Книга - Who Needs Mistletoe?

Who Needs Mistletoe?
Kate Hoffmann


Pilot Sophie practically drools when her last-minute client walks in on Christmas Eve. Wealthy Trey has bedroom eyes, a wicked grin and a body to die for!Sophie can’t think of any Christmas gift she’d enjoy more…









About the Author


KATE HOFFMANN lives in a small town in south-eastern Wisconsin with her two cats and her computer. In her spare time she enjoys golf, genealogy and gardening. She is also involved in local musical theatre activities with school students.




Who Needs Mistletoe?

Kate Hoffmann





www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




Table of Contents


Cover (#u3f87b67e-0f6f-5da2-9058-c0b3ed61eeba)

About the Author (#u1bd3b16f-1b69-5a88-ab57-77cdf8dacfcf)

Title Page (#u704e2c3e-7718-565b-872a-bc49d0805ef1)

Chapter One (#u1b2b16a6-ece8-508c-bddf-b1a7c1d58059)

Chapter Two (#u928960a3-c550-57ee-ad22-defd8625246e)

Chapter Three (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)




Chapter One


THE ARTIFICIAL CHRISTMAS TREE looked even tackier than it had the previous year, the plastic pine needles worn thin in spots and the wire branches drooping. Sophie Madigan hung the last of the ornaments on a high bough, then stepped back, forcing a smile. “Doesn’t that look festive, Papa?”

She glanced over her shoulder at her father, who sat at the huge desk in their parlor, his reading glasses perched on the end of his nose, aviation manuals and charts spread out in front of him. He nodded distractedly, then took another sip of his whiskey. It was barely noon and he had already poured himself a drink, Sophie mused.

“I should have bought some new lights,” she continued. “Half of these are burned out.”

“Looks fine, darlin’,” he murmured, without even looking up.

Sophie sighed and began to gather the boxes and bags strewn over the plank floor. Why did she even bother? Trying to celebrate Christmas in the middle of the South Pacific was a lost cause. She remembered Christmases past, when she and her parents had traveled to places where entire towns had been decorated, places where it actually snowed.

Outside their small house on the tiny Polynesian island of Taratea, the trade winds kept the temperatures at a constant eighty-three degrees and the wet season made the air thick with humidity. The heady scent of tiare and hibiscus and frangipani seeped through the shutters that lined the lanai and she could hear the soft patter of raindrops on the tin roof. Sometimes it seemed as if it would never stop raining.

Sophie had hoped to spend this Christmas with her mother in Paris. But for the third year in a row, she’d reluctantly refused the invitation, choosing instead to stay with her father, Jack “Madman” Madigan. Christmas in Paris would have been a happy affair. Her uncles and aunts were all excellent cooks and there would have been food, followed by gifts, followed by more food.

When she broached the subject of spending the holidays in Paris, her father had told her to go. But as the time to leave got closer, Sophie saw him sink further and further into a deep depression. He had no one except her. No family, few friends. Since his eyesight had gone bad, he’d cut himself off from nearly everyone.

Sophie turned away from the tree and crossed the room, peering over her father’s shoulder. “What are you working on?”

He had a map of the Society Islands spread out in front of him and he was studying a small archipelago through a magnifying glass, squinting to see the fine print. Her father’s eyesight had been failing for nearly five years. It had become so bad, he’d been grounded, prohibited from doing what he did best.

Since then, Sophie had been forced to take over his air-charter operation, making almost daily flights between Tahiti and any one of the fourteen inhabited islands nearby. To make ends meet, they’d sold off four of the five planes to pay her father’s debts. With one small plane left and only one pilot—Sophie herself—they made just enough to get by.

Sophie had tried to convince her father to sell the last plane and move back to the States where he could get medical care and she could get a better-paying job, but Jack held out hope that his eyesight would suddenly return and he’d be back in business. “Are we going on a trip?”

“I’m mapping out a flight plan for you for tomorrow,” he murmured.

“I didn’t know I had a charter,” Sophie said, frowning. “Papa, tomorrow is Christmas Eve. Don’t you think we could take the day off, maybe do a little celebrating? The tree is up. I thought I might make a nice dinner and we could open our gifts and maybe even listen to some Christmas music.”

“This guy is willing to pay ten thousand American for three days’ worth of flying. I didn’t think it was a job you’d want to refuse.”

She gasped. “Ten thousand dollars? For three days’ work?”

Jack nodded, then handed her a slip of paper. “His name is Peter Shelton. He’s some bigwig for the Shelton Hotel chain. They’re looking for a new location to build some fancy-schmancy new resort and they want to buy a whole island, make it real exclusive. You need to meet him at eight tomorrow morning at Faaa. At the hangar.”

Sophie stared down at the name and phone number written on the scrap of paper. “Quelle chance,” she murmured. “Peter Shelton. Shelton Hotels.” He sounded like a pretty important guy. Anyone who worked on Christmas Eve and paid more than three thousand dollars a day for a charter had to be important. “Why would he choose us?”

“Probably because no one else would take the job on Christmas Eve,” Jack replied. “Here,” he said, pointing to the map. “Fly him up here to this little atoll. There’s a nice-size island with a decent lagoon.”

“Suaneva? Didn’t they try to build a resort there once?”

“About thirty years ago. But the developer ran out of money. The lagoon is a little tight for landing and taking off, but a good pilot should be able to get in and out. Hell, if he decides to build there, I can fly his workers in and out. We’ll haul freight, and later the guests. We could work out an exclusive long-term contract and maybe buy a few new planes. I want you to really impress this guy, Sophie girl. Make him see that a partnership with Madigan Air would be good for both of us.”

Sophie rested her hand on his shoulder. “Yes, Papa.” She knew it was all just a pipe dream. Or maybe he did expect her to spend the rest of her life flying for him. She’d found a doctor in Sydney who’d promised a simple but expensive surgery for her father’s sight problems, but when she’d mentioned this to him, Jack had completely discounted the option, preferring to stick to the herbal remedies a local tahua woman had prescribed.

Besides, it wasn’t as if they had the money for the operation. Though ten thousand American dollars would go a long way toward paying for it, it still wasn’t enough. Sooner or later, she’d have to accept the fact her life was here, caring for her father and eking out a living for them both as best she could.

She glanced around the small fare they called home. Built onto a hillside overlooking the water and perched on stilts, the interior of the cottage was small, just enough room for a few bedrooms and a parlor. But most of their living was done outside, on the wide lanai that circled the house.

Tourists would say she was living in paradise, but to Sophie, it often felt like a prison. Unable to enjoy the beauty that surrounded her, she longed for the excitement of living in a city, the noise and the people, never knowing what was around the next corner.

Slipping out of the house, she walked across the small lawn to a point that overlooked the bay. People paid thousands of dollars to come and admire a view like this, she mused. The steeply raked crags covered with lush vegetation, the turquoise water and white sand, the little fare, surrounded with flowering vines and bushes.

Perhaps she might convince her father to sell and find a place in Pape‘ete. Maybe then she could meet some people her own age, maybe even find a man to distract her from her troubles. She flopped down onto the lawn and stared up at the sky, the dampness from the rain soaking through her pareu.

Though she was emotionally exhausted, something inside her couldn’t seem to rest. She felt as though she was ready to jump out of her skin. She smoothed her hands over her body and closed her eyes as the rain pelted her face. The sensations her hands evoked were enough to remind her how long it had been since she’d been touched by another.

It had been nearly a year since she’d enjoyed the pleasures a man’s body offered. Though her Irish-American father would be more than happy if she decided to enter a convent, her French mother had given Sophie a very practical and healthy attitude about sex. One must accept that a woman has desires, her mother had told her, and they must be fulfilled. There is no sin in acting upon these feelings. As long as both parties agree there will be no promises the next morning.

After she finished flying Peter Shelton around the islands, she’d take a little bit of the money, buy herself a new dress and find herself a man, Sophie decided. There were always tourists at the resorts on Tahiti and Bora Bora, handsome men who’d offer a temporary diversion.

She’d make it her goal to ring in the New Year in the bed of a sexy man. “I’ll make it happen,” Sophie muttered, stretching her arms above her head and arching her back. “A lover for New Year’s Eve. And for New Year’s Day.”

But would a few nights in a man’s bed really satisfy her? Or would she still have to make some more drastic changes in her life in order to be happy? “I’ll start with the lover,” she said, sitting up. “Then we’ll see what happens.”



TREY SHELTON GLANCED at his watch then cursed softly. He was already an hour late and the taxi he’d hired at the hotel had managed to get him to the airport but no farther. “Are you sure you don’t know where Madigan Air is? It’s a well-known charter company.”

The native driver peered at him in the rearview mirror. “Non. Maybe this way?” he said in heavily accented English, pointing to a small cluster of hangars on the periphery of the Faaa airport.

“Let’s try there,” Trey suggested. “Someone should know.” He’d hired the plane for three days, but he hoped to get his business settled early so he might enjoy a short vacation in paradise. He’d spent last night with an attractive Polynesian dancer from one of the local clubs and he’d promised to meet her that evening for dinner. Though she’d been interested in spending the night in his suite, Trey had begged off, explaining he had an early morning.

Since he’d begun working for his father a year ago, Trey had been forced to leave his jet-set Casanova lifestyle behind. Six months ago, he’d ended a relationship with a somewhat crazy, but sexy, English actress. Since then, he’d had a few one-night stands, but they’d left him more confused than satisfied.

He’d spent his adult life indulging in one whim after the other, all of it fueled by a seemingly bottomless trust fund. But now, at age twenty-nine, the money was almost gone and the lifestyle with it. His father’s job offer was his only option.

“Ah!” the driver cried, pointing at a rusty sign dangling from above a hangar door. “Nous sommes ici! Madigan Air. Voilà!”

Trey paid the driver in colorful French Pacific franc notes, then grabbed his bag and slid out of the cab. He slowly walked through the huge overhead door into the interior of the hangar. The place was a wreck, parts strewn everywhere, a bent propeller dangling from the ceiling, an old girlie calendar hanging on an open office door. A small amphibious plane was parked inside. Either the guy on the phone had oversold the company, or Trey was in the wrong place.

“Hello?” he called. “Anybody home?”

“Bonjour!”

The female voice came from the direction of the plane.

“Is this Madigan Air?”

“Oui. This is. You’re late,” the voice said. “When you didn’t come, I decided to do some maintenance. We’ll be ready to go in about fifteen minutes. Just find a seat and relax. I won’t be long.”

Though she spoke flawless English, Trey could detect a French accent. He approached the plane, circling around the front until he came upon a slight figure standing on a small ladder, her head bent over an open engine compartment. He expected her to be cleaning the windows or polishing the mirrors, not wielding a wrench!

She wore a skirt made of fabric so thin he could see her bare legs through it, a tiny T-shirt didn’t even cover her midriff and her dark hair hung well below her shoulders, held back by a colorful scarf. She’d tucked a flower behind her ear, the creamy-white color a stark contrast to her deeply tanned skin. “Are you sure you should be messing with that? Maybe you should wait for the pilot.”

Her head snapped up and he met her gaze. Trey’s breath caught in his throat as the most stunning pair of sapphire eyes fixed on his face. He watched as her expression quickly shifted from thinly veiled annoyance to embarrassment. A pretty blush colored her cheeks and she forced a smile. “I—I am the pilot, monsieur,” she murmured.

Trey couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re the pilot?”

She straightened her spine. “What? You don’t think a woman might be capable of flying a plane?”

A smudge of grease marred her exquisite complexion. Even from this distance, he’d become lost in her eyes, rimmed by long, dark lashes. Her features were perfectly balanced, and even without a bit of makeup, her beauty stole the breath from his lungs. “No. Of course not. I was just…surprised, that’s all.”

She grabbed a rag, wiped her hands, then climbed down the ladder. “It seems I’m both. Pilot and mechanic. Sophie Madigan.” She said her first name in the French way, with the accent on the last syllable.

“This is your plane?” he inquired.

“No, it belongs to my father. But I fly it. I am a licensed pilot,” she said. “There is no need to worry, Mr. Shelton. I know what I’m doing.”

He reached out and took her slender fingers in his, shaking her hand. God, she was stunning. This island was teeming with gorgeous women, but this woman put them all to shame. She was slender and delicate, with long legs and graceful arms. Her clothing clung to every curve of her body and if he had to guess, Trey would venture she wasn’t wearing a whole lot underneath.

“You are younger than I expected,” she said, a tiny smile curving the corners of her mouth. Her gaze was still fixed on his face, her eyes slowly taking in his features. For a moment, he thought she might say more.

She didn’t seem to recognize him, even though his name should have given him away. Trey’s reputation as a celebrity playboy usually followed him wherever he went. The press had dubbed him the male equivalent of Paris Hilton. They’d documented his exploits with women and poked fun at the various careers he’d attempted.

Most women found his bad-boy reputation irresistible. But he found the thought of going unrecognized for once intriguing. What would it be like to be judged on his own merits rather than an image perpetrated by the press?

“My friends call me Trey,” he said, turning on his most dazzling smile. She still showed no sign of recognition.

“Très? Très what?” Sophie asked, frowning.

He chuckled softly. “My name is actually Peter Shelton the Third. My grandfather was the first and my father was the second. I’m the third. Trey.”

“Oh, like un, deux, trois. Well, that makes sense then,” Sophie said, dragging her hand from his. “But I’ll call you Mr. Shelton. Okay, just have a seat and let me finish and we’ll be on our way.” She climbed back up the ladder, then gave him an odd look.

“I’m good right here,” he said. “I’d be happy to give you a hand.”

She shrugged and went back to work. His gaze slowly drifted along the length of her body, lingering on her backside. Hell, he’d flown in a lot of planes, but he’d never had a pilot like this. The thought of going up with her made him a little uneasy. Was it because she was a beautiful woman? He couldn’t deny his immediate attraction to her, so why even bother? Or was it because she seemed so young?

“Do you mind if I ask you a question?” he ventured.

“It depends upon the question,” she said.

“How old are you?”

“This is not a proper question for a man to ask a woman,” she said, sending him a coy smile.

“But I think it’s highly proper for a passenger to ask his pilot.”

“I’m twenty-six,” she said.

“Are you French?” he asked.

“Half,” Sophie said, glancing up and bracing her arms on the edge of the engine compartment. “And the other half, American. Why? Is that a problem, too?”

He shook his head. “I was just curious. The accent. It’s a little confusing.”

“I can talk American,” Sophie said, her accent shifting with lightning speed. “If that would suit your ears better.”

He shook his head, grinning. “No, I like the way you talk,” he said. “It’s…exotic.”

His words seemed to take her aback for a moment. She gave him an uneasy look, then returned to her work. “My father has chosen some spots he thought you’d like to see. Is there anywhere specific you want to go?”

“Three islands,” Trey said, pulling a crumpled sheet of paper from his leather messenger bag. “Waruhatu, Pareaa and Suaneva.”

“Those are all on my list,” she said. She glanced over at him, then reached up to close the cowling over the engine. “All done. I’ll just do the preflight and we’ll be ready to leave in about ten minutes. There are some cold drinks in the cooler over there if you want to grab one. You can stow the cooler behind the front seat, if you’d care to help.”

She brushed by him as she returned the wrench to the tool cart and Trey caught the scent of her perfume, or maybe it was the flower in her hair. Whatever it was, he found the smell incredibly intoxicating. What was this beautiful girl doing in such a place? he wondered.

True to her word, they were rolling down the runway ten minutes later, Trey strapped into the passenger seat and Sophie Madigan behind the controls. Though Trey had never been afraid of flying, something about this situation made him nervous. For the first time in his life, he’d placed himself in the hands of a beautiful woman. The most he’d ever surrendered to a woman in the past was his body and even then, it had never been complete surrender.

The plane smoothly lifted off the runway and soared into a steeply banked turn over the water. As they continued to climb, Trey closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. She seemed to be a very competent pilot, at least so far.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

He opened his eyes to find her staring at him, her brow furrowed. “Yeah.”

“If you’re going to be sick, there’s a bag under the seat.”

“I’m not going to be sick,” he said. “I’m just not a big fan of small planes.”

She shrugged again. “Don’t worry. I can put this plane down anywhere. That’s the benefit of an amphibious plane. Water or land.”

“How about on the side of that mountain over there?” he said.

“Why would I want to put it down there?” she asked.

He’d never met a woman quite so unimpressed with him. Trey knew he was a handsome guy, and charming, quite the catch according to everything he’d read in the tabloids. Although he wasn’t sure how much of the attraction had to do with him, and how much with his money. But now that the trust fund he’d inherited from his grandfather’s estate was virtually gone, he’d had to make some changes.

In less than a year, when he turned thirty, his father would decide whether to give him his share of the larger Shelton family trust, millions set aside for each Shelton heir, controlled by a man who thought Peter Shelton III had nothing substantial to offer the world.

To prove himself, Trey had gone to work for Shelton Hotels, focusing on a new division that developed smaller, more exclusive resorts, the kind of properties that appealed to his celebrity friends.

To Trey’s surprise, he enjoyed the work. He’d found himself building resorts in his head—from the basic architecture to the linens in the rooms. After living in hotels nearly his entire adult life, Trey knew what worked and what didn’t. And he was beginning to wonder if he might have something to offer the family business.

It was still a rather revolutionary concept—Trey Shelton, giving up the fast life for a real job. He figured he’d decide what to do with his future once he convinced his father to release his share of the Shelton family trust. If he still found the job appealing, then maybe he’d stick around.

He looked over at Sophie. She seemed quite relaxed behind the controls, as if she’d been a pilot for a long time. “Where did you learn how to fly?” he asked.

“I just picked it up. I flew all the time with my father, and one day we were doing preflight together and he put me in the pilot’s seat and we took off. He taught me what I needed to know and I got my license.”

“How old were you?” Trip asked.

She smiled as she remembered. “I was twelve when I first got behind the controls.” Sophie laughed softly. “I think my dad always wanted a son. So, for a while, I was happy to become that son.”

“I think you make a much better girl than a boy,” he teased.

Trey watched her face as another smile curled the corners of her pretty mouth. Maybe she wasn’t immune to his charms, after all. He certainly found Sophie intriguing. He didn’t see a wedding band, so she probably wasn’t married, but beyond that, his radar wasn’t working. He couldn’t seem to read her reactions to him. Had she been flattered by the compliment or just amused at the attempt?

He reached out, curious to push the issue a bit further. His movement startled her, causing her to draw away. “Sorry,” he said, pointing to her cheek. “You have a smudge of grease there and it’s been bothering me.”

“Really?” She reached up and rubbed her cheek, missing it entirely. “There?”

Trey shook his head. “Do you mind?”

Sophie hesitated, then shook her head. “Not at all.”

He gently rubbed a spot just above her jaw, the grease wiping away easily. Yet he didn’t stop. Instead, Trey continued to smooth his thumb over her soft skin, fascinated by the silken feel of it. “There,” he finally said. “Perfect.”

She seemed to be as affected by his touch as he was, shifting uneasily in her seat and trying to focus her attention on the instruments in front of her. If she’d been driving a car, he might have asked her to pull over so they could explore his attraction in a little greater detail. But unfortunately, there weren’t any curbs in the sky and one couldn’t just park a plane in the middle of a flight.

Trey slowly pulled his hand away. “When will we see our first island?” he asked.

“I’m heading out to Suaneva first and then we’ll work our way back to Tahiti.”

They flew for a long time in silence, Trey studying a report on power-generating windmills he’d brought with him in between watching her. He’d been right to call her exotic. Though she spoke like an American, she acted more like the French women he’d known—haughty, aloof, indifferent at times. And then there was a bit of Polynesian in her, as well, in her dress, in the careless addition of a flower behind her ear, in the sexy little tattoo above her ankle.

She glanced over at him and caught him staring. Trey quickly turned his gaze back to the report.

“What are you reading?” she asked.

He held it up, showing her the cover. “Just researching an idea I had. It’s nothing.”

“Windmills?”

“They’re ecologically friendly,” he said.

He’d been turning the idea over in his head ever since his father had put him on the payroll. Why not build an eco-friendly resort in the South Pacific? He’d have to deal with the problems of providing power and water to a small island anyway and there were now methods to do it without impacting the environment.

“This is not really a good season to be seeing our islands,” Sophie said.

“I’ve noticed it rains a lot.”

“It’s the rainy season,” she said with a smile. “Sometimes, it rains for days.” She looked out the window of the plane. “Today is a good day. I can’t promise you that tomorrow you’ll even be able to see anything below us.”

Trey grabbed his messenger bag from between his feet and pulled out a pad of paper and a pen. “Tell me everything you know about Suaneva,” he demanded, anxious to keep her engaged in conversation.

He listened, silently taking notes as she explained the physical topography of a Polynesian atoll in comparison with an island. But he was less interested in the facts than he was in the sound of her voice.

“Suaneva is an atoll. An atoll begins with a volcano sticking out of the water,” she explained. She let go of the controls and turned to him to gesture with her hands. But when she saw the startled look on his face, she sent him an apologetic smile. “I set the autopilot.”

Trey exhaled the breath he’d sucked in. “Oh. Well, fine then.”

“Coral builds up around the base beneath the water’s surface,” she continued, “and over the years, the volcano top falls away until all that is left is the coral ring and a huge lagoon in the center. Vegetation grows on the ring and beaches form and you have an atoll. They look like little rings in the sea.” She pointed out his window. “There. You see? This atoll is part of the Archipel des Tuamotu. The Tuamotu Archipelago. We are about 150 miles from Pape‘ete. Tahiti is part of les Îles du Vent. The Windward Islands. Mostly mountaintops that haven’t erupted or disintegrated. Although there are many atolls, too. Vous comprenez?”

He stared at her hands, wondering what it might be like if she actually reached out and touched him. Trey wanted to capture her fingers and pull them to his lips, to kiss each neatly manicured tip until he got a reaction from her. How could such a simple gesture intrigue him so? “Yes,” he murmured.

“In an atoll, there are often separate islands in the ring and these are called motu. A motu can be very large or quite small, but they are…lower. Flatter than an island like Bora Bora.”

What he wanted right now didn’t have anything to do with islands or resorts or trust funds. Listening to her voice, watching her beautiful mouth, was pushing his thoughts in a very different direction. If he had his way, he’d demand she land the damn plane so he could drag her into his arms and kiss her. And once he sensed her surrender, he’d strip off all their clothes, lie in the warm sand and make love to her. It wasn’t just a fantasy. There was definitely an attraction between them. He could see it every time their eyes met.

But as long as they were in the air, nothing could happen. Trey wondered how long it might take to make their tour before heading back to Pape‘ete. He could always just cut the trip short once he saw Suaneva. Hell, maybe it would suit his purposes perfectly and there would be no reason to continue. Or maybe they could simply continue tomorrow, after they’d spent the night together in his bed.

“How long before we reach Suaneva?” he asked. SOPHIE GLANCED DOWN AT HER hands clutching the steering yoke of the plane. They were white-knuckled, frozen in place, the only part of her body that looked the way she felt.

It all happened so quickly Sophie hadn’t found time to think. From the moment her gaze had focused on this gorgeous man, she hadn’t been able to breathe. And the instant Trey Shelton took her hand in his, she’d felt a current race through her body, setting every sense on edge.

She couldn’t remember a man ever affecting her in such an intense and immediate way. Had she possessed any common sense at all, she would have refused to take him up. Flying with Trey was like flying drunk! Every nerve in her body had shifted into overdrive. The scent of his cologne filled her head and the feel of his warm hand still tingled on the tips of her fingers. His voice sent a shiver down her spine and she could barely stand to look at him without moaning.

Of all the times for her to fall apart, this was the worst possible moment. A man as sexy as Trey didn’t just walk into her life every day. And if she had any intentions of seducing him, she couldn’t make it seem easy. Her mother had taught her a lot of valuable lessons about the opposite sex, and one of the most important was to let the man take up the chase. She wanted to be elusive and mysterious, but right now she just felt breathless, giddy—desperate. She’d vowed to have a man by New Year’s and she was a week ahead of schedule.

Thank goodness they were flying over Suaneva, she mused. At least she had conversation to distract her from studying his handsome face and incredible body. Yes, she’d imagined him undressed more than once and as they’d flown northwest from Pape‘ete, she’d managed to catalog each perfect feature.

He had an attitude that many American men possessed, an easy confidence that made his masculinity even more powerful. His smile was stunning, his features rugged yet refined, and his hazel eyes were so penetrating she thought he could see right through her flimsy facade.

“Suaneva is one of the smaller atolls,” she said in a shaky voice. “Though the lagoon is small, there’s a fair amount of land to build on.”

Trey peered out the window. “I was told someone already tried building a resort there.”

“Yes, but I don’t know what’s left of it. Can you see anything down there?” She banked the plane steeply to the right to give him a better view, but the moment she eased into the turn, Sophie felt the engine hesitate.

A few seconds later, it sputtered. “Merde,” she murmured. Maybe it was just moisture in the fuel line. That sometimes happened during the rainy season. The engine cut out and Sophie’s instincts immediately kicked in. She switched to the auxiliary tank and tried the ignition, but to her surprise, it wouldn’t turn over. The battery was dead and without it, there’d be no way to restart the engine.

“What’s wrong?” Trey asked.

She and her father had practiced dead-stick landings on several occasions and his words came back to her now. Keep the nose up, maintain airspeed and find a smooth place to land.

“The engine cut out,” Sophie replied, attempting another start.

“I can see that,” he said, his voice laced with concern. “Don’t you think you ought to start it up again?”

“I’m trying. But I need to pull us out of this turn first.” She lined herself up with the tiny lagoon below, then pushed the ignition for the engine again. There was no response.

“I’m going to have to put us down,” she said.

“What?”

She heard the panic in his tone. “Don’t worry. We’ll land, and I’ll radio for help. We’ll be fine. I’ve done this before.”

“Run out of gas in midair?”

Sophie shook her head. “We didn’t run out of gas. I think there’s moisture in the fuel. I drained the sumps, but sometimes this happens.”

“Sometimes you crash?” he asked.

“No. Usually, the engine will start up again. But the battery seems to be dead. Don’t worry. I can put us safely down on the lagoon.” She glanced over at him to see a dubious expression on his face. “You’re not going to die, Mr. Shelton. It might be a bumpy landing, so make sure you’re strapped in. If the plane flips in the water, kick open the window and get out as fast as you can.”

“I knew I should have trusted my instincts,” he muttered. “The moment I saw the inside of that hangar, the moment I saw you fixing that engine, I should have just turned around and walked out. But no, I brushed my doubts aside. You were beautiful and I figured, why not spend the afternoon trying to seduce you? This is exactly what I deserve. I put my need to get laid in front of my need to keep breathing, and now I’m about to die.”

“You’re not going to die,” Sophie repeated, a warm blush rising on her cheeks. He had wanted to seduce her? The thought made her dizzy with desire. She drew a shaky breath and pointed to the instrument panel. “I want you to watch this gauge. This is my airspeed. I need you to call it out to me.” She could keep an eye on the gauge herself, but this would give him something to do.

She ran through the checklist in her head, her father’s voice speaking to her. Maintain your composure, fly the airplane, watch your glide speed. Sophie adjusted the flaps and lined the plane up with the near end of the lagoon. Landing the plane without power would be tricky, but she was more worried about coral heads in the lagoon tearing apart the plane’s floats or stopping their forward motion once they hit the water. If they hit coral, it might flip the plane. If they hit the beach too fast, they’d flip, as well. She banked slightly, determined to give herself as much water to work with as possible.

She drew another deep breath, said a silent prayer and began her descent to the lagoon. If they died, she’d never get to enjoy sex again, much less sex with a man as beautiful as Trey Shelton. So, she’d just have to make sure she landed the damn plane safely.

Trey called out her airspeed, but Sophie could feel the plane respond. Outside, the air rushed by and she was amazed by the silence that surrounded them. For a moment, she worried she might be coming in too fast and may overshoot her landing zone, but then the headwind picked up and the plane drifted lower.

And then, to her relief, they touched down on the water. The plane skimmed toward the water’s edge and she held her breath, ready to use the rudder to spin them around if it looked like they might be in trouble. But in the end, the plane gently slid to a stop twenty feet from the shore of the lagoon.

With trembling hands, Sophie unhooked her seat belt and shoved her shoulder against the door of the plane. The door gave way and she tumbled out, falling into waist-deep water. Floundering, she struggled to the shore, her heart slamming in her chest.

The adrenaline was pumping so fast she felt as if she could run a mile in ten seconds flat. When she reached the beach, she braced her hands on her knees and gulped in a deep breath, trying to slow her pounding heart.

“Shit, that was incredible,” Trey shouted as he followed her to the shore. “You’d think that was the way we were supposed to land. I mean, you just set us down perfectly.” He stood in front of her, his khakis soaked, his hands braced on his hips. “How did you do that?”

She looked up at him, taking in his awestruck expression, still gasping for breath. Then, with a burst of energy, Sophie lurched forward, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

Trey stumbled back, grasping onto her waist to balance them both since Sophie’s knees had gone boneless beneath her. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pushed his other hand through her hair, tossing her scarf aside. Sophie was aware of every detail of the kiss, the way his mouth opened beneath hers, the sweet taste of his tongue, the immediate rush of desire that seemed to propel them forward.

Slowly, he pulled her down into the sand, never breaking contact. He stretched out beside her, his hand smoothing along her thigh until it reached her backside. Sophie moaned softly, rolling over on top of him, pressing her hips against his.

His reaction to the kiss was immediate, his erection hard against her belly evidence of that fact. Sophie reached between them and touched him, slowly rubbing her palm against his desire. This was crazy, but yet, it seemed so right. Had they been over the ocean, they might be slowly sinking to the bottom right now, both of them drowned, never to be found.

But they’d been lucky and they were alive and she wanted to celebrate that fact. Sophie fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, damp from his trip through the lagoon. When she became frustrated, Trey grabbed his collar and yanked, the buttons popping open all at once.

His chest was smooth and finely muscled, exactly what Sophie expected to find beneath the cotton shirt. It had been so long since she’d touched a man intimately, that she wanted to take her time, enjoying the feel of his body beneath her hands.

He didn’t appear to object to what she was doing. She risked a glance up and saw his eyes were closed. Why not take advantage of the situation? she wondered. If she radioed for help, they’d have an hour, maybe two, alone on this island. Right now, she wasn’t in any hurry to be rescued.

Sophie pressed her lips to the center of his chest, then traced a trail of kisses to his collarbone. If she was going to take a lover, then this man was as good as any. Unless he already had a woman in his life.

Sophie paused, knowing the only way she could proceed was to know for sure. Though she had an open attitude about sexual desire, she’d experienced, firsthand, what an affair could do to a marriage. Her father’s infidelities had been the cause of her parents’ divorce. She certainly didn’t want to be the other woman in any man’s marriage, even a man as sexy and geographically available as Trey was.

His hand skimmed up her belly, slipping beneath her shirt to cup her bare breast. Drawing a deep breath, Sophie placed her hand over his. “Wait,” she murmured.

He froze, his own breath catching in his throat. “Sorry. I thought—”

“No, it’s all right. I just have a quick question.”

“Yes, I do,” he said, chuckling softly.

Sophie frowned. It was an answer, but to what, she wasn’t sure. “You do? Do what?”

“I have…protection.” He reached around and pulled his wallet from his pants pocket. “I have two. And I might even have a few more in my bag.”

Though she was glad he’d come prepared, it didn’t really soothe her doubts. “I wanted to ask if you were involved. Married, engaged, otherwise spoken for.”

“Would it make a difference?” he asked.

“Yes,” Sophie replied. “I’m not a home-wrecker.”

He bent closer and pressed a kiss to a spot just below her ear. “No,” he whispered. “Not married, not engaged, not even dating. Completely free to do whatever it is you want me to do.”

Sophie stared into his eyes. She didn’t know this man and couldn’t tell if he spoke the truth. If he didn’t, she’d deal with the consequences later. Sitting up, she pulled her top over her head and tossed it into the sand. Slowly, his gaze drifted from her face to her breasts and back up again.

Following her lead, he shrugged out of his shirt. Neither one of them was dressed in much, owing to the humid weather. Her pareu came off next, leaving her in just a skimpy thong. Sophie had always been comfortable with her body and was used to sunbathing naked. But the way he looked at her, with such desire, she wondered if she should have taken things a bit slower.

She reached for her pareu, ready to cover up again, but Trey caught her hand. He slowly got up, his body casting a shadow over her, and unzipped his khakis, then skimmed them down over his hips. He stood there, wearing only cotton boxers, tented out in the front where his erection pressed against the damp fabric.

There was no going back, Sophie mused as she stared up at him. She held out her hand and he lay down beside her in the sand, drawing her into another kiss. This time, it was slow and sensual, his mouth possessing hers, his hands skimming over her nearly naked body.

She didn’t want to go back. She didn’t want to be rescued. For now, Sophie was exactly where she needed to be—alone, on a deserted South Pacific island, with a man who was about to make delicious love to her.




Chapter Two


WHEN HE’D CRAWLED OUT OF BED that morning, Trey had assumed he’d be in for a rather ordinary day, spent cooped up in a small plane with a competent male pilot. As he teased at Sophie’s tongue with his, he couldn’t help but wonder at this odd turn of luck. The scene was straight out of the encyclopedia of male fantasies.

Stuck on a deserted tropical island, with a beautiful, naked woman who’d ripped off her clothes right in front of his eyes. Maybe he’d actually died when the plane crashed and this was his version of heaven. “Touch me,” he murmured as he dragged his lips from hers.

She skimmed her fingers over his belly and wrapped them around his cock, the fabric of his boxers creating an enticing friction. Trey bit back a moan. It sure felt real, his heart pounding in his chest, his body aching with need. But how could he prove it to himself?

He slowly drew back, cupping her face in his palm and looking into her eyes. Did it really matter? After all the debauchery in his life, he’d ended up in heaven, with a sexy companion. He’d done pretty well for himself. If he was really dead, then dead wasn’t so bad. Trey kissed her again, smoothing his palm over her shoulder and arm until his fingers were laced through hers.

Drawing her hand over her head, Trey gently pushed her back into the sand, his body stretched alongside hers. He buried his face in the curve of her neck, inhaling her exotic scent as he kissed her. Slowly, he moved lower until his lips fixed on her nipple. He teased and Sophie arched toward him, twisting her body until a tiny moan slipped from her lips.

The sun, filtered through a thin cover of clouds, was hot on their bodies, but it felt good to be free of clothes. When she slipped her hand beneath the waistband of his boxers, Trey quickly stripped them off. A moment later, her thong was gone and there was nothing left between them but the salty ocean breeze and the sand clinging to their skin.

Though the seduction began in a rush of desire, the pace had grown almost lazy. There was time, and Trey wanted to take advantage of every moment. But when Sophie touched him again, without his boxers as a barrier, he wondered if he was already too far gone.

He pulled her body against his, their hips meeting, his shaft hot and hard between them. Seduction had always come so easily to him, the clever balancing act between pleasure and complete surrender. But this meeting was different. As she drew her leg up along his hip, he knew he was just an instant away from burying himself deep inside her.

He wanted it now, needed it to happen, as if it would provide proof he was still among the living. Breaking contact for just a moment, Trey grabbed his khakis and pulled out his wallet, retrieving the condoms he kept there for “emergencies.” Though the little packages wouldn’t fix the plane, they’d certainly come in handy.

The moment she saw the condoms, Sophie grabbed one from his hand and tore open the plastic. He held his breath as she smoothed it over his cock, her touch causing a groan to rumble in his chest. It was obvious she wasn’t into long, slow seductions. She preferred to skip the preliminaries and head right to the main event.

Pulling her beneath him, Trey drew her legs up alongside his hips and slowly entered her. A sigh slipped from her body and he watched as a smile played across her damp mouth.

“Oh,” she murmured, as he withdrew. Her hands clutched at his ass, as he buried himself again.

Trey had always been able to control his desires, but this felt far too good. Maybe it was the leftover adrenaline from his near-death experience. Maybe it was the exotic setting. But most likely, it was this woman writhing beneath him, so incredibly beautiful and uninhibited.

“We are alive, aren’t we?” he murmured, his hands braced beside her shoulders.

“We are alive,” she replied, meeting his gaze.

He slowly began to move, but every sensation seemed heightened by what they’d experienced. When she touched him, it was as if an electric current passed between them. The taste of her mouth was like the sweetest fruit he’d ever eaten. And the sound of her voice wove a silken web around him, until he felt as if he were born to do her bidding.

Her fingers dug into his hips as his rhythm increased. Pleasure pushed aside rational thought and Trey found himself lost in the feel of her body beneath his. He was so close, yet he stopped himself from surrender, knowing she was almost there herself.

A moment later, Sophie cried out, arching against him, her body trembling. It was only then that Trey allowed himself to give in, to feel her body convulsing around him. He teetered on the edge, the sensation of exquisite anticipation lasting far longer than it ever had before. And then, his orgasm blindsided him, coming from deep in his core.

He’d never felt such an incredible surge of pleasure, his body shuddering, driving deeper, until he was completely spent. Trey’s arms grew weak and he lowered himself to lie beside her, pulling her along with him, still intimately connected.

She winced and he smoothed the hair from her eyes. “Are you all right?”

“Something bit me, I think,” she said, reaching back to rub her hand over her backside. “There are little crabs in the sand.”

Trey grinned, then gently rolled her over, holding his breath as he slipped from her body. He brushed the sand from her skin and examined the spot she pointed to. “It looks a little red,” he said. Bending close, he kissed her backside. “Better?”

“Much,” she murmured. She reached down to caress him, removing the condom as she smoothed her hand over his still-rigid shaft.

He was ready to go again, but condoms were in limited supply. If they were going to spend any time on the island, he might need to conserve his resources.

When they’d both caught their breath, Trey levered to his feet and reached down to help her up. Lacing his fingers through hers, he led her to the lagoon. Silently, they waded in, washing the sand from their naked bodies as the warm water enveloped them.

Sophie submerged, then swam underwater until she was a fair distance away. When she broke the surface, she smoothed her hair back and tipped her face up to the sky. “When did you first decide you wanted to seduce me?” she asked.

Trey frowned.

“You said in the plane, when we were going down, that you intended to seduce me. When did you decide?”

Trey swam over to her, then stood, his feet barely touching the bottom of the lagoon. “A man will say a lot of crazy things when he’s about to die.”

She sighed softly. “I knew the moment I saw you,” she said.

“Knew I’d seduce you?” Trey asked.

She shook her head. “No. That I’d seduce you,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone. She submerged and then swam underwater toward the plane. Trey watched her naked body move through the water of the sun-dappled lagoon. When she popped back up, she smoothed her hair back from her face, her arm draped over the pontoon. “We should pull the plane in,” she called.

It had drifted farther out into the lagoon, though it was still in shallow water. Trey swam out to where she stood, her words still drifting through his mind. Had she seduced him or had it been the other way around? Though it shouldn’t be important, it was. “Can you fix it?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she said. “If it’s the battery, there’s no way to charge it. It might be something electrical.”

Trey wanted to reach out and grab her waist, to pull her into another kiss, to test the limits of her desire for him. Hell, as far as he was concerned, they could stay out here for the week, as long as he had Sophie with him. But he held his impulses in check.

Sophie unhooked a line from beneath the plane and swam to a spot where she could touch the sandy bottom of the lagoon. He grabbed the line and helped her pull. To his surprise, the heavy plane easily glided through the water.

He stood in the waist-deep water as he watched her walk across the beach to a nearby palm, where she tied up the plane. She was magnificent, her naked limbs slender and supple, her skin tanned all over and gleaming in the sun. She was obviously comfortable with nudity, making no attempt to cover up. Or was she deliberately trying to provoke his passion again? He felt himself growing hard and cursed softly.

He’d never been in this situation before. Usually when he had sex with a woman, it had come after a short but amusing chase. Once the flirtations and silly games had been completed, mutual desire led to the bedroom. But this time, there had been no games. The sex had come from a primal need to reassure themselves they were both alive. What was the etiquette in this situation? Was he supposed to act as though nothing had happened?

“Now what?” he asked.

“I’m going to radio for help,” she said. Sophie had waded back into the water and crawled up into the plane, providing him with a lovely view of her backside as she pulled herself up. She was oblivious to her nudity, but he certainly wasn’t. The sight of her was doing all sorts of things to his desire.

Taking the opportunity to hide his reaction, Trey walked back to the beach and retrieved his boxers and khakis. He tugged them on, then sat down in the sand to wait. Though he couldn’t see what she was doing inside the plane, Trey trusted they weren’t in any immediate danger. The weather was good, they had a cooler full of drinks and rescue was only a few hours away.

As he stared out at the lagoon, Trey mentally began to plan his next move. No doubt, they’d be back in Pape‘ete before dinner. He’d insist she accompany him, perhaps in gratitude for saving his life. Or maybe he wouldn’t need an excuse. Maybe she’d be just as anxious as he was to continue what they’d begun on the beach.

Fifteen minutes later, she emerged from the plane, making a shallow dive off the float before she swam to shore. Muttering to herself in French, Sophie grabbed her pareu and wrapped it around her waist, tying it in a knot. “The radio’s not working,” she said. “I’m pretty sure the battery is dead.”

In any other situation, Trey might have been angry. After all, bad fuel, a dead battery and a useless radio didn’t speak well of Madigan Air. But he’d been looking for an excuse to spend more time with Sophie and now he had it.

“What are we going to do?”

“There’s not much we can do. There’s a small dry cell battery in the back of the plane. If there’s any charge left, I may be able to wire the radio to it and we can call for help. But I’m not sure the voltage is compatible.” She shrugged, then forced a smile. “I’m sorry, you must think—”

“No,” Trey said. “I’m happy to be alive. Besides, won’t they come looking for us?”

“Of course. They know where we went and they’ll easily be able to see the plane from the air.” She paused. “But they won’t know to search for us until after sundown. They might send out a plane then or wait until morning. Either way, we’re probably going to be here all night.”

“It’s not so bad,” he said, looking around. “There are worse places to be stuck.” He paused. “And far worse companions to be stuck with.”

She smiled, as if pleased by the compliment. “Of course, I will refund your charter fee. It wouldn’t be proper to—”

Trey reached up and grabbed her arm, pulling her down beside him. “You don’t have to do that,” he murmured, cupping her face in his hands.

She stared at him, wide-eyed, as she waited for him to make the first move this time. Gently, he ran his thumb over her lower lip and kissed her, his mouth lingering over hers as he traced the outline with his tongue. “Let’s just call this a side trip,” he said. “An adventure. We can continue our survey once we get off this island.”

“You may not say that when the rain is pouring down and you’re wet and miserable,” she teased.

He pulled her closer, his hand splayed against the small of her back. Her breasts brushed against his chest and Trey bit back a moan. “I’m a pretty tough guy,” he said. “I think I can handle a little rain.”



SOPHIE SAT WITH HER BACK against the trunk of a coconut palm, a seat cushion providing extra comfort. She’d retrieved an old blanket from the plane and spread it out in the sand and settled in to wait for someone to realize they were missing.

Though she should have been trying to get the radio to work, she’d decided to hold off. If she got it working too soon, they might be rescued before sunset. If she got it working later, she could call in their location and reassure her father that everything was all right. Then, she and Trey would have an entire night together.

Still, if she couldn’t get the radio fixed, her father would be in for a very long night. Sometime after sunset, he’d come to the realization she might have been forced to ditch in the open ocean. Though the plane had floats, landing on open water was always risky. One wrong move, one swell, and they could have rolled end over end and sunk too quickly for anyone to get out. They’d been lucky to be where they were when the problems occurred.

In truth, after what had happened between them on the beach, she had to wonder if maybe this was more wish fulfillment than sheer luck. She’d been determined to find a lover and now she had one, complete with a deserted tropical island. They were probably going to be stuck on Suaneva until at least tomorrow morning. And she had every intention of taking advantage of her good fortune.

When Sophie had thought about finding a man, the individual had been just a vague image in her mind, someone with the physical prowess to satisfy her desire and to make her feel like a woman again. But Trey was much more than that. There was a powerful physical attraction between them, an attraction that wouldn’t be quelled by just one passionate encounter on the beach.

She recalled the conversation she’d had with her father about this trip. He’d wanted her to—what was the word—impress? Perhaps the gods had stepped in and given her the solution to all their problems. She’d get what she wanted and her father would get what he wanted.

Sophie pulled her legs up and rested her chin on her knees, silently observing her fellow castaway. She couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. Once her father realized they were missing, he’d be beside himself with worry. She, on the other hand, would be enjoying a host of carnal pleasures with her sexy passenger.

Trey had decided to raid the tail of the plane for anything that might improve their comfort while they waited and had come away with a wide variety of items he’d arranged on the beach. He was now focused on a canvas tarp and a length of nylon rope, the small toolbox she kept stowed beneath the pilot’s seat open at his feet.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

He squatted down and picked through the toolbox, then pulled out a large pocketknife. “I’m making us a shelter, in case it starts to rain.”

“Give me that knife,” she said, wriggling her fingers.

He walked over to her and placed it in her hand. Sophie reached out for the leg of his khakis and cut the fabric at midthigh. She tore off one leg and then the other. “There. You’ll be more comfortable now.”

“I’m not sure I’ll ever be comfortable with you lying around topless like that,” he said wryly, staring down at her, the soft light outlining his gorgeous body.

Sophie glanced down at her chest. “Americans are far too obsessed with breasts,” she muttered. “It’s too hot for a shirt. You’re not wearing one. Why should I?” Sophie paused. “You know, we could always sit in the plane if it rained.”

“It’s kind of hot and stuffy in there,” he said. “It’s nicer outdoors. And I don’t want to sleep in the plane. It’s too cramped. I need space.”

He hesitated, then looked her way. Considering what they’d done on the beach an hour before, Sophie could attest to that fact. Making love in the plane would be more than uncomfortable. When they did it again, she wanted comfort, not privacy.

Trey straightened, turning in a slow circle, then looked over at her. “Which way is the wind coming from?”

She pointed to the northeast and he grinned. “Thanks.” He took a small length of rope and ran it through the grommet in the tarp, then tied it onto a tree. “When I was fifteen, my parents sent me on an Outward Bound trip. They thought it would make a man of me.”

“What is this? This Outward Bound?” Sophie asked, curious to learn a little more about her lover.

“It’s a program where they drop kids in the middle of the wilderness and they have to learn how to survive by working together. You learn all these skills—how to make a fire and how to build a shelter. How to find drinkable water.”

“These are good things to know,” Sophie said.

“This is the first time I’ve ever needed to use them,” he said ruefully. Trey paused, staring down at the knot he’d tied. “You know, that was the last time I remember ever feeling a sense of accomplishment. I was happy that summer. Happy with myself.”

“So it made a man out of you?”

Silly question, she mused. The answer was right in front of her eyes. In all her life, she’d never met anyone who was more “man” than Trey. He exuded masculine sexuality, from his careless stance to his easy athletic grace, from his boyish smile to his unchecked desire.

He glanced over her shoulder, chuckling softly. “Yeah, in more ways than one. I lost my virginity on that trip. To a red-haired girl from Burlington, Vermont. Her name was Elizabeth and she could portage a canoe all by herself.”

Sophie giggled. “Sounds like the right kind of girl to be stuck in the wilderness with. Tell me more.”

“About the girl?”

“No, about losing your virginity. Was it all you thought it would be?”

He considered her question for a long moment and Sophie was afraid that she’d offended him with her bold inquiry. They’d just shared the most intimate experience between a man and a woman. Why shouldn’t they speak about sex as easily as they’d shared it?

“It was over pretty quickly,” he admitted. “And it was out in the woods. We’d been sent to gather firewood. And neither one of us had had a bath for days. The mosquitos nearly ate us alive. But I liked it.” He nodded. “I really liked it. And I’ve liked it ever since.”

“And did it happen again?”

Trey shook his head. “No, she moved on to an older boy. What about you?”

“I was sixteen,” Sophie said. “I was spending the holidays in Paris with my mother’s family. I met a boy. He was an art student and he was sketching along the Seine. He took me back to his parents’ apartment and we did it. It was pretty much the same as your experience.”

“It’s a wonder we survived,” he said. “And that we managed to get so good at it.”

“So what attracted you to this girl?” Sophie asked, wondering just what kind of women he usually chose to bed.

“She had very large…”

“Breasts?”

“Shoulders,” Trey said. “Like I said, she could haul a canoe down a muddy path for miles. And carry two backpacks at once.”

“So you admire capable women?” Sophie asked. “Some men find them…intimidating.”

“I admire you,” he said. “When the plane was going down, you acted like it was just another day at the office.” He looked over at her. “Just how close were we to dying?”

She smiled. “If I told you all the things that could have gone wrong, you might not want to fly again. We were lucky,” she said.

He tipped his head, a grin quirking at the corners of his mouth. “I guess we were.”

There was more than one meaning to his words, Sophie mused. They were lucky to be alive. But they were also lucky to be stuck alone on this island. Had they met any other place, they might have enjoyed a quick afternoon in bed and then gone their separate ways. But here, they were able to take their time, to test their passion.

Sophie pushed to her feet and strolled over to where he worked, grabbing the edge of the tarp and pulling it tight. She caught him staring, then looked down at her bare breasts. It was obvious that her nudity was causing him a great deal of unease. He was growing hard, his erection bulging out the front of his khakis. Was it just her, or was he always so aroused around women?

She sighed, then tossed her hair back over her shoulders, exposing herself completely. “There,” she said. “Go ahead. You can look. I don’t mind.”

He focused on tying a knot around the trunk of a coconut palm. “I’m not obsessed,” he murmured.

“Mais non! It doesn’t bother me. I just don’t understand this American fascination with naked breasts. There is nothing special here. One, two. Now, if I had three, there might be something to stare at. But, sadly, I only have two. Like every other woman on the planet. And every man, for that matter.”

Trey grabbed the edge of the tarp, covering her hand with his. The moment they made contact, Sophie’s breath caught in her throat. She wanted him to touch her again, to pull her into his arms and run his hands over her naked skin.

Slowly, Sophie stepped closer, until her breasts brushed against his chest. It was a subtle challenge, a dare for him to touch her more intimately. She saw the desire in his eyes and his reaction was unmistakable. Trey drew in a sharp breath and held it.

A heartbeat later, his hand found her shoulder, then slowly drifted down to her breast. “I beg to differ,” Trey said softly, as he rubbed his thumb over her nipple. “Yours aren’t quite as ordinary as you claim. Besides, how can you be upset that men find that part of your body so distracting?”

“I didn’t say I was upset,” Sophie protested, placing her fingertips on his chest. “Just curious. And perhaps a bit amused. Would you rather I put my top back on? So you wouldn’t be distracted?”

He bent close and brushed a kiss across her lips, his hand still cupping her breast. “When you look at a naked male body, you don’t see anything sexual?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“All right, let’s limit our discussion to my male body.” Trey stepped back and held out his arms. “Be honest. Take your time. I’ll wait.”

Rising to his challenge, Sophie stared at him, taking in every detail of his form between his chin and his belly. Her gaze skimmed over his wide shoulders to the well-defined muscles of his abdomen. She reached out and ran her finger along the trail of dark hair that went from his navel to a spot beneath the waistband of his khakis. She’d followed that trail before and knew what was waiting at the end.

Her mind skipped back to their encounter on the beach. It had happened so quickly, she hadn’t taken the time to think. In truth, everything was a bit hazy. But, there were some small details that kept teasing at her memory, tempting her to try it all over again. It had felt good. He had felt good moving inside her.

She returned to the little valley in the center of his chest, following it down to his muscled abdomen. Her eyes focused on a bead of sweat that traced its way through the ridges and contours. Her fingers twitched and she fought the urge to taste it.

Unable to resist, she reached out and ran a lazy finger from his collarbone to his khakis, tracing the trail of hair before stopping where his waistband began. “This,” she murmured. “I like this.”

Sophie pushed up on her toes and gave him a kiss, letting her tongue slip between his lips for just a second. Though she was tempted to pull him back down on the blanket and have her way with him, Sophie fought her need for instant gratification. If he wanted her, he’d have to wait, at least until they found something more than sex to sustain them.

“Are you hungry?” she whispered, her lips still touching his.

“For you? Always.”

“No, for something to eat.” Sophie stepped back. “When we were circling the island, I think I saw some old rainwater tanks over on the other side of the lagoon. I’m going to see what there is. Meanwhile, you can build a fire and then we’ll try to catch some fish.”

“Do we have a fishing pole?”

“There are hooks and line in the bottom of the toolbox.”

“Do we have matches?”

“Yes, but using them wouldn’t be much of an accomplishment for a man so well trained in wilderness survival, would it?”

She found his shirt and slipped into it, then tied the tails at her waist and rolled up the sleeves. Sophie grabbed the plastic water jug he’d pulled from the tail of the plane. Despite having shared an incredibly passionate encounter, they were still virtual strangers. She didn’t know how he took his coffee, whether he preferred showers to a bath, or whether he slept on the left or the right side of the bed. But she was learning what made him hard with desire. And for now, that was enough.

Though he was ready and willing to have her again, Sophie thought it might be a good idea to take things a bit slower. He only had one condom left and they had the whole night ahead of them. She intended to make the next seduction last a lot longer than the first. Their gazes met and it was as if there was a silent understanding there. They would touch each other again, but next time would be much more powerful than the first.

“Maybe I should come with you,” he said, his hands braced on his hips. “I wouldn’t want you to get eaten by alligators.”

Sophie laughed. “There are no alligators on this island.”

“Well, there are probably all kinds of poisonous snakes and spiders.”

“In the water. There are sea snakes.”

“Poisonous?” he asked.

“Yes, but very rare. You have more to fear from the centipedes. They have a nasty bite. And there may be taramea and jellyfish and rori and nohu in the lagoon. And sea urchins. Although, if we find any sea urchins, we should eat them. They’re a delicacy.”

“I’ll come and protect you from sea urchins then.”

“I’ll be fine,” she insisted. “Why don’t you finish the shelter and get a fire started. We’ll probably need to boil any water we want to drink. The old fronds from the coconut palms burn really well. And you can probably find some driftwood if you walk over to the ocean side of the atoll.”

“Are you sure you’ll be all right?” he asked.

“If I get in trouble, I’ll scream and you can rescue me.” Sophie pointed to the other side of the lagoon. “Over there. I’m just going to follow the beach around. You’ll be able to see me most of the way.”

He crossed over to her, wrapped his arms around her waist and brought his mouth down on hers. It was a sudden, almost possessive, gesture, followed by a long, deep kiss. “Don’t get lost,” he murmured when he finally drew back.

“I—I won’t,” Sophie stuttered, stunned by the fierce tone of his words.

She started off down the beach, her knees wobbling from the power of his kiss. Sophie glanced over her shoulder to find him staring at her, his head cocked to the side as he watched.

In truth, she needed to put a bit of distance between them. Given time alone, she’d be able to reexamine all the details of what had happened—the way his lips felt on her breasts, the scent of his skin, the sound of his moans as he buried himself deep inside her. Even now, she got goose bumps at the thought of the two of them, naked, limbs entwined.





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