Heart's Paradise (6 page)

Seemed reasonable, yet he couldn’t settle on that explanation.

Regardless what the producers had planned, Jonathon hoped he could work his way into Phoebe’s good graces. And later, out of her bra and panties.

Chapter 4

Of all the dirty tricks…
Phoebe swallowed her anger as she worked the bow drill. The humidity made it hard to get a coal started, and her shoulder throbbed as she sawed back and forth. Sweat dripped off the end of her nose and splattered on the already moist tinder she had to work with.

“Damn fool probably got himself lost,” she muttered.

How would she carry her own weight and Jonathon’s for the coming weeks? Twenty-five days to find food, water, keep a shelter over their heads. Not much else besides a few reptiles and birds lived on the land, so food would be hit-and-miss if they couldn’t find resources in the ocean. Coconuts would only carry them so far before malnutrition would set in.

She glanced up at the gulls circling and squawking, watching as several lit down to investigate the rotten turtle shell Jonathon had brought along. She swiped her forearm over her brow.

Jonathon Breck. Of all people, they had to send me Jonathon Breck.

Suddenly she was back in the borrowed room of the fraternity house. Music blaring downstairs, the bed groaning and squeaking beneath them. Phoebe swallowed, shaking her head of the memory, wondering if the producers had somehow discovered Sarah’s paternity. It seemed much too big of a coincidence they’d stuck Jonathon on the island as her partner.

The latest gossip report stated he’d recently eloped with some supermodel. So far he’d been married off three times that year.
Not
that she paid attention to his love life of course.

Jonathon had changed over the past eleven years. Gone was the softness of youth. His jawline was stronger, his chest had a nice sprinkling of hair over it, his once lithe build now carried more muscle bulk—things that left him even more masculine and appealing.

She recalled in exquisite detail every moment they’d spent together that fateful night in college. A dancing mash-up burned into her memory, it played like a movie in her mind’s eye. Cruel and taunting images squeezing her emotions like a vise. Because when she’d met his gaze earlier, she hadn’t seen a flicker of recognition in his silvery eyes.

Why should he remember her? He was drunk and she was nobody in particular, that had been the unspoken deal between them. Still, it rubbed a raw spot in her heart, because perhaps she’d toyed with dangerous thoughts over the years. Daydreams they would bump into each other in some improbable way and he’d recognize her. Be happy to see her again, and Phoebe would tell him about the amazing daughter he’d fathered. He’d be eager to meet Sarah, and Phoebe could fulfill the need in her daughter that had always left Phoebe feeling helpless. Cozy little daydreams all fuzzy around the edges that now stabbed her in the heart.

Phoebe briefly thought of tapping out. Inside her bag was an emergency cellphone, and it’d be so easy to place the call which would take her off the island. Leaving Jonathon alone to survive on his own. She thought of Sarah who she’d left with Barb, Phoebe’s close friend, for the weeks she’d be gone. Her daughter had been much more excited for her mother’s starring role than Phoebe had been. She’d even made her a brightly colored bracelet for good luck. Phoebe ran her fingers over the soft, woven multicolored strands of floss, and smiled.

This was for her daughter. What the producers had offered Phoebe to be on the show would pay off one of her mortgages and leave her with something to put in savings. A much more secure future to offer her child than scraping by to make ends meet. She’d do anything to keep a roof over their heads, and food on the table. And that anything would include surviving twenty-five days with Jonathon Breck. She gathered her irritation into a useful shield to keep her on course and help her squash the attraction that had never quite died for Jonathon.

Sweat stung her eyes as she worked the bow drill again. Black smudged the wood from the friction, but the fire wouldn’t ignite. She growled.

“Need help?”

The deep rumble of Jonathon’s voice startled Phoebe. She jumped, dropping her instruments.

No
, she wanted to snap, but the sun had started to sink low in the sky, and she wanted to see if she could find some food before it got too dark to safely search.

“Do you think you can use this?” she asked instead, swallowing her pride.

He dropped to his knees, setting two coconuts in the sand. “I’m not the greatest, but I’ll give it a shot.”

He picked up the bow drill and flashed her a big, lopsided grin complete with charming chin dimple.

“I found water.” He nodded to the coconuts. “Hopefully it won’t make us sick.”

He seemed boyishly satisfied for the moment. Phoebe took a deep breath. They had weeks left, she had to get her physical and emotional reactions under control to be able to exist with him. Otherwise she’d lose her mind.

His fingers were long and nimble as they worked the bow drill. Her throat felt scratchy, and she grabbed a coconut, drinking down several gulps of the lukewarm liquid inside. She swiped her hand over her mouth, and watched Jonathon work, ready to correct him if needed before she left to forage. But she discovered he handled the bow quite easily, and much to her chagrin, within a minute she saw a wisp of smoke rise. She quickly leaned down, blowing a soft breath on the coal until the heat caught in the tinder and fire licked up.

Jonathon sat back on his heels and brushed his hands together. “Now what’s for dinner?” he asked, throwing a wink at her.

Phoebe stood, hating the beat of butterfly wings in her stomach his flirtation caused.

“Crabs probably,” she said, striking off toward the waterline. “If we’re lucky enough to find them.”

Jonathon followed along behind her, though she wanted to search by herself.

“I love crab myself,” he said. “With drawn butter.”

“Well, we’ll be hard pressed to find butter here,” she answered, forcing an even tone to her speech.

He lifted a shoulder. “We always have our imaginations, eh? Mine has been running wild since we met.”

The gaze he cast her caused those butterflies to spring up again. She looked down, searching for the scurrying little creatures which would make up their dinner. Having Jonathon close at her side stirred her in ways that left her lightheaded.

She paused, placing her hands on her hips. “Seriously, you can go back to camp and keep an eye on the fire. We can’t risk it going out. I can do this on my own.”
Please leave me alone.

His smile stayed in place, passing to his eyes. They glowed in the afternoon sunlight. “Two will have better luck while foraging I think,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “The fire is going strong, it won’t die on us.”

He turned away from her and kicked at a piece of driftwood. He reached down, scooping his hand into the sand and catching a tiny crab. She was forced to work with him, and together they collected enough to make a halfway decent meal. Without a pot to cook them in, she found a rock and threw it in the fire until hot, then lay the crabs on it as a makeshift hotplate.

“So what do you do for fun, Phoebe?” Jonathon asked while they waited on their food.

“I don’t know, read I guess. I don’t have a lot of free time to spare.” She hugged her knees to her chest, staring at the fire.

“You’re obviously into this survivalist thing, how long have you done it?”

The getting-to-know-you session made her uncomfortable, and a part of her wanted to scream at him.
How do you not remember me? You took my virginity and got me pregnant all in the same night!
She bit her tongue to stem the coming storm of words until she felt some control.

“A long time,” she finally answered.
Shortly after dropping out of college and moving across the country where I could raise my daughter in peace.

She took a stick and rolled several of the crabs off the stone, letting them cool in the sand before collecting them in her palm. Jonathon followed suit as she bit into one. Though small, and gritty, it didn’t taste half-bad. Perhaps tomorrow she’d search for sea urchins, and weave a lobster trap. With the few needed calories in her belly, Phoebe felt a bit better about
Paradise
. Even if she had to share it with the last man on the planet she’d expected.

As the sun set before them, and the sky turned from blue to soft reds and orange, Jonathon tried to draw her into conversation again.

“Tell me about your life, angel,” he said.

She frowned at the pet name. He’d used it before—long, long ago.

“Not much to tell,” she said. “Work, my daughter, more work.”

“You have a daughter? What’s her name?”

She fidgeted, not knowing quite what to do with her hands, so she drew circles in the sand with a fingertip. “Sarah. She’s eleven.”

“I have an adorable niece that age.” Jonathon stretched his long legs before him and rested back on his hands. Phoebe noticed welts left by sand flea bites on the tops of his feet.

Sarah has a cousin she’ll never know.
Sadness flowed into her heart, as did the sense of helplessness she’d carried for so long. There he was, only two feet away, and she still couldn’t break the silence. Sarah was too important to risk on a stranger’s whims. If Jonathon did show interest, then his interest may quickly wane, leaving Sarah with emotional scars.

“It’ll be rather cozy in our hut tonight, don’t you think?” Jonathon asked in a low timbre, interrupting her thoughts. His eyes rested on her, catching the light of the flickering campfire. Beyond him, the water blazed beneath the sun’s last throes of life, setting fire to the crystalline blue. Staining it dark orange, blending ocean into sky.

A cool breeze washed over them, sending a rush of goose pimples over her skin. Or maybe it was the way Jonathon’s deep voice rasped her nerve endings, the way his gaze seduced. Both held a masculine power that reached into the most feminine parts of her. Tightening her pussy, leaving her damp and uncomfortable.

In that moment she realized how strong her weakness was when it came to Jonathon. Whatever magical control drew those supermodels to him, left her just as powerless. A whispered request from his sensual lips and she’d melt into him and beg for more. Her heart pounded in her chest as she stared into his eyes. His hand came up and his knuckles brushed her cheek, stroking back a loose strand of hair. She trembled with the touch, ached for more.

“Phoebe, angel…” His fingers trailed above her ear, and it took a moment to realize he’d turned off her camera. He slipped it over her head, before he reached up and did the same with his. “I’d rather it be only us right now.”

No, no, no, I can’t do this.
She couldn’t catch her breath as he scooted closer. The tips of his fingers traced over her cheek, light as butterfly wings, before his palm settled there. The warmth of it sent a shockwave of desire through her, and she sucked in a hard breath. “Please…”
No.

Jonathon leaned in, his lips hovered over hers. “There’s something about you, angel,” he whispered. “Something I can’t quite put my finger on.”

His words leaked into the fog of lust, chilling the heat. Phoebe pushed back from him and scrambled to her feet, not daring to look back as she strode toward the surf. Tears welled up, and she swiped them away, sniffing. That “something” he’d mentioned had changed her life forever and it seemed he still didn’t remember it. And even if later he did recall their one night, would it matter to him? Probably not, she thought, as escaped tears trickled down her cheeks.

Stars popped to life one by one as Phoebe stared over the Indian Ocean. The half-moon reflected in the waves, night birds took up choruses with frogs and the gulls. She heard the splash of something large as it breached the surface of the water. The peace soothed her rattled emotions, and she took several deep, cleansing breaths of the fragrant air.

Before long the stressful day had taken its toll. Her eyelids grew heavy and she yawned. Sand fleas nipped at her feet and ankles, and she waded into the warm waves. The temptation to take a swim tugged her, but there were many species of sharks and stingrays calling the shallows home. They weren’t known to be particularly dangerous to humans, but nonetheless she didn’t want to risk an encounter while they were most active. Help was miles and miles away.

She turned back to the campsite. Jonathon had disappeared, perhaps inside the hut. Shadows cast by trees made it impossible to see beyond the door. There wouldn’t be much space between them, even with her petite size. Being within touching distance of a man who left her wrecked seemed cruel. Sleeping outside might be better. But avoiding Jonathon wasn’t the answer, they still had a full twenty-four days left on the island. Best to buck up and deal with it. Let him know she
could
resist temptation despite the little voice that mocked otherwise.

She returned to camp and peeped into their shelter. Jonathon lay on the pallet of palm fronds, an arm slung over his face. He appeared to be asleep. Her gaze drifted down his body. Muscular arms, six-pack abs, strong thighs. His boxer briefs stretched over his hips, and she saw the outline of his soft cock beneath. Heat crept into her face and she stepped back, deciding to tend to the fire.

She fed some wood to the flames, and poked at the coals with a stick. Smoke drifted around her, burning her eyes, but chasing away the humming mosquitoes. With nothing else to keep her busy, and exhaustion leaving her shaking, she walked to the hut, placed her headband on the sand next to her island mate’s, and ducked inside the shelter. Jonathon had laid down as close to one wall as possible, yet their arms still brushed as she stretched next to him. His presence filled the small space, and she pulled palm fronds over her, trying to block him out.

“Have any bedtime stories?” he asked.

She started at the sudden sound of his voice. “Sorry, did I wake you?” she asked, silently cursing. Sleeping Jonathon was much easier to deal with than awake Jonathon in their tiny, makeshift home.