown body. Under his neck, there was a patch of bright red.

A lava lizard.

Little insect-eating natives to the islands. While they weren’t dangerous or anything, they weren’t usually so… friendly.

“You’re pretty cool,” I told him. “You, ah, got any ideas on what I can use to skin those cactus pads? No? Well, it was worth asking.”

“Talking to the local wildlife?” a voice asked, making my heart fly up into my throat as it pounded so hard I was pretty sure it might actually break free.

I mean, the first initial panic was that of a woman who was supposed to be alone, then found herself very much so… not.

But it only took a split second for me to recognize that voice.

“Wick?” I said, turning to find him walking barefooted across the ground toward me, his shirt off, but held in front of him, looking like it was weighed down with something.

I would love to claim that I didn’t let my gaze slip down, that I was oblivious to the tanned skin of his torso and how it stretched over some very impressive abdominal muscles, that my eyes didn’t trace the deep indents of his Adonis belt to where it disappeared into the waistband of his shorts. Or that I didn’t find myself impressed with the corded muscles of his arms that said he picked up and put down heavy things on the regular.

But, damn, yeah, I noticed it all.

I even noticed the way the real life of him somehow surpassed that sweaty dream fantasy I’d conjured up.

“Miss me, duchess?” he asked, shooting me a smirk that was entirely too laissez-faire given the fact that we were stranded on a damn uninhabited island.

“Where the hell is the boat?” I asked as he drew nearer.

To that, all I got was a shrug.

“Where were you?” I asked, my tone a little more accusatory than I’d intended.

To that, I got another shrug. “Exploring. I meant to make it back before sunset, but…”

“Dude, why are you still here?” I asked the little lizard who’d decided to not only stay on me, but perch himself on my damn boob.

Wick’s lips twitched as his gaze slid down. “He was probably drawn to your body heat overnight. And, I mean, can you blame him?” he asked, waving toward my chest.

It wasn’t a compliment, dammit. So there was no reason for my body to warm like it did.

There was no way in hell I’d let him know I was affected by the words, though. So I changed tack.

“What do you have?” I asked, half suspecting him of, I dunno, looting the island or something.

“Breakfast,” he said. Finally getting to my side, he dropped down on his knees and put the shirt down on the ground.

Inside was an impressive amount of oranges and slightly green bananas.

“There’s fruit growing here?” I asked, so relieved that I needed to blink the wetness out of my eyes.

“Of course there is.”

“You don’t have to say it like I’m an idiot,” I grumbled as I reached for an orange.

“Think you’re listening for something that isn’t there, duchess,” he told me, dropping down onto his butt and reaching for one of the bananas.

Honestly, he was probably right.

I was just annoyed with him in general, even though he’d really been nothing but decent to me.

And, well, the needy desire from my steamy dream was still pulsing between my thighs, so that wasn’t helping my sour mood.

“Is this all the food that grows on the island?”

“There’s some soursop, tropical plums, and wild tomato that grow naturally around here.”

“How do you know that? Have you been here before?”

“A few times.”

Was I just looking for things again, or was there something cagey about what he was saying? Or, maybe, not saying?

He scrambled my instincts.

I didn’t like it.

“We can drink from the cactus, right?” I asked as I peeled my orange.

“Yeah. It’s not pleasant, though.”

“Why not?”

“Tastes something like a cross between okra and green beans.”

“Ew.”

“Not a fan of vegetables?” he asked, shooting a surprisingly open smile at me.

“I like them just fine. Chopped up and served with fried corn chips. Or sprinkled on top of tacos. Maybe mixed into a burrito…”

“Eat,” he said as I held my peeled fruit in my hand. “You haven’t had anything but that blueberry muffin, have you?”

“Well, you haven’t exactly given me a chance to have a nice, sit-down meal, have you?” I popped a piece of juicy orange in my mouth. My eyes closed, savoring the taste. “Or even a damn cup of coffee.”

“There was some amazing coffee back in Guayaquil.”

“Shut up.”

To that, his lips curved up, but he had the good sense to keep his chuckle to himself as he finished his banana and reached for an orange.

“Where’s your backpack?” I asked, my gaze watching his hands work the peel off the orange. Which was totally not a sexy thing to do. So why was my sex clenching hard enough for me to have to press my thighs together to ease the ache?

“Left it around that bend,” he said, nodding his chin off in the distance.

“Why? Aren’t you worried about it?”

“What’s gonna happen to it? We’re the only people here.”

That was a fair point.

“Do you have any water?” I asked. Sure, the fruit from the juice was good and all. But I was reasonably sure it wouldn’t be enough. At least not if we were stuck here for longer than a day or two.

“We’re good on water.”

Again, there was something kind of… strange in how he said that, in the way he wouldn’t look at me.

Before I could read more into it, though, he was done peeling the orange… and held it out to me.

“Thanks,” I mumbled.

I reached for it. But the immediate sizzle as his fingers brushed mine almost had me snatching my hand back.

Wick’s gaze cut to mine, something simmering behind those brilliant green eyes, and I found myself wishing I knew him well enough to know what that look meant.

“How are the bananas?” I asked, carefully taking the orange out of his hand without coming into contact with his skin again.

“Not sweet yet, but they’re decent.”

“Is there a lot more of this?” I asked, gesturing toward the shirt still loaded down with fruit.

“More than we could possibly eat.”

Well, that was promising.

“You got sunburned,” he said, his finger swiping under my eye lightly, the touch chaste by all accounts but it made my stomach go liquid.

What was wrong with me?

Had it really been that long since I’d been with someone that I was having the warm and tinglies just from someone’s fingers brushing my skin?

But I really didn’t like that math, so I went ahead and stopped the calculations.

“I have sunscreen,” he said, getting to his feet.

I didn’t watch his back.

Nope.

Not me.

“Aren’t you hungry?” I asked his retreating form. But he didn’t answer as he disappeared around the corner of the island.

By the time he came back, I’d eaten another orange and three bananas, and was getting that sloshy ache in my stomach from too much fruit. So I didn’t reach for another.

“How far did you walk?” I asked, watching him approach.

“A ways.”

Again, that weird suspicion nettled at me.

But then he was right beside me again, this time with a small tube of sunblock in his hands.

“Where’d your friend go?” he asked.

His nearness and the slight coconut scent clinging to him made my mind momentarily go blank.

“Who?”

“Your lizard friend.”

“Oh, Hank? He chased after a bug.”

“Hank.” Wick shot me a raised brow look, his lips twitching.

“Well, he spent half an hour feeling me up, I figured he deserved a name.”

Wick dropped down to his knees beside me as he squeezed some thick white sunblock onto his fingers.

I knew I should have told him that I could do it, that I was a grown woman who didn’t need help putting on sunscreen.

But I just let him kick up my chin with one hand, then gently wipe the cream across the tops of my cheeks and bridge of my nose, then work downward. And, finally, across my forehead.

“You burn quick.” My gaze slipped up to his, and I immediately realized my mistake. He was so close. And my body hadn’t exactly calmed down from the dream.

“I, uh, don’t spend a lot of time outside. I’m what you might call… indoorsy.”

He let out a little cough of a laugh at that as he used the remainder of sunblock on his fingers to rub over my ears.

He could have just, you know, done the tops, but he brought the sunscreen down to the lobes, rubbing it in with this delicious firm pressure that sent a little shiver down my spine.

“Why?”

“Why what?” My mind was too scrambled with him touching me to even hold a tentative grasp on the conversation.

“Why are you not outdoorsy?”

“Oh, I, uh, work. A lot.”

“You work a lot, so you can’t go outside?”

“I work… constantly,” I clarified. “I take a night off here or there to hang out with my cousins and friends. But other than that, I’m working.”

“Dragging men in for skipping out on their court dates.”

“I mean, there’s an occasional woman. But your sex really does kind of corner the market on crime.”

“Who’s worse to bring in—men or women?”

“I mean, the men tend to fight me more. But the women cry. I don’t mind putting a knee in someone’s groin to bring them to their knees, but I’m not great with tears.”

“What was your last job?” he asked. Seeming to suddenly realize he was still touching me, he let his hands drop to his sides.

“Frat boy.”

“What’d he do?”

“Stole a car from his valet job and crashed it. Into a police car.”

“Idiot,” Wick said, shaking his head as he dropped back down on the ground next to me. “Did he fight?”

In response, I turned my arm to show him the scratches I’d gotten when he’d pushed me down. They weren’t raw anymore, but they still looked pretty red and ugly.

“He did this on purpose?” Wick’s fingers gently grabbed my arm, inspecting the wounds, then digging in his backpack.

“Well, he pushed me down. So, I guess.”

“Is that common?” I watched him pull a full first aid kit out of his backpack, making my brows scrunch as he dug in it for some cream.

“Getting hurt on the job?”

I should have told him I didn’t need any medical attention. I didn’t. But the part of me that hadn’t been touched by a man in more months than I cared to admit kind of just wanted to feel his fingers again.

“Yeah.”

“It’s not a constant thing. I can usually catch someone off guard. But it definitely happens.”

“What’s the worst one?”

“Easy,” I said, watching him reach for my arm again, lightly dabbing some salve onto my cuts. “I was chasing an MMA fighter who was going to court for beating the hell out of his model girlfriend. He grabbed my wrist and twisted. Broke it.”

“Jesus.” Wick’s eyes looked genuinely horrified by the brutality.

“I broke his jaw,” I said, remembering how the blow to my elbow had ricocheted up my arm. But, God, it had been worth it. “Then called my mom to haul him in. She was a bounty hunter too.”

“Interesting family business. How long were you out with the broken wrist?”

“Well, it was supposed to be six weeks. I went back after two.”

“That much of a workaholic?”

“More like my friends and family were sick of me and my whining. I’m a terrible patient.”

“Eh, you sat pretty well for that.” He reassembled his first aid kit as I glanced down at my arm.

“It’s mostly healed.”

“Maybe. But you don’t want to take any chances. Who knows what you might have to follow me through after this.”

“Why do I get the feeling that’s some sort of warning?”

To that, all he offered me was a smile as he zipped his backpack.

“I’m going for a swim.”

With that, he took off to the water, leaving me on the shore to, well, watch.

I did, too.

As much as I hate to admit that.

While he was off being distracted, I made my way into the woods, going as deep as I dared and remembering exactly why my response whenever anyone asked me to go camping was “Absolutely-fucking-not.”

There were a lot of things that were better “in the old days.”

Clean air and water, for example.

But there was one thing modern society got right.

Bathrooms.

Maybe guys didn’t mind peeing in the woods. But I had a lot of strong feelings about it.

Ones I suddenly wanted to take out on Wick as I stomped back toward the shore.

To find him missing once again.

“Seriously?” I grumbled, my gaze moving around the island.

His backpack was gone too.

But he did leave his shirt.

I moved over toward that, relieved when not only was the fruit still there, but that he’d left me bottles of water too. And a protein bar.

“Thank God.” I tore into that thing like a bear fresh out of hibernation, not even tasting the peanut buttery goodness as I shoveled bites into my mouth until it was gone.

I could practically feel it seeping into my bloodstream and reviving me.

I drank the remainder of my water bottle and stashed the wrapper and empty bottle in my duffle bag before deciding I wasn’t going to waste my day just praying someone came our way. And waiting for Wick to return.

I was going to collect sticks.

Then I was going to make my HELP sign on the beach. Just in case any boats or airplanes came into the general vicinity.

It was actually kind of a pleasant way to spend a few hours. Just hiking through the woods and playing in the sand.

The panic I’d felt about being stranded seemed to be alleviated by Wick’s appearance. Which made no sense. We were still stranded. But it felt better not to be alone in it. And, well, Wick seemed to pack a lot more thoroughly than I ever did.

A first aid kit and sunscreen?

I was usually lucky if I remembered a toothbrush and paste.

And in this case, I had neither.

But as I sat down to have another couple of oranges to try to replenish any sweat I’d lost when I’d been moving around, I realized it hadn’t just been a power bar and water Wick had left me. There, slightly rolled up in the shirt, was a mini toothpaste and brush. With a cap.

Praying he had his own brush and just gave me a backup, I used both to brush. Then used the smallest bit of water I could to rinse my mouth and the brush.

“Sup, Hank?” I said, hearing a shuffling beside me. “What else is there to do around here?”

As if answering, the water crashed against the shore.

“Well, I could use to wash off,” I said, standing.

I did a quick scan around me, checking to make sure Wick was nowhere to be seen.

Then I stripped down to my bra and undies and made my way into the water.

And for a blissful hour or so, all there was in the world was the delightfully warm water, the sun overhead, the weightlessness of floating, and a sole prehistoric-looking marine iguana sunning itself on the shore.

My eyes drifted closed, just getting lost in the moment, in the vacation feels, forgetting all about it being a forced vacation. Without any actual vacation-like luxuries.

Electricity.

Showers.

Toilet paper.

None of it mattered.

But just when I was ready to climb out of the water, I spotted something on the shore that hadn’t been there before.

Wick.

Intense eyes watching me.

He’d even put his shades on top of his head so he could see me without their darkening effects.

For a moment, I just froze.

It wasn’t until the water tickled my nose that I remembered to kick my feet.

How long had he been watching me?

How far had my damn boobs been poking out of the water as I floated on my back?

Why, for the love of God, had I worn my one and only lacy purple bra?

Because it was the only one clean, I reminded myself.

And because I hadn’t exactly thought I’d be stuck in it for days. Let alone have a ridiculously good-looking man see me in it.

“You coming out or what, duchess?”

Ugh.

Now I had to get out.

I couldn’t let him think I was going to be all chickenshit just because I was in my underwear.

At least my panties were simple black cotton and covered my whole ass. No cheeks peeking.

Reaching under the water, I made sure my boobs were securely where they were supposed to be, then made my way to shore.

The problem was that Wick didn’t have the decency to turn away, to give me at least the illusion of privacy.

Nope.

As I walked out, water cascading down my mostly bare body, his gaze was on me.

Not just glancing, either.

The man’s eyes were doing the whole up-down. Slowly.

And I swear the skin his gaze moved over warmed while goosebumps managed to pebble up on my skin.

A shiver—that somehow managed to be both cold and heated at the same time—coursed down my spine, making me take a deep breath to try to calm my system down before it got too carried away with itself.

Unfortunately, that deep breath caused, you know, heaving. And Wick’s gaze was drawn like a moth to a flame.

I couldn’t seem to force my feet to move any closer. Not with my sex aching, my heart racing, my blood heating.

It was Wick who recovered first.

“Here,” he said, digging into his backpack and coming out with… a towel?

How the hell did he fit so much stuff in that thing?

But before I could let myself really give that much thought, he was on his feet, closing the distance between us, opening the towel, and wrapping it around my back.

Then, gaze drifting down, he held both ends over one of my breasts, waiting for me to take it.

It took an embarrassingly long time to do just that, quickly tucking it to the side of my chest, then taking what felt like a necessary step back.

“Thanks. For the protein bar and the toothbrush. I hope that was mine, anyway. Because I used it.”

“I had an extra,” he said, gaze slipping away. Again, there was just that… something in his voice and demeanor that nettled at me.

“Oh, more protein bars,” I said, dropping down next to the fruit that had multiplied with Wick’s return. Though these bananas looked a lot more ripe.

“Chocolate or peanut butter?” he asked, holding one of each out to me.

“That’s a silly question,” I said, snatching the chocolate. “Should we be eating two of these in one day? We’re going to run out faster.”

“It’ll be fine.” He ripped open his bar and took a bite. While I just… watched him chew. Like some freak.

“Where’d you go?”

“To get more fruit.”

“For most of the day?”

To that, I got a shrug.

“Any idea what time it is?”

“About five.”

“Any idea what time the sun sets around here?”

“Six or six-fifteen, year-round.”

Finished with his bar, he reached for an orange.

“What about sunrise?”

“Six or six-fifteen, year-round.”

“What? How?”

“The equator runs right through Ecuador and the archipelago. It cuts the days equally in half.”

“What do people do with twelve hours of night?”

“Well, most people have electricity.”

“Right,” I said, finally opening my bar to eat. I should have been starving. But I found myself mostly disinterested in eating. “Well, what are we supposed to do with twelve hours of darkness ahead of us?”

“We rest.”

After eating—and changing back into fresh clothes—that was exactly what we did.

We silently decided to stay somewhat close, each using our bags for pillows.

The night came on fast and dark.

The temperature dropped a solid twenty degrees in what felt like a blink, leaving me cold and curling up tight into a ball and praying for unconsciousness.

Eventually, it came.