Shipwrecked Read online

  Searching around for his pants, Scott finally found them and hopped into them. He growled his words, “If he's a bridesmaid, my Uncle Ben's an ostrich. He can come to the wedding but he's not allowed anywhere near the honeymoon. I'm going to start another room on the house for the kids.” With that, he stomped away. His loose blonde hair, cover-model-length, flowed behind him. How had she ever thought blondes not sexy? He was sexy as hell. Sexier than any man she'd ever known.

  To her pet, she murmured shaking her finger up at him. “He's got a point. That was the world's lousiest moment to interrupt us. Promise me you'll never do that again."

  Friday notched his chin a couple of inches, blew her a raspberry, and leaped off her shoulder. He ambled away on his knuckles, his tail lifted regally.

  "That had better be a promise!” she called after him as she started to dress. On second thought, she dropped her clothes in a pile on the beach and walked into the surf naked to cool down.

  Chapter Three

  "I think the best decision I ever made was to marry you,” Scott said, his hands rubbing Katie's arms, his lips nuzzling her neck.

  Katie's temperature shot sky high and it took everything she possessed to retain a shred of logic. Snuggling closer to him, she hoped with all her heart that marrying Scott would be a wise move. But what choice did she have? He was a fire in her blood that she couldn't resist and they could be alone on this island a very long time.

  Cupping her chin in his hand, Scott tilted her face to his so that their gazes meshed. The intensity of his passion smouldering in his eyes stole her breath.

  His thumb stroked her jaw, hypnotizing her, as his lips quirked into a lopsided grin. “Do you know how irresistible you are?” His lips nuzzled hers, teasing and tempting.

  "Um.” His touch intoxicated her, making her arch her neck to give his lips free reign. “Do you know how irresistible you are, sir?"

  Scott pulled a necklace made of shells out of his pocket and fastened it around her neck. His fingers trailed liquid fire across her flesh. “I love you, Katydids. Will you wear this for me?"

  A number of questions tripped through her mind as she fingered her new necklace, the ridges and bumps on the brightly coloured shells smoothing out to a polished coral. “It's absolutely exquisite.” Pressing herself against him, feeling the hard ridge of his desire that kindled a like fire in her belly, she kissed him hard on the lips. “We'll have a good life here, won't we?” She let her gaze roam the island; the lush palm trees, exotic flowers, and azure ocean. People dreamed of finding paradise. Some searched for it their entire life. They had it right here.

  Gazing deeply into her eyes, he asked, his voice gentle, “The best."

  She looked around him at their beloved tropical island, agreeing.

  Shaking his head, he never took his gaze from hers. He stroked her hair.

  "Do you think we'll really be married?” It was hard to think straight with his hands and lips caressing her, with his body pressed close to her. She was still in awe over the turn of events.

  "As married as Adam and Eve ever were. Who's to argue with God's wisdom?” His petting became bolder, his hands moving to the sides of her breasts, inflaming her.

  One more thing troubled her, but it was difficult to keep her mind focused long enough to voice what troubled her heart. She pulled back from him to study his reaction to her next words. “I need to ask this one last time and I need complete honesty. Are you only saying this because you don't think we'll be rescued? Because you don't think you'll ever see your fiancée again?"

  He pulled her slowly, inexorably close, until his arms wrapped around her bare waist. He plundered her lips, kissing her breathless, his body trembling against hers, his hands caressing her reverently. Finally, he drew back a few inches, his voice ragged and raw. “Do I kiss you as if I don't love you? Do I hold you as if I'm not completely, deeply in love with you? I'm crazy, madly in love with you, Kate."

  "I just have to be sure.” She traced his chiselled lips with her fingers as her own lips turned up in a tremulous smile. Sam had really cut her deep, leaving a raw wound that kept her from trusting any man. She wanted to trust Scott, almost trusted him, but a small niggling doubt remained. “I couldn't stand it if I were to have you, just to lose you, too."

  Scott lifted her hand to his lips. “You won't be able to lose me even if you want to. I'll be yours and you'll be mine.” Dumping her off his lap, he stretched to his full height, towering over her. He took her hand gently and pulled her up beside him. “Let's plan this wedding."

  Laughter bubbled up inside her. She looked around them at the sand, surf, and jungle. “What's to plan? There's no one to invite, no one to feed, and not even a priest.” Eagerness to make him hers, and to be possessed by him, she tugged at his hands, shooting him a seductive look, she smiled a come-hither smile. “We can say our vows in the waves."

  Scott held back, shaking his head, a twinkle in his eyes.” Not so fast, O anxious one..."

  "You mean ‘O horny one'?” She felt utterly delicious and decadent.

  He deposited a brief kiss on her lips and treated her to a stern glare. “There'll be plenty of time for that. Let's make this memorable so we can tell our grandchildren."

  "Grandchildren,” she murmured, wondering if their descendants would grow up on this desert island. Inhaling deeply, she squeezed his hand. Waves lapped at her ankles. “How will we deliver our babies here?"

  "I've never seen you worry so. We'll deliver our babies like people have delivered babies from the dawn of time. I'm a pretty handy guy in case you hadn't noticed. I think I can manage delivering our babies.” He hugged her close so that his heart pounded against hers.

  She snuggled closer, warm fuzzies pillowing her heart as he talked about their babies. Her head fit perfectly upon his shoulder as she envisioned lots of blonde babies swinging through the jungle and swimming in the surf.

  "Do you honestly think we could have a platonic relationship if we're marooned here even a year? Five years?” He covered her stomach with his palm, blazing new fire in her belly. “Besides, you could be carrying my child already. Nor do I think I can stand one more day of not making mad, passionate love to you. We might as well be realistic and plan ahead. Do you really believe the castaways on Gilligan's Island abstained all those years? I bet the Professor was getting it on with Mary Ann and Ginger."

  She play punched his shoulder and then let her fingers play in his chest hair and kissed his masculine nipple. “Dirty old man. You constantly amaze me, Scott Vanderhorne.” Heat rushed into her cheeks as she tapped his chin. “You're not at all like any rich man I've never met before. Most would be wailing and moaning about our situation, yet you're thriving here."

  "What's to complain about paradise? Or nymphs like you?” He bent his head and drank so deeply of her lips she was ready to start the honeymoon before they said their vows.

  "Nothing.” All her fears melted away. It would be so much worse to stop their lives and wait to be rescued and then have rescue never come, than to push and take what love and joy they could grasp. “Let's have our ceremony at dusk tonight. In the cove.” Then the moon, sun and stars could witness their vows. “That gives us all day to prepare."

  "Prepare what?” Merriment danced in his eyes as a chuckle rumbled in his chest.

  "Bridal stuff.” Drawing her brows together, she ticked off her list on her fingers. “I have to gather my bouquet. Make my dress. Prepare a wedding feast. Make a ring for you.” She glanced at the sun calculating it was nigh noonday. “I've got to run if I'm going to be ready in time."

  "I thought we'd take off all our clothes and say our vows in the surf."

  Heat suffused her cheeks at his scandalous suggestion. After a quick peck on his cheek, she dashed away, making a beeline for the azalea bushes that had caught her eye earlier that week.

  A monkey chattered away overheard as it swung from branch to branch then showed off hanging by his tail in front of her face.


  "Friday!” She clapped her hands together, and beamed at her furry little friend. “You made it! Come here you little squirt."

  The animal grabbed a vine and held it out to her, his big eyes hopeful.

  Shaking her head, she laughed. “I can't swing around the forest with you today, boy.” She held out her arm to him and clucked. “I'm marrying Tarzan tonight.” She gave the little fellow a dreamy grin. “You know. Big, hairless—well, not so hairless.” She tried to bite back a grin, remembering his furry chest and gorgeous sun kissed hair that rippled almost to his firm, powerful buttocks. “Well, compared to you, anyway."

  Friday hopped onto her arm and climbed to her shoulder. He plucked two pomegranates off a nearby bush and handed her one.

  "Thank you, Sir.” She took the preferred fruit and sank her teeth into it. “Um. Let's take some home for the wedding feast."

  They filled her basket halfway, leaving room for more treasures. She'd plant the pits in her orchard, right next to the banana trees she'd planted the week prior.

  Humming an upbeat version of the wedding march, she swung her basket with glee. Friday tried to sing along with her, fracturing the melody, but she didn't mind a bit. She enjoyed his company immensely.

  They chanced upon a delicate white vining flower that she didn't know the name of and she was enraptured. “How lovely. They're perfect.” Snapping off a long piece of the vine, she wrapped it around her arm. “I can make a veil with this."

  Friday grabbed a tropical bloom and tucked it behind her ear, babbling loudly.

  "I can make leis with these. You're such a clever guy. What would I ever do without you?” She hugged the primate and gave him a big, sloppy kiss.

  Being the macho guy he was, Friday objected loudly to such a feminine display of affection and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

  * * * *

  The waterfall crashed against the rocks nearby, telling her she was almost home. She was starting to know her jungle neighbourhood and not getting as lost as she did after they were first marooned. Could she live here happily ever after with Scott? Could they raise a family in such primitive conditions.

  That brought up another question that made her frown. Did she even miss civilization? Was it necessary to own a shiny new motorcycle or watch television or to have a computer to be happy? Did she need all the appliances and accoutrements that commercials professed made modern life easier? They didn't wear many clothes and didn't need many changes living here. The little refrigerator that Scott had rigged fulfilled their daily needs. They picked their food fresh—unspoiled by cancer-causing insecticides and chemicals. They went to bed at sundown and rose at sunup and didn't miss a thing.

  Other than medical care in case of injury, she didn't miss the old grind. She would be ecstatic if she and Scott had the world to themselves forever, just as if they were Adam and Eve.

  Friday leapt off her shoulder when she squatted on the ground beneath their house, and helped her unload her basket, chattering away.

  "I know you're a boy, but you're my best friend on this island next to Tarzan, so I really need you to stand up with me. I wasn't kidding. Maybe you can give me away, too, since Dad can't be here.” A twinge of sadness penetrated her heart. As distant as she'd been with her father, she still loved him and didn't want to live without seeing him ever again. Swallowing a lump the size of a pineapple, she did her best to push such unwelcome thoughts to the back of her mind. It wasn't as if they'd asked to be stranded here, as if she ignored her father purposefully.

  "You will be my man Friday today, even though it's Tuesday—I think.” She wasn't sure her calendar was accurate, uncertain if she'd forgotten to mark a day off or not. “You'll be my ring bearer and my bridesmaid, and you'll give me away.” The bridge of her nose pinched as she studied her finger. “Ring. Where do I get a wedding ring for Scott? They don't exactly have a Zales outlet here. What can I make it of that won't rot or fall apart?” She pondered the thought, staring at Friday. He was a marvellous listener.

  Picking up the vine, she wrapped it around her finger and held it up for Friday's inspection, the sun glinting in her eyes. It was scratchy and didn't fit well. “I don't think so. Do you?"

  Friday shook his head with exaggerated movements and scratched his head.

  "I know. I'm stumped, too.” She tugged his tail playfully. “So what would work? I don't have time to whittle a ring from wood. At least not and arrange my bouquet and make two wedding leis and prepare our wedding dinner.” Maybe she could do that for their first anniversary or his birthday. She frowned. She didn't even know when Scott's birthday was or how old he was and she was marrying him this evening. In the normal course of events, she'd at least be able to check the marriage licence. She put it on her list of things to ask him. He could be a completely opposite zodiac sign from her own Virgo. He could be born in the year of the rabbit and not be compatible with her year of the rat. He could be five years younger than her. She had no clue. But that was nonsense anyway, she admonished herself. Still, most engaged couples knew those things about each other.

  Her face brightened. “How about a bamboo ring? It's already round and hollow and wouldn't take long to fashion."

  Friday made a face and scampered to the shore, digging in the sand.

  "This really isn't the time to build a sandcastle. I need your help.” She tried to keep the pout from her voice, reminding herself that Friday really couldn't understand her and wouldn't know what a ring was anyway. She busied her hands stringing leis on the vines she stripped of their foliage as she puzzled out her dilemma.

  The monkey jumped up and down shrieking, and clambered to her on his knuckles in his own peculiar gait. Stopping square in front of her, he held out his fist.

  "What is it boy? You got something for me?” She prayed it wasn't a fish head or something equally gross. Holding out her hand palm up, she said, “Let me see."

  Friday dropped a gorgeous coral shell into her palm. Part was polished smooth as fine silver wear and part had tiny coral imbedded in it. She'd never seen anything so exquisite.

  "That's beautiful. Thank you. Maybe I can make a necklace of it later."

  At her words, Friday snatched the shell back and whooped, startling her. He grabbed for her hand.

  "What's the matter, Fri?” She'd never seen him so agitated and looked over her shoulder to make sure there wasn't an uninvited guest like a tiger or a pirate sneaking up behind her. The coast was clear, nary a predator in site. So what was bothering her friend?

  When she tried to pull her hand back, he grabbed it again firmly, and pulled at her fourth finger. Then he tried to push the shell onto it.

  Enlightenment dawned and she stared at the shell, letting her imagination loose. “I could make this into Scott's wedding band?” She took it from Friday again, not forgetting to pat his head and scratch behind his ears as he loved, and held it up to the light, squinting. It was already circular and had the beginnings of a finger cut out. “Do you think it's sturdy enough for me to hollow out?” She ran her fingertips over the shell, gauging its strength. It felt solid enough. “How do I hollow it out? I don't have much time."

  The animal handed her a long skinny fossilized rock and stuck its end through the hole in the shell and ground at the edges. Bits of shell sheared off without hurting the whole.

  "You're a genius! What would I ever do without you?” She took the shell and rock when Friday held it out to her and went to work.

  Before she knew it, it was late afternoon and almost everything was ready. It was time to prepare the feast although she was so jittery she didn't think she could eat a bite. Before the night was out, she'd be Mrs. Scott Vanderhorne.

  * * * *

  Something smelled delicious. Katie sure could cook. He'd eaten better since he'd been marooned with her—both health-wise and flavour-wise—than his family's chef at home had ever fed him. What that woman could do with tropical fruits and marinade over fresh fish and wild game was truly amazing. A m
ango here, a pineapple there, bananas, and pomegranates and she created a feast fit for a king. His stomach grumbled at the whiff of her concoction. She'd outdone herself.

  In approximately an hour, when the sun poised on the horizon, sinking low in the South Pacific sky, he'd take her hand and recite the vows he'd been rehearsing all day. He chafed at the wait, eager to brand her his. He couldn't wait to make her his and he'd never wanted anything or anyone more in his life. He harboured no doubts that their vows would be as official and binding as if they stood before a judge and their families. They would stand before the most important people when saying their vows—God and each other. Who else really mattered? Did a piece of paper and an official seal of some unknown magistrate make a marriage more real? He didn't make these vows lightly and he wouldn't say them at all unless he meant it with all his heart and soul. Katie had captured both. She was his match and his mate.

  Clutching her ring in his hand, a ring he'd been working on all week, he went in search of his bride. He'd spent hours carving intricate detail into the balsa wood, even engraving the inside with their names and wedding date. It hadn't been easy but it had been worth the extra effort. He hoped she would like it and cherish it always.

  He found her bent over the cooking pit, humming the wedding march, her chimp at her side. Her hips swayed gently under whooshing grass skirts. Orchids adorned her slim ankle, her neck and her hair. She wore so many leis around her neck they almost hid her bikini top. The orchids perfumed her flesh and he couldn't wait to taste her. He'd never seen a more beautiful, intoxicating woman. She was light and life and joy.

  Unable to resist her allure another second, he walked up behind her, his footsteps silent in the sand, and put his finger to his lips when Friday turned around to peer at him unblinkingly. Lifting her heavy fall of hair off her neck, Scott nuzzled the tender flesh just below her ear. She twisted in his arms, opening herself up to him, slipping her arms around his waist, lifting and parting her lips. They were rouged with the juice of some berry that tantalized him, or maybe it wasn't intentional and just the residue of a piece of succulent fruit she'd bitten into.