Trial Run: Addicted To Love Romance Collection (13 page)

Amelie gasped when she felt Rob’s hot lips on her stomach. He exposed his teeth and grazed a trail up to her breasts, pushing her top off as he went.

One of his arms moved from behind her middle to under her legs and she felt light as a feather as he moved to the canopy lined with palm leaves. Rob’s lips never left her skin as he cherished every inch of her body. She was getting used to always feeling this way, when in his arms, and wished their island romance would never end.

And then she remembered he hadn’t said those all-important three words to her, so, as far as she could tell, right now, this was quite likely a one-sided tragic love story. Only one of them could walk away from it unscathed, and it wasn’t going to be her. She squeezed her eyes shut, to keep her tears at bay.

Rob must have felt her tense up, because his lips paused and his hands took over, stroking smoothly all over her body.

His eyes were locked on her when she lifted her lids again, the ‘are you all right’ question in their depths loud and clear even when unspoken. She pushed the sadness away and gave herself fully to the man who’d spoilt her for others. If here and now was when she could have the love of her life, then she couldn’t afford to waste one moment, whether he shared her feelings or not.

She opened up to his touch and allowed the searing heat of their passion to burn away any negative thoughts. Only once, right at the end, barely in control of her bodily functions, she felt a wisp of her deep sadness surface again; one lone tear squeezed out and slid down her heated cheek.

As they lay there, exhausted, it started to rain. Rob cussed, excused himself and instructed her to stay under the shelter. He waited for her nod of agreement, then he disappeared.

The night was dark, and there were no stars that she could see – a fitting metaphor for her relationship with Rob. Was there any hope she could keep his interest once back home? Her thoughts wandered down the same beaten tracks as she slowly pulled on her clothes, sliding her hands over her torso the way Rob had, a too-weak echo of his scorching touch.

And then he was there, smiling wide, and she couldn’t help but grin back in return.

“Dinner…” he paused for effect, “is served. Your birthday feast awaits.”

He swept his hand in the direction of the fire, where several coconut halves, gourds and leaf parcels were lined up beneath another shelter.

“Are you going to eat like that?” Amelie pointed at his bare manhood.

Rob shrugged. “I figure I’m going to get wet anyway, and not all of us have spare changes of clothes…”

Amelie propped her hands on her hips. “Are you trying to find excuses for making me horny again?”

“I don’t need an excuse, baby,” Rob said, winking. “But if it makes you happy…” He sighed and grabbed his shorts. “Now, come on, let’s eat before that lobster decides to crawl back into the ocean.”

The meal was superb. Amelie was generous with her praise of both his inventiveness and cooking skills. Rob lapped it up, and it was easy to pretend this easygoing friendship between them – love on her part – could last forever.

When they’d finished, Rob groped the ground behind him, and then brought something out.

“Happy birthday, Ammy,” he said, placing it gently on her lap.

It was a coconut with a wide leaf around it, finished in a bow.

“Yay! Happy birthday to me!” Amelie managed to get out before she started to cry. She let the coconut roll away.

“Oh, Ammy! Come here.”

Rob pulled her into his lap and circled her with his arms. Amelie turned her head into his neck and let all her worry and frustration out.

“Hey, hey…” Rob whispered into her ear, stroking her hair. “Are you competing with the rain?”

That made her chuckle and her tears eased up a little.

“What’s making you so sad?” Rob asked, his expression serious. “You know we won’t be stranded here forever.”

The tears started to flow faster again.

“Shh, it’s okay, sweetheart. Shh,” Rob whispered, his hands rubbing soothingly over her arms and shoulders.

She cried harder still and locked her hands around his neck. Rob’s arms tightened around her body in response, and that made her feel just that little bit better.

“This was not supposed to happen,” she sobbed by way of an explanation.

How could she tell him she wished they did stay stranded right here for the rest of their lives? How could she admit she was afraid she’d lose him, once they got home and their fairy tale ran its course?

Oblivious to her worries, Rob rocked her gently and placed little kisses all over her hair. “I know, sweetheart. But it will get better. I’m doing my best to make it better. This won’t last forever.”

She clung to his shoulders, wishing it would.

At a loss to knowing how to handle her tears, Rob asked, “Do you want to go home?”

Amelie nodded and tightened her grip. She was in Rob’s arms, and he’d done nothing to make her sad, so why was it that this birthday felt like the most miserable birthday of her whole life?

It was still raining on the morning of the eleventh day since they’d set foot on this island. Rob glanced back at Amelie’s curled-up form on the leafy floor of their shelter and sighed. He couldn’t understand women. Amelie had seemed perfectly happy at first, pleasantly surprised by his efforts to celebrate her birthday as best he could, and then, out of the blue… tears!

She hadn’t even opened her present.

Rob shook his head and grabbed the hatchet from the log he’d sunk it in the day before. Time to get breakfast ready. But first, he would retrieve her birthday gift. He’d worked too hard and for too long making it, for it to be forgotten on a deserted beach.

When Amelie woke up, food was cooking on the coals and her gift was sitting by her bag. She didn’t give the coconut even one glance, but she did take an interest in the day’s activities. Her eyes stayed sad, though. Rob decided he would do everything in his power, however crazy and unusual it may seem, to see her impish sparkle replace that dull light in her eyes.

And right at the top of her wish list was returning home. He would concentrate on making the boat functional enough to get them back to Florida.

First, he chopped two young trees, about the thickness of his forearm, which would form the sail supports. He planned to fit them between the handrail and the console, and lash them tightly to the rail. It was the only way he could think of making a sail work, and while not ideal, it would be good enough to get them home. With the wind blowing from behind, the stress would be against the solid console, not against the rail. It should hold.

The early afternoon was spent rope-making. When they had enough strong rope, they fitted the two ‘masts’ between the boat’s console and its rail, and lashed them tightly in place. With extra weight on board, the craft started sinking at an alarming rate, so they towed it back to the shallows and moored it to the nearest tree. It was clear they would need to create some sort of raft to act like an additional floating device around the original boat.

While they thought through and discussed the impacts of the various raft designs on speed, stability and direction, they spent a pleasant afternoon in each other’s company. Amelie seemed to have gotten over her sadness. Maybe that had something to do with the weather. Everyone feels more cheerful when the sun is shining.

That night, their lovemaking started early, sweet and slow, and Rob decided he must hold an angel in his arms, the way Amelie’s body glinted, bathed as it was in the golden-orange glow of the setting sun. They slept in each other’s arms, and when new light dawned, they were still entwined. Rob rather liked that, and he wasted no time in showing Amelie quite how much.

It was a cloudy day, muggy. There would be thunderstorms later, Rob reckoned. Rainy squalls were not unusual in May, and the weather only grew more unpredictable from June onward. The sooner they could get back to the mainland U.S.A. the better, whether help would arrive for them in a couple of days’ time or not.

They got to work, quickly finding and marking four trees that would become the supporting beams either side of the boat. Rob started chopping them down, but it was hard work in the high humidity. Amelie took on kitchen duties and supplied the drinks during Rob’s breaks. By the time the heavens opened, they had most of the wood they needed lined up and ready for tying up into a raft around the boat as soon as the rain stopped.

Amelie’s eyes popped wide open when Rob peeled off his shorts and ran out into the lashing rain, grabbing his spear on the way to the ocean. She didn’t say anything, though, which Rob saw as a huge improvement.

Dinner was going to be meagre. The brewing storm had cleared the shallows of their usually abundant life. He’d caught one small jack over by the sandbank, so he’d had to go back to shore for one of Amelie’s t-shirts, which he’d adapted into a net. The rain was belting down when he swam over to the reef to dive again for whatever else he could find. Nothing but a handful of battle-ready shrimp caught his eye in the churning waters.

“We could use up the last of the smoked fish,” he suggested, but Amelie shook her head.

“Leave that for breakfast, just in case. How about I help you trap some land crabs before it gets too dark to see?”

Rob couldn’t believe his ears. “You? You are offering to help me catch crabs?” Amelie nodded. “I thought you hated them.”

“Don’t give me the chance to change my mind! Let’s go already.”

Rob led her toward the strip of forest which edged the mangroves on the north tip of the island.

“Watch out,” he warned her, pointing at some holes in the ground. “They can be very fast. And they have a massive front claw that can do real damage.”

Something scurried along the grasses just then, and disappeared down a hole.

“And apparently they’re also masters of camouflage,” Amelie added on a strained chuckle.

“Yeah, they are, most of the time. These ones over here are bigger. They use the mangroves while they’re young, and move out when they are big enough to defend themselves successfully.”

“I’m guessing there’s more food here, too,” Amelie said, poking a half-rotten piece of fruit with her only crab-catching tool – a sturdy stick.

“Let’s see if we can use that as bait.” Rob picked up the fruit and broke a chunk off, then placed it close to the hole. The next morsel, he dropped straight in.

Before long, they noticed movement. First a small claw, then some legs, and soon the whole crab was out and heading for dinner. Rob grabbed it by its back in a flash.

“Yes! Join us for dinner, won’t you?” he said to the flailing crustacean.

“Look, another one!” Amelie shrieked, pointing to the fruit they’d used to bait the first crab out. Another, smaller, crab was scurrying sideways to a hole, the fruit clamped in its claw.

“Get it!” Rob shouted.

“What? I’m not touching it!”

“Hold this one, then.”

“Are you crazy?”

Amelie stared from Rob to the crab which had nearly reached safety, then hit the poor beast with her stick. The crab flew toward a tree, bounced off its bark and landed upside-down, stunned. Rob burst out laughing as Amelie approached the crab, her stick raised above her head.

“Stop, stop,” he said, clutching at a stitch in his side with his free hand. “What do you intend to do? Chase it to the pot?”

Amelie opened her mouth to retort, but the mental picture was too much. She started laughing, too. Rob picked up the stunned crab and together, laughing and tripping over tree roots in the rain, they made their way back to their shelter.

“I’ve never seen anyone crab-hunt like you,” Rob said while their fish and crab sort-of-chowder was simmering on the coals.

Amelie wrung out her clothes and hooked them under the roof to dry. “Who cares about technique? It worked.”

“Sure did,” Rob agreed. “The poor thing looked quite surprised.”

Amelie laughed and sat down by the side of the fire, naked, to dry herself naturally.

What a change, Rob thought. Not much more than a week ago she had requested that he wore clothes at all times, and only allowed one exception – fishing or diving trips – when he pointed out he had no other clothes to change into. Now, sitting naked by the fire seemed like the most natural thing to do. There was something to be said for the lack of civilization. What would happen, he wondered, if they never left?

He stretched a hand slowly to stroke her cheek and jaw, and she leaned into his palm, trapping it with her own hand.

“Will you still want me, when we get back home?” she asked, then pressed her lips together as a worried expression creased her forehead.

Rob shuffled closer and cradled her face between his hands. “I’m not sure how Jason would see this,” he swallowed, “…this budding relationship of ours. I have the feeling he could be quite the protective big brother sometimes.”

A weak smile stretched her lips, and her gaze drifted away from his. “Whatever gave you that idea?” she mumbled quietly. Then she stood up and walked over to the drying clothes, checking them despite the fact that there was no way they would be dry yet.

It didn’t escape him that she was hiding her face, deliberately staying away from him, and even the ripping pain he was feeling in his chest couldn’t distract him from the horror of his next thought: yes, she did read more into it, into this little bit of fun they’d been having on this God-forsaken island. The girl was in love with him. But what did he feel in return?

Absently, he rubbed at his chest, mulling over life, women and stupid bets.