The Trouble With Paradise

“Cadence, listen to me,” Denny said. “It’s going to be hot, sweaty, hard work-”

“We’re going.” This from Brandy, in a voice of steel.

New society, new rules, Dorie thought. Or maybe no rules at all… Fact was, they were all operating on sheer nerves at this point. And no matter how much she wanted to think otherwise, she was alone.

Once again her gaze collided with Christian’s.

He looked back, his expression shuttered, but she could see past that, to the man beneath. No matter that they’d knocked their good parts together, no matter that they’d decided not to knock those parts together again, she could trust him.

Which meant she wasn’t entirely alone after all.

Andy used a large stick to beat the branches away from his face as they walked. Ahead of him, Ethan did the same as he led them higher and higher up the rocky volcanic precipice.

Behind them both, Dorie gasped for breath and tried to keep up.

Andy slowed, and smiled at her. “You okay?”

“Terrific.”

Denny, Brandy, and Cadence had gone in the opposite direction, with Denny determined to find the source of the engine he thought he’d heard.

Christian remained back at camp, manning the fire and watching for boats. He hadn’t wanted to, but Denny had insisted. Dorie had wanted to stay, too, but if she had, the condoms in her purse would be calling her name about now, so she’d gotten off her tush, telling herself the exercise would be good for her. “I hope the other group is okay. I’m worried about them.”

“I’m worried about us,” Andy said.

“Why?”

“Because we’re on a deserted island. Because rescue hasn’t come. Because one of us is dead.”

Her heart clutched. “We don’t know that.”

“Do you really think he hung on this long?”

“Maybe he was rescued.”

Andy’s face said what he thought of those chances.

Dorie swiped a scary-looking bug away. “What exactly are we looking for?”

“A lux hotel, darlin’. With all the amenities of a real vacation.”

Dorie huffed out a laugh, then tripped over a fallen tree, managing to catch herself before she fell. “I’ve got to get better shoes.”

Ahead of them, Ethan kept walking, the distance between him and his two charges getting bigger and bigger. “Go at your own pace,” he called back.

Her own pace would be on her butt on the beach, which she could have actually pulled off now that she was splinter-free. Thinking about how Christian had removed it by flashlight brought a surge of renewed embarrassment.

Andy looked at her and stopped. “You’re awfully red. Let’s sit a moment.”

“No, I’m good.” Pulling away, she walked backward, smiling at him, thankful he couldn’t read her thoughts-still on Christian, and how he’d kissed the spot. “Let’s just keep-”

Andy’s worry turned to alarm. “Dorie-”

“Going-”

“Dorie, watch out-”

Too late.

She tripped over another fallen log and tumbled backward over the huge stump.

NINETEEN

She was on an island with a cabana boy leaning over her, the sun so bright she couldn’t see his face as he offered her a cool drink-

“Dorie, wake up!”

No, thanks. The cabana boy shifted out of the sun, and turned into… Christian.

Her heart warmed. Not just her good parts, but her heart. Huh.

“Dorie, damn it, open your eyes.”

She did, becoming aware of two things. One, she had a sharp pain in her head, and two, the face floating in front of her was blurry, the voice foggy because her ears were still ringing, but she smiled anyway because this made three times Christian had rescued her.

“Dorie? Darlin’, say something.”

Wait. No French accent. No low, husky voice that gave her warm fuzzies, but Andy, and his adamantly hunky smile and sweet eyes. Only… she blinked to make sure… his eyes weren’t looking so sweet at the moment, but… uh-oh. “Grandma,” she said weakly, “what big eyes you have.”

He smiled tightly. The better to see you with, my dear.

She swallowed hard. “And what big teeth you have.”

The better to eat you with, my dear.

With a gasp, she sat straight up, then cried out at the dagger of pain between her ears.

“Jesus, Dorie, are you all right?” His hands settled on her shoulders.

To hold her down and eat her with. Those big fangs would help, too. With a little scream, she scrambled backward, cringing at the quick movement.

“Darlin’, don’t. Don’t move.”

“What did you say?” she asked hoarsely.

“Uh… don’t move?”

“Before that. The eating me part.”

The look on Andy’s face defied description. “Nothing about eating you.”

When she blinked again, he looked the same as always. Too cute for words, his eyes normal, teeth normal.

“You cracked your head,” he said, clearly worried. “Let me-”

Unable to dispel the nightmare, she batted his hands away.

Stymied, he sat back on his heels. “Dorie? Do you know who I am?”

“Depends on whose teeth you’ve got at the moment.”

“Uh-oh,” he said.

“My head.” She clasped it between her hands. “I think it’s going to fall off.” She touched her neck, to make sure it wasn’t severed.

It wasn’t.

Unwilling to keep sitting on the ground, she stood, then cringed. “Oh, dear,” she whispered, her head spinning. Worse, so was her stomach, prompting her to go very, very still.

“Oh, crap.” Andy leapt up, and out of her way, though she didn’t actually throw up.

“I’m okay. I’m just…” She sat back down abruptly as her world continued to spin on its axis. “Going to sit right here for a minute.”

“Good idea. Ethan!” Andy yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Ethan, where the hell are you? Dorie’s hurt!”

So once again she’d shown her graceful side. Nice. Just like any minute now, she was going to show her ill side. She held her breath, willing to sell her soul to the devil rather than throw up in front of Andy.

“Dorie? Talk to me.”

“Watch your shoes.”