Trial Run: Addicted To Love Romance Collection (7 page)

Rob stood still in the middle of the beach, rain belting down on him. He’d won the fight with the storm, but only just. He was pretty close to exhaustion. And exhaustion would come pretty quick in this weather. They needed shelter, fast.

One hand patting the hunting knife still attached to the side of his thigh, he began undoing the knot of the rope around his waist. He could just see Amelie doing the same, and smacking the empty bottle out of the way every few seconds, cursing it as she went about her job.

She was so funny, he couldn’t help the chuckle escaping his lips. Even with the noise of the storm, she heard him. Her scowl was so intense, a lesser human would have withered and died. As it was, it only made him laugh harder.

He began helping her with the knots, but she swatted his hands away and took a step back. That’s right – Amelie-the-independent-woman had survived her ordeal so far.

Smile still in place, Rob turned around in a circle, squinting through the sheeting rain, weighing out their shelter possibilities.

The beach was wide, in a half-moon shape, and surrounded by what looked to be thick vegetation. He could distinctly see palm trees, right along the line where the sand met the brush – good news for durable shelter building, though he couldn’t do a decent job of it in the dark, in this downpour.

He began walking up the beach, to investigate what lay at one end. More rocks and brush, the kind that would transition to a mangrove patch. A bank with a narrow overhang was going to be their best bet until daylight.

Amelie was pulling the last knot loose when he got back to her.

“This way. We can shelter under those rocks until morning.” He grabbed her hand to guide her steps.

She pulled her hand out of his. “I’m not spending the night in there! There are all sorts of creepy crawlies under rocks. I’d rather just stand naked in the rain until morning!”

“Amelie, listen to me! You won’t make it till morning in this,” he gestured at the raging storm. “Not without shelter. Now be a good girl and do what I say. I promised your brother I’d take care of you.”

Fire flashed out of her eyes, and she backed away from him.

“I don’t need you or anyone else to take care of me, thank you for the offer. Just so you know, I learned all about surviving storms, hurricanes, tornadoes – everything. I took courses online.”

Rob let out a hysterical guffaw. “You learned all about survival… online?”

Amelie nodded forcefully, which only made Rob laugh louder. Suddenly unsmiling, he turned on her. He was cold, hungry and tired, and he was
so
done being the nice guy. Done being friendly and polite. Amelie was no more than a spoilt brat who believed the world at large owed her something, but he was not her lackey, and most definitely not her prince charming. And this tropical storm was just about the right time for her to start acting like a mature person with her head well screwed on her shoulders.

“Wake up, little princess. I’ve got news for you. You see this big wide world?” He swept his arms in a wide arc. “It doesn’t owe you safety. It doesn’t owe you a living. And it doesn’t even owe you the truth. Just because you read it
online
,” he twisted the word, “it doesn’t mean it’s right. I, however, am speaking from experience. So be a good little girl now and do as I say. I know what I’m talking about.”

He grabbed her hand and began towing her toward the rocks that would be their temporary shelter, ignoring her attempts to pull away.

“Let me go, you asshole! Let me go right now!”

He ignored her.

“If you don’t let go of me right this minute, I’m gonna have to hurt you,” she warned, but her warning fell on deaf ears.

In the next moment, she gripped Rob’s arm, right above his hold on her, and twisted back. All Rob registered was that his elbow was on fire. The damn woman had dislocated his elbow, and now she was walking away, back down the beach and toward the thicker brush in the middle. He hadn’t even been aware of letting go of her arm.

The pain lessened and he felt the joint gingerly. Not dislocated. Damn lucky. Still confused about her reaction and with his male pride in shreds, he shouted after her.

“You’ll be sorry! You’ll see! Don’t come to me when you’ve got pneumonia. I won’t care.”

But he did care, and as he gathered a few lumps of driftwood to wedge against the squat rocky overhang and create a slightly drier tunnel for himself, he couldn’t help but admire her spunk. It would still get her ill, but there was nothing he could do about it at that particular time. He’d try reasoning with her again in the morning, he decided. She couldn’t get lost on an island, surely. The way she was acting, no one and no thing would dare hurt her. She was probably bossing the mosquitoes around, telling them what they could or couldn’t do.

He peeled off his soggy clothes and used them to line his makeshift roof. They couldn’t get any wetter, but they could help keep him dry, and being dry meant being warm – half the survival battle won already. In the morning, he would focus on finding food and drinking water, and then on building a decent shelter.

Just before crawling into the tight space for whatever was left of the night, he located the empty water bottle and sawed it roughly in half with his hunting knife, then wedged the two halves between rocks, so they would stay in place. He may as well let the rain water accumulate overnight – one good thing this damn storm could do for them.

He kept his knife by his side as he lay down to sleep. Anger ebbed away as he began to relax, now that he knew they were safe. Well… safer. His last thoughts were of Amelie, and what a wasted opportunity that was – of feeling her smooth skin close to his body and threading his fingers through her wild hair, of testing the softness of her lips with his own… her hips, her breasts, her nipples and those sexy nipple rings… Despite the storm raging overhead, Rob fell asleep with a smile of his face.

Murky morning light sifted through Rob’s barely squinting lids. He opened his eyes fully, surprised at how well-rested he felt. His first thought was of Amelie. Where had she gotten to? Was she safe?

Then he admonished himself. Of course she’d be safe. She could hardly get in trouble on a small island.

The rain hadn’t ceased, but the winds had died down somewhat. Reluctantly, Rob pulled on the previous day’s very soggy clothes; what choice did he have? At least now, in daylight, he could get to work building a proper shelter and making a fire.

He scanned the beach and noted plenty of coconut palms with a smile. That would be a good start. Turning to the ocean, he strained to see any sign of their boat. Right in the distance, he spotted a smooth white lump that didn’t belong. If that was their boat – and he was almost certain it was – it had capsized during the storm. He felt good, now that his decision to abandon the boat and swim for shore had been validated.

Next job – find Amelie.

Instead of walking straight across the beach, Rob followed the tree line, looking for signs of Amelie’s passage. He got to the other side of the beach – south side maybe? He couldn’t tell – without finding anything obvious. Any light tracks she may have made would have been wiped by the rain and the winds, he was certain.

He took a few steps into the bush and proceeded to walk back toward the other end of the beach, sticking to an imaginary line parallel to his first. Still nothing. He repeated the action a few steps in from his last line.

On the fourth pass, he thought he could hear a noise that didn’t belong to the tropical forest. He listened intently. Nothing. Intrigued, he marked notches at eye level in three adjoining trees, something to aid him locate the spot later, should he need to, and prepared to continue down his original track.

And there it was again – a very slight sound, like a whisper… Or a snotty nose. A woman crying.

Aw, hell! Just what he didn’t want to have to deal with. He hated outward displays of emotion. Yesterday, during the storm, on the boat… he got that. Amelie had been scared. Anyone needs a hug when they’re scared. But now? She was safe, for goodness’ sake. On solid land. Okay, so the conditions were still a bit harsh, but there wasn’t much they could do about that. Crying wasn’t going to fix anything.

He turned toward the crying woman and marched swiftly through the bush, leaving a couple more notches in the trees either side, just in case he got too distracted to pay attention to the way back.

It was clearer, now, the sobbing sound with occasional hiccups. She was trying to muffle it, he was sure, but there was no mistaking the abject misery behind the tears. The poor girl!

Damn it! She’d brought it onto herself! She should have listened to him, she should have stayed by his side last night. He’d made it through the night without needing a hankie.

But even forced harsh thoughts were not enough to harden his heart. Amelie’s distress bothered him, and he couldn’t deny it.

So much for being immune to women! He let out a frustrated sigh, shook his head, but lengthened his stride all the same.

Amelie couldn’t hold in her despair anymore. This was not what was supposed to happen. She was supposed to be in a comfortable, air-conditioned room in a hotel in Nassau by now. Have room service bring her a seafood platter, or maybe some dressed lobster and a mango salad. Then walk along the beach – alone, preferably – and breathe in the dizzying smell of the tropics, watch the waves, admire the stars…

Instead, she’d spent the last ounce of energy hanging onto a lump of glass fiber laughingly called a boat, been pummeled to death by the winds and the rain, and bruised by the violent jolts of the craft that was supposed to have protected her.

Then, to add another layer of misery to her life, she’d walked away from Rob, despite knowing she would have fared better in human company, not because she knew she could get better shelter elsewhere, oh, no. She was being spiteful and rebellious, and look where her stupid defiance had gotten her: worn-out, covered in mud, scratches and insect bites, hungry, and livid with herself for having behaved so irresponsibly.

Exhaustion and anger gave way to sadness and tears of self-pity. She’d slid down a tree trunk, not even caring enough to check what she was sitting on, and let the tears flow. It was dark and she was scared, cold and hungry. But most of all, she was alone. Rob was somewhere on the beach, probably hating her guts by now and in no mood to offer comfort and assistance, even if she somehow managed to find her way back to him and ask for his help.

The darkness began to lighten, and still she couldn’t get a hold on her emotions. She wasn’t one to blubber, no matter what went wrong in her life, but that existence was far away now, and she wasn’t the same calm and collected Amelie who would deal with adversity in the most unruffled manner, always in control.

A long while and two gallons of tears later, she singled out a different sound between her sobs. Uniform rustling, like steps, getting nearer. She disregarded the crick in her neck and the stiffness in her shoulders as she pushed her face off the layer of rotten leaves, where it had come to rest.

Her eyes struggled to focus, but in the end locked on Rob’s concerned face.

“Aw, hell, Amelie!” he said as he dropped to his knees by her side. “What the hell have you done to yourself now?” He swept her hair off her face and stared straight into her eyes. “I’m going to pick you up. Please don’t hurt me.”

His gentle hands grabbed her shoulders and he lifted her off the ground. She couldn’t help the cry of pain – she’d been curled up in the mud for too many hours – and it wasn’t until he’d scooped her up in his arms and held her close to his warm chest that Amelie’s cramped muscles began to relax and her tears finally dried up.

The walk back to the beach took no time at all. All too soon, he was dropping her to the sand, encouraging her to wriggle up into the tight shelter he’d obviously used the previous night.

“I’m going to stay out here,” she heard him say. “Please don’t fight me on this. Take off your clothes and pass them to me. You’ll feel better when you’ve had a chance to dry up.”

She took a minute to think about it, then she did what he’d asked with cramped, shaky fingers. The space was too tight to sit up, so she pushed the sodden clothes as far down as she could, then hooked them with her feet and kicked them out.

“Good girl,” Rob said. “Now, I know you’re hungry and thirsty, and you definitely look like you haven’t slept a wink all night, so I’ll tell you what we’ll do.” She kept quiet, so he continued. “I’m going to make us a decent, more permanent shelter –”

“N-no,” she shouted. Where had the strength for that sound come from? She wasn’t sure.

“Why not? You like sitting in the rain that much?”

Her lips were trembling, but she pressed them together for a moment, to make them obey her wishes, and then spoke.

“Shouldn’t we… I mean, we don’t know if this island is inhabited, but I would have thought…” She took a shuddery breath.

“Amelie,” Rob spoke, and there was a tenderness in his voice she was certain had never been there before. “Think back to your geography lessons. How many islands in the Bahamas? About 700, right? And only a handful of them are inhabited. The likelihood that we’d have wrecked right on the shores of one of those is very low. It would be convenient, and we will check, I promise, but please don’t get all your hopes pinned on that one thing.”

Though perfectly logical and spoken in a soft tone, his words brought her close to tears again. She didn’t want to consider the possibility they were really wrecked on a deserted island, alone and surrounded only by more barren desolation. That would be too much for her fragile self-control to deal with now. So she ignored his words, and held tight to the belief that there was a good chance they would be spotted by someone, or they’d be able to attract some passing tourists’ attention. People always played about in boats around these islands. She wasn’t stranded on another planet, just somewhere in the Caribbean. Things weren’t as bad as they looked.

“What I was saying is,” Rob spoke again, “let’s use today to rest up. I’ll swim over to the reef and see what I can scavenge from the boat. It capsized overnight, so I’m not sure what I will find, but at least we have drinking water. Well… about 6 gallons of rain water, actually. After that, I will work on getting our shelter built so we could be comfortable tonight. Once I know we have a shelter, I’ll find us some food.”

Amelie stayed quiet, letting his voice lull her into a sense of comfort. He was planning to look after her, that much was clear.

“When we’re strong enough to think straight, and also feel a little less emotional, then we’ll decide how we can go about exploring the island. You might be right – there may be a village on the other side. We won’t know until we’ve checked. And even if there’s no one here, I’m sure we’ll see some boats. Tourists or fishing vessels… We’ll attract their attention, and then we’ll be out of here. It won’t take long, you’ll see…”

Rob’s words were soothing. Amelie drew them in, cocooning herself in their comfort. Somewhere around the time he was explaining about ways to raise someone’s attention, so they could be rescued, exhaustion caught up with her, and she finally drifted off.

As soon as her breathing became regular, Rob stepped away, all the while listening for her call, in case she wasn’t really asleep. But the call didn’t come, and he relaxed and began focusing on the best way to get to the boat stranded on the reef.

The beach stretched smoothly in a semi-circle so perfect it could have been drawn by the hand of an architect. At both ends, mangroves closed off the view. He stopped about three quarters of the way down, at a spot that seemed to give him the shortest distance to swim, and stripped off his clothes.

After a short debate with himself, he left the knife on top of the clothes. The only item he was carrying now was Amelie’s phone, which he’d taken from the back pocket of her shorts. It wouldn’t work, of course, since it had been in her pocket when she’d fallen into the sea, but he didn’t want to take any chances. He planned to dump it somewhere in the reef. She would probably assume it fell out of her pocket when they were swimming for the shore, the previous night.

The rain had changed during the course of the morning. It was no longer rough and cold, hitting down in temper. Now, the drops were smaller and warmer, less intent on drowning him. That was good; the storm would soon pass.

He walked into the sea and struck out for the reef. Earlier, when he was talking to Amelie, trying to soothe her raw nerves enough to get her to fall asleep, he hadn’t lingered on the subject of what may or may not have remained inside the boat. Honestly, he didn’t think there could be anything left in it, if it hadn’t been tied down, but it was worth the trip for two reasons – one, he could use the hatchet when building their shelter, and two, he could assess the damage to the craft and whether it could be easily fixed. If necessary, he could damage it further.

Now that the storm had so conveniently deposited them on an island, as if it had been working hand in hand with Jason, Rob was determined to see his task through, and he was certain Amelie would thank him for it… one day…