The Trouble With Paradise (27 page)

“Yeah. Okay, great.” She lay there listening to him walk away until Brandy rolled over and slid her sleep mask up to her forehead.

“You should have gone for it again, hon. I wouldn’t have watched. Okay, I might have peeked, but that’s all.”

Dorie let out a huffing laugh. “Oh my God.”

“Hey, I’m not here to judge.”

Dorie turned over, and found Cadence gone from her pad.

“Uh, Brandy?”

Brandy came up on her elbow. “Huh. Looks like someone else is going for it.”

“So much for the penis embargo.”

“Honey, sometimes a woman just can’t help herself.”

Unfortunately, Dorie could identify with that.

It didn’t feel like she slept, but the next time she came awake, she sensed it was much closer to dawn, though the sky was still dark.

Only a week ago, her nighttime fantasies had run along the lines of, say, Matthew McConaughey, but now as she lay on the long, golden stretch of beach, staring past their shelter to the star-riddled night sky, she fantasized about chocolate chip cookies.

Make that double chocolate chip cookies.

Sorry, Matthew, but priorities were priorities. Stuck on a deserted South Pacific island without cookies? Serious suffering going on.

All around her came the sounds that people tended to buy those nature CDs for: the waves gently hitting the shore, crickets chirping, an exotic bird squawking . . .

Her stomach growling.

She put her hand on her belly, thinking she’d give her right arm for an entire bag of cookies all to herself. Maybe even her left as well.

“How’s the patient?”

Ah, there he was, the bane of her existence. She knew this because just his voice made her nipples go all happy.

Damn nipples.

She felt him sit in the sand at her side but she didn’t look at him. Nope, looking at him was a really bad idea because then her brain would begin that painful tug-of-war.

She sighed. “Go away.”

“Ah. You’re feeling better.” He lay next to her so that his arm brushed hers, the one she would definitely sell for that bag of chocolate chip cookies.

“Question,” she said.

“Hit me.”

“Do you ever think about chocolate?”

He turned his head and looked at her. He was all hard, lean, sinewy lines to her soft, curvy ones. She imagined if she pointed out how different they were, he’d say he liked those differences very much. “I think about other things,” he said.

“Like?”

“Things.”

His arm shifted, just barely pressing into the side of her breast. And more than just her nipples got happy.
Bad. Bad body.
“I’m tired.”

“Here’s something to wake you up.” Instead of taking the hint and leaving, he rolled to his side, facing her. “Our bet.”

Oh, no. “We are not going to talk about the bet.” No way.

“That’s because you lost.”

“You cheated.”

He was silent, letting that lie live a life of its own as she remembered the details . . .

As if she could forget.

“You could just pay up,” he suggested.

That thought shot tingles of excitement directly into certain areas of her anatomy that had no business getting excited. She closed her eyes, a bad idea because her other senses took over. How did he manage to smell like heaven on earth while on a deserted island? “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He just laughed softly.

“You didn’t hit your head that hard,” he said. “You
know
.”

“You’re not going away. Why aren’t you going away?” she asked desperately, knowing
exactly
what he was talking about, exactly what bet she’d made, and what she now owed him, which involved her.

Dancing.

Naked.

Beneath this very starlit sky. “If you were nice, you’d go.”

He lifted a broad shoulder. “Never claimed to be nice.”

Also true.
Damn it.

“Plus we’re stuck on an island,” he pointed out. “Just how far away do you think I can go?”

Keeping her eyes closed, she sighed again. She really hated it when he was right.

The next time she opened her eyes, the sky was just beginning to lighten in the east, and she was left to wonder. Had his visit been a dream?

“You okay?” Brandy asked, looking at her from her pad.

“You mean other than we’re shipwrecked and I have sand in parts where no sand should ever be?”

“It’s good for your skin.”

“You said sex was good for the skin.”

“Sex is great for the skin.” Brandy looked Dorie over from head to toe. “And if we had a mirror, I could show you your reflection and prove it.”

She felt her face heat. “I don’t know what came over me.”

Yes, you do. A tall, earthy, passionate, amazing man came over you.

And beneath her
. . . “Brandy?”

“Yeah?”

“I have to ask.”

“Shoot.”

“Well . . . Cadence’s worried about her job. Andy’s worried about getting hurt and losing his contract. I can’t stop thinking about the life I should have lived instead of the one I am living, but you . . .”

Brandy’s smile turned serene. “Yeah?”

“You don’t seem worried about much.”

Brandy looked away, and something within Dorie tightened. She hadn’t forgotten, not for one minute, that one of them had hurt Bobby, and that it could be any one of them.

Including this woman.

“You’re going to think I’m crazy,” Brandy finally said.

“Try me.”

“My life in Vegas? Not quite my dream life. I mean I make plenty of money, don’t get me wrong, but I turned twenty-nine this year.” She grimaced. “Okay, thirty. I turned thirty. Three years ago.” She sighed. “And I’m not going to look this hot forever, you know.”

“Are you sure? Because you’re pretty hot.”

“Ah, thanks, hon, but it’s all downhill from here for me. And I’m tired of trying to keep up. Out here, I don’t have to try at all.”

Dorie stared at her. “Are you telling me you
like
being here?”

Brandy lifted a shoulder.

“You do,” she marveled. “You like being here.”

“What’s not to like? It’s warm and very beautiful . . .”

“And deserted.”

“Right. And because it is, money doesn’t matter.”

“Deserted. Did I mention
deserted
?”

“I know you think I’m crazy, but trust me, in Vegas, I’m on borrowed time. I don’t want to dwell on regrets here, but on an island like this, who cares about lengthening mascara, or how high I can kick on stage?”

Dorie thought about working for Mr. Stryowski for the rest of her life. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

They were both quiet a moment, and Dorie lay there listening to the surf, her thoughts drifting.

“I think someone pushed Bobby,” Brandy whispered.

Dorie’s heart stopped. “What makes you think that?”

“I went to his room to find him, and I saw—”

“What?”

“Blood.” Brandy closed her eyes. “Lots of it.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Same reason you didn’t. I was afraid. Still am.” Brandy’s gaze was steady when Dorie looked at her. “You saw. I can tell you saw.”

“Are you looking at everyone,” Dorie asked quietly, “wondering who did it? Who hurt him?”

“Yeah.”

“For whole moments at a time I can actually convince myself I imagined this whole nightmare.”

Brandy let out a low laugh.

“I know. I blame my upbringing. My whole family is this together, organized, successful unit. I’m the black sheep, the romantic. The illogical one.”

“The dreamer,” Brandy said quietly. “Nothing wrong with that.” She shook her head. “I guess I was born cynical.”

“No one’s
born
cynical.”

Brandy’s smile was somber and just a little sad. “I’ve decided it’s not you, you know.”

Dorie appreciated that, she really did. And she knew Brandy’s expectant silence said she was waiting for Dorie to repeat the favor to her. But she couldn’t help but remember how comfortable Brandy had looked brandishing the knife that no one had even known she carried.

Extremely comfortable. Almost as comfortable as she’d looked while recalling how she’d wanted to cut off her ex-husband’s family jewels. “You really thought I hurt Bobby?”

Brandy lifted a shoulder. “If it makes you feel better, I considered Cadence, too. But she jumps at her own shadow, so I can’t see it being her. Christian takes his doctor duties far too seriously to ever break the physician’s oath, and then there’s Andy.”

“Who can’t handle the sight of blood,” Dorie said quietly. “Yeah, I noticed that today.”

“Sort of shrinks our options, you know? Because there just aren’t that many of us left now, are there?”

“No.” She hated this. She sat up, then held her head while it swam for a moment. “Not many options at all, except for the remaining crew. The very people Bobby trusted the most.”

“Trusted?” Brandy shook her head. “I don’t think they trusted each other at all. They work together, that’s it.”

Dorie looked over at Cadence’s empty pad. “And right now, Cadence is with one of them. Probably alone.”

“Yeah.” Brandy stood up, then offered Dorie a hand.

Dorie let her pull her up, then stood very still waiting for her world to stop spinning. “We’re going to check on her.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Even though she’s undoubtedly busy. Very busy.”

“Honey, she’s undoubtedly naked. We’re still going to check on her. It’s what friends do.”

Friends.
Dorie wanted that to be true. They walked to the beach, and got yet another unwelcome surprise.

The
Sun Song
?
Gone.

TWENTY-ONE

 

The sun rose over the craggy cliffs, bringing a new day, and what should have been renewed hope. Instead, the morale in camp had sunk to a new low.

The boat had vanished, and no one knew how, or why.

Dorie looked around at the glum faces. Ethan poked at the signal fire, his movements jerky. Denny stood on the beach, the water lapping at his knees, staring at the spot where the
Sun Song
should have been as if he could bring it back by sheer will.

Andy dragged wood to the fire log by log, as if they’d be here for a while.

Dorie could only hope not.

Cadence was actually sitting. She had her head in her hands. Dorie and Brandy had run into her coming back to the pads, and she’d said nothing. She stood now. “I’m going for a run.”

Brandy, who’d been sitting by the fire reading the
People
magazine Dorie’d given her from her purse, looked up in disbelief. “Honey, you’re stranded on an island without a mall. There’s no reason to walk anywhere. And that’s the good news. Come read about the latest bitch fight that broke out in Hollywood last week between the two blonde It-Girls.”

“No, you don’t understand. I have to run.”

Brandy leaned in a little closer. “Didn’t you already get your exercise with...” She jerked her head toward Denny’s back. “You know.”

Cadence winced. “No. Actually, I didn’t.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “We didn’t get that far.”

“Why not?”

Cadence glanced at Denny’s back, then lifted a shoulder. “Something stopped me.” She shook her head at the questions in their eyes and stood. “Sorry. I’ve really got to run.”

“Stay where you can be seen,” Denny said, and when everyone looked at him, he turned to face them, looking unusually tense. “For safety.”

Right,
Dorie thought. Because their boat had vanished. Oh, and one of them might be a whack job.

“I’ll stay in view,” Cadence said, and took off running on the sand.

Dorie felt as restless as Cadence, and she left the campfire, too, walking toward the forest, where she’d seen Christian vanish a few minutes prior.

“Hey,” Denny called out.

“Waterfalls for a shower,” Dorie called back. “I’ll scream if I need saving.”

Brandy’s gaze said she knew exactly why Dorie was going to the “shower” and who was already there, but that didn’t stop Dorie from making the climb up the rocks anyway, following the now obvious trail to the waterfall. Beneath her feet, the earth was soft and springy. No crunching leaves. Here, everything was wet and giving. Lush.

She’d come here to shower yesterday after her fall. But she’d felt too out in the open, so she’d slipped behind the waterfall. Either that hadn’t occurred to Christian, or he didn’t care, and she had to admit as she came into the Edenlike clearing and took in his long, leanly muscled body, gleaming from the soap he was spreading over himself, he didn’t have reason to care.