“Five star,” he said.

“Are you sure we should eat these oysters?” she asked.

He sat down opposite her. “I don’t know. Do you think they might make us do something crazy later?” Trey asked.

Sophie giggled. “I hope so.” She plopped one on top of a cracker and gobbled it down. “What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done in your life?”

This was not a game Trey wanted to be playing. He’d done far too many crazy-and stupid-things to recount. Things he was ashamed of now. “I don’t know.”

“Have you ever had sex in a public place?” Sophie asked.

“Oh, we’re talking about crazy sex? I thought you meant like losing a hundred thousand on one spin at roulette in Monte Carlo or wrecking a vintage Ferrari sports car the day after I bought it or punching out a policeman in Paris.”

Sophie gasped. “You did all that?”

Trey had almost forgotten that Sophie knew nothing of his life before she’d met him. “No,” he lied. “I was just using those as examples.”

She ate another oyster. “So. Tell me.”

Hell, he didn’t want to lie to her. But his sexual escapades were a lot worse than anything else he’d ever done. “Well, there was this one time. With this woman I barely knew. We met on an airplane and-well, you know the rest.”

“I do?”

He nodded. “You were there.”

“That was the craziest sex you ever had?”

“Yeah,” Trey said. “That was pretty crazy. How about you?”

She drew a deep breath. “I’ve always wanted to do something crazy. I guess attacking you on the beach was the high point for me.”

It was a decent concession, he mused. Trey certainly didn’t want to hear about her past lovers. And he didn’t want to talk about his. They’d start fresh, without a romantic or sexual past for either one of them.

“Well, maybe we’ll have to work on that,” he said. “We could always aim for something higher, don’t you think?”

She gave him a sexy smile, then popped another oyster in her mouth. “It’s good,” Sophie said, nodding at the meal.

“You know, this is the first time I’ve ever cooked for a woman. Until now my culinary skills stopped at ordering takeout and reading French menus.”

“So what else are you good at?” she asked, her brow arching up. “I mean, besides…you know…”

“I do?”

“Sex,” she said. “You’re good at sex. But I’m sure you already know that.”

“So are you,” he said. He considered her question for a long moment, trying to come up with an answer. Most men his age had at least one thing they could do well. But all the things he could list didn’t really make a whole lot of difference in the world. He could drive a race car really fast, he could ski better than anyone he knew. He was a daredevil when it came to motorcycles. He was good at blackjack and could speak six different languages. He could seduce a stranger in less than an hour. And he knew how to spend money.

“I’m good at taking care of you,” he said. “And that’s all that really matters.” He picked a cracker out of the can and held it out to her.

“I guess life really isn’t so bad on this island,” she said.

“After we get back to civilization, I’m going to take you out for a really good meal. The best restaurant in Pape‘ete. We’ll drink champagne and order the most expensive entree on the-”

“You don’t have to say that,” Sophie interrupted.

“Say what?”

“That we’ll go out. I mean, I appreciate the gesture, but I think it would be best if we just went our separate ways once this is over.”

“Why would you say that?” Trey asked, startled by her indifferent attitude. At the least, they ought to leave the island as friends.

Sophie shrugged. “Because it’s silly to pretend. We’re attracted to each other. We’re the only two people on this island. Believe me, if there were another woman here, you’d be attracted to her, don’t you think?”

“Not if she looked like my aunt Marjorie,” he teased.

She smiled. “All right, any reasonably attractive women under the age of forty.”

“Forty-five,” Trey said. “I’ve always liked older women.”

“See. It’s just a matter of availability.”

“So you don’t think there’s something…special to this attraction?”

She shrugged. “No. Because it won’t last. My mother always said it’s the chase that fascinates men. Once a man has caught a woman, he tires quickly and moves on to another. Like my father. Once he was certain of my mother’s love, he moved on to someone else. She always said that was her biggest mistake. She let him know how much she loved him.”

“I’m not your father,” Trey said.

Sophie scooped up some beans with a cracker, then put them into her mouth. “No,” she said, shaking her head as she chewed. “But you are a man.”

Trey stared at her for a long moment, before reaching out and smoothing his hand over her cheek. Was she really that cynical? “And you’re a very special woman. There’s something very exotic about your eyes.” He ran his finger along her collarbone and let it drift down to a spot between her breasts. “And about the way your skin feels.” He leaned forward and kissed her, taking his time to tease a response out of her. “And you taste better than any woman I’ve ever kissed.”

“I think the oysters are working,” she said, a tiny smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Either that, or you’re too charming for your own good.”

He should have put aside his doubts right then and pulled her into his arms. But instead, her words brought his past crashing back to the present. How many times had he heard that? Peter Shelton the Third was all charm and no substance. “Do you really think this is just a game?” Trey asked, his mood darkening suddenly. “That I’m just interested in the chase?”

“I-I don’t know what to think. I think maybe you’re used to getting what you want from women.”

“And you don’t get what you want from men?”

Sophie shook her head. “Not usually.” She picked another oyster out of the tin and held it out to him. Trey shook his head. “At least, not until now.”

The rest of the meal passed in more subdued conversation, Trey’s mind occupied by the admissions spoken between them. He may be good at sex and even better at seduction. But it was the other stuff he needed now. He wished he were better at the whole romance thing.

For the first time in his life, he wasn’t quite sure what to do. How could he get Sophie to look at him as more than just the man who satisfied her sexual needs? A man only interested in the chase?

SOPHIE GUZZLED THE LAST of the bottled water, hoping that it would ease the tiny hangover she’d gotten from the wine. Trey had found an old coffee tin in the cottage and had used it to collect rainwater to refill their bottles before the night set in.

He truly seemed to be enjoying their exercise in survival. He’d made a hammock, started a fire, cooked dinner and was now replenishing their supply of drinking water. Sophie had to admit she could have been stuck on this island with a far less useful guy than Trey Shelton.

And far less sexy, as well. Dressed only in his ragged shorts, Trey might have looked a bit disreputable to some. But Sophie couldn’t take her eyes off him. His skin had been burnished by a day of Polynesian sun filtered through the cloud cover, and the thin sheen of sweat on his torso only highlighted the muscles of his shoulders and back.

Sophie drew a ragged breath as she let her gaze drop to his butt. It wasn’t difficult to imagine what would happen between them that night. What else was there to do in the dark but continue the seduction that had begun the moment the plane landed?

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