the small hill they’d dubbed Haystack Mountain could be seen clearly.
Three tries and Sydney finally had a respectable fire going. She fed the flames dry wood, and glanced toward the beach, trying to catch a glimpse of Chase in the waves.
While she watched the fire and waited, she thought of how drastically her life had changed in a few days. Now, with her existence pared down to survival, simple pleasures like the warmth of a fire or the feel of a man’s rough stubble against her cheek seemed more precious than diamonds.
Finally, Chase returned, carrying not only two large fish, but what looked like a battered backpack.
“I went poking through more of the wreckage.” He placed the backpack on the ground. “I found this. It must have belonged to one of the pilots.”
She noticed he avoided saying their names and realized that must be his way of dealing with his grief. So instead of commenting, she focused on the fish.
“How long will that take to cook?”
He smiled. “I thought you said you knew how.”
Unembarrassed, she shrugged. “I learned how to cook gourmet meals using an oven. If cooking over an open fire is similar, then I’m good to go.”
“Let me show you.” Using the same rig he’d made to cook the rabbits, he spread the fish over the fire.
They watched in companionable silence while their breakfast cooked. Every so often, he turned the spit.
Finally, he gave her a satisfied look. “I think it’s done.”
Removing the fish from the fire, he split each in half, using a triangular rock as a cutting implement. Then he transferred her portion to a piece of bark and handed it to her.
“You’re pretty handy with nature,” she commented.
“I trained at a pretty elite bodyguard school in Carringtonshire.” Taking a bite of his fish, he pointed to hers. “Now eat.”
Aching again, Sydney complied. “It’s good.”
“You sound surprised.” He’d wolfed down his portion before she’d even finished chewing.
“I guess I am.” Chewing slowly, she savored the flavor. “Even without the benefit of seasonings or spices, this is wonderful. It’s flaky and moist.” Though she’d eaten at gourmet restaurants in both their countries, she thought she’d never tasted anything so delicious.
“It’s fresh.”
It took her a moment to realize he was teasing her. She eyed him, his rugged face relaxed, and replied in kind. “It’d be even better if I didn’t have to pick out the bones.”
Chase grinned. “Tough,” he told her. “There are some things you have to do on your own.”
Finishing her portion, she licked her fingers to get every bit of meat. When she looked up again, Chase’s lighthearted expression had vanished. His look burned her all the way to her core.
“Chase—”
“No.” He jumped to his feet and took her bark from her, dumping the fish bones in the fire. Then, without a backward look, he strode off into the forest.
After a moment of hesitation, she ran after him. “Where are you going?”
He cast a dark look over his shoulder. “In lieu of a cold shower, I’m going to take a bath in the pond.”
She practically had to jog to keep up with him. “I’d kill for some soap.”
Hefting the backpack, he kept going. “I found some.”
“Soap?” She felt like Eve, being lured with a different kind of apple. “Is there enough for both of us?”
“I’d prefer to bathe alone, thank you.” He gave her another hard look. “I’ll bring back the soap so you can have a turn.”
She stopped, letting him continue on alone. He was right. Thoughts of him emerging naked from the pond with rivulets of water caressing his muscular body was way more temptation than she was up to resisting.
And resist she must. Because, unless their rescuers made an appearance, they’d spend another night sleeping side by side in the small shelter. She had to stop thinking of him that way before they both did something they’d later regret.
On the way back to the camp, she took a detour and found a patch of early strawberries. Going back for the tin cups Chase had found earlier, she returned to fill them with strawberries.
Bare-chested, hair damp from his swim, Chase returned and handed her the soap. “I’ll see you later.”
Resolutely, she kept her gaze on his face. “Where are you going?”
He seemed just as determined to avoid looking below her chin. “I thought I’d climb Haystack Mountain and see if I could get a better visual on this island.”
Though it was on the tip of her tongue to ask to go, she didn’t. Instead, she nodded and took off for the pond and her own bath. She didn’t turn around to see if he watched her leave.
That night, he brought them a small wild pig. She’d gathered more wood, spreading it in the sun to dry before hauling a short stack inside the shelter in case of more rain. While he dressed the meat, she built up the fire. Though she hadn’t seen him all day, she kept her distance while he cooked their dinner on another stick-made spit.
The scent of roasting pork made her mouth water and finally, she went closer. “That smells wonderful.”
He nodded. “I re-explored the wreckage hoping to find a working cell phone or radio or something. Instead, I found the remains of the galley.” He held up two forks. “I brought back these and those plastic food trays to use as plates.”
Feeling absurdly tongue-tied, she looked away.
“I also found an underground route to some caves.” He brushed back his hair from his face.
“Caves?”
“This is an interesting island. Below the pond is a lot of volcanic rock. There were a couple of large caves, accessible only by water. When I get more time, I’ll explore them.” He fed another stick to the fire. “What’d you do while I was gone?”
“I picked a bunch of berries and gathered firewood.” She sighed. “I also took a nap. I’ve been really tired today.”
“Isn’t that normal?” Turning the spit while he watched her, his expression was unreadable.
“For pregnant women, yes.”
“I climbed Haystack and got a better view of this place.” He gestured toward the beach. “It’s not a huge island, and I didn’t see any signs of habitation. I did find a sandy beach on the other side, rather than this rocky one we’re near. The wildlife is abundant—even with me crashing around in broad daylight I saw a lot.” His teeth flashed white. “Not a bad place
