Deserted Island, Dreamy Ex! Read online

  Good, time to liven things up a little. Grinning, he thrust his hands into his pockets and leaned against the sink.

  ‘Fancy dessert?’

  ‘What’s on offer?’

  He watched her eyes widen as she focused on his naughty smile as he pushed off the sink, crossed the small room to squat beside her chair.

  ‘What do you want?’

  Her fingers clung to the edge of her chair as he willed her to release them and reach out to his forearm resting near her bare thigh.

  Static electricity crackled between them as he shifted a fraction, brushed her thigh, her slight jump nothing on the kick-start to his libido.

  He held his breath, wishing she’d take a chance, wanting her to make the first move. After all he’d done in the past, all they’d been through, he couldn’t push her; it wouldn’t be fair.

  ‘Got any more of that Swiss chocolate?’

  ‘Sure.’

  He stood and turned away, disappointed. Then again, what did he expect? For her to forget how he’d treated her and come back for seconds?

  ‘Back in a sec.’

  ‘Okay.’

  There was something in her voice…a hint of mischief…and as he paused at the door, shot a quick glance over his shoulder and caught her perving on his butt again, he knew it was time to re-evaluate the situation.

  Maybe Kristi wasn’t so indifferent to the idea of making this night special?

  If that was the case, he had high plans for Miss Wilde and the fine chocolate when he returned. High plans indeed.

  Jared thumped around his hut, grabbed his backpack and dumped the contents on the table. He’d clean up the mess later. Something he’d have to do with his life if he continued down this suicidal path.

  Spying the chocolate, he left it sitting amidst the mess, jammed his hand through his hair and started pacing.

  What the hell was he doing?

  He’d played this game with Kristi before, pretending their relationship was oh-so-casual, deliberately ignoring the signs she cared too much.

  That twinkle in her eye as he’d left her cabin proved how much she cared, for he knew she’d never consider getting physical unless she was emotionally invested.

  She’d told him that first time around and he’d gone ahead and taken advantage of the situation, a young guy crazy for a beautiful woman. He’d kidded himself back then, ignored the signs she cared more than he did, content to coast along, have fun.

  But he wasn’t that young guy any more. He was wiser, more mature, knew how much it must’ve cost her to finally let down her guard and give him that monkey-business look.

  So where did that leave his plan to make their last night together on the island special?

  Basically, he couldn’t keep his hands off her.

  She was injured, for goodness’ sake! Yet he’d taken every opportunity to touch her, on the pretext of helping her.

  Probing her ankle? Yep.

  Scooping her into his arms to move her from the bed to the chair? Yep.

  Skimming her shapely calf while settling her ankle on a cushion? Done that too.

  Sick.

  Now he had to march back over there and do it all again, helping her from the chair to the bed, tucking her in, making sure she was comfortable…

  Two words stuck in his head, on repeat.

  The bed…the bed…the bed…

  He wanted to be in that bed with her so badly he ached.

  But they hadn’t talked yet, hadn’t established boundaries about their new relationship and maybe now wasn’t the time despite the urge to march back there and lay everything out. He wanted her fighting fit, in full possession of her faculties, painkiller free, so that she couldn’t blame any misconceptions on a fogged head.

  Listen to yourself. Making excuses for the relationship before it’s even begun.

  ‘It’s what I do.’

  Admit it. Kristi’s different. You care. And that scares the hell out of you.

  ‘Damn straight. I don’t want to hurt her.’

  Is she the only one you’re scared of hurting? You’re really screwed up since the injury and the fiasco with your parents.

  ‘Shut up.’

  Tired of arguing with himself, he snatched several Swiss chocolate bars and headed back to Kristi’s hut.

  He had no idea what to do about their situation but he’d been under pressure before, had always come out on top.

  He’d figure it out. If not, he’d fall back on the old fail-safe that had got him through every convoluted part of his life.

  Wing it.

  ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

  Kristi, propped on her good leg, sent Jared a sheepish smile as he burst through the door. ‘Testing out my ankle.’

  ‘Testing my patience, more like it.’

  He dumped the chocolate on the table and scooped her into his arms before she could utter a word of protest.

  Not that she would have. She was enjoying this whole invalid thing far too much for comfort.

  ‘You really don’t have to carry me.’

  As he smiled down at her, his face mere inches from hers, she tried to think of every sane reason why he shouldn’t, for right this very moment she could think of nowhere else she’d rather be than in his arms.

  ‘Would you rather I slung you over my shoulder like a sack of spuds?’

  ‘Brute.’

  ‘Hey, would a brute do this?’

  He lowered her gently to the bed, placed a cushion under her ankle, arranged the pillows behind her, her heart careening out of control and slamming against her chest wall with him in such close proximity.

  She knew what he’d do next.

  Hand her the chocolate. Pass her the latest romantic suspense novel she’d brought. And leave.

  Not while she still had a breath in her body. Staying aloof, maintaining a cool front, keeping her distance, had slowly but surely driven her insane.

  She’d wanted closure when she first arrived here? She’d partially got her wish, with him apologising and acknowledging he cared. But as long as her body craved him, confusing her mind with mixed messages, she’d never have full closure, not the way she wanted.

  So while he’d gone in search of chocolate, she’d searched her heart, her mind, and come to a decision. Only one way to get the closure she needed to move on with her life since he’d re-entered it.

  Get him out of her system once and for all.

  As he straightened she captured his hand. ‘You’re not a brute, far from it.’

  His gaze clashed with hers, searching, wary, and she tugged so hard he had no option but to sit on the bed beside her.

  ‘Krissie, don’t go building me up into someone I’m not.’

  ‘I’m not a naïve young woman any more. I know what I’m doing.’

  His reserved expression softened. ‘Do you? Really?’

  This was it.

  The point of no return.

  Every tension-filled minute over the last week, every loaded smile, every flirtatious quip, had been leading to this and her body tingled in anticipation.

  Releasing his hand, her fingertips trailed up his arm, across his shoulder, dipping between his collarbones, before resting on his lips, tracing the contours while she moistened her own with her tongue.

  Sliding her hand around the back of his neck, she pulled him slowly towards her.

  ‘I know exactly what I’m doing,’ she murmured, a second before she kissed him.

  His resistance was fleeting, the merest rigidity in his shoulders before his arms wrapped around her and he kissed her with as much passion, as much desperation as she reciprocated, a frantic, explosive kiss filled with hunger and longing and soul-deep need.

  His lips left hers all too soon, trailing across to her ear, where he whispered, ‘What about your ankle?’

  ‘I won’t need my ankle, unless you’ve turned kinky over the last eight years.’

  His joyous laughter burst over her like a warm spring
shower and she laughed along with him, their intimacy having more to do with the past they’d shared than shedding their clothes, a long, leisurely, exploratory process that left her trembling by the time they were naked.

  ‘You’re so beautiful.’

  His hand hovered over her hip as he stared at her, his eyes gleaming with desire before he splayed his hand flat against her belly and she gasped at the heat from his palm branding her his.

  ‘And you still have the power to drive me wild.’

  As his hand skated across her skin, exploring, teasing, tantalising, she lost herself in the exquisite rapture, in the pleasure, in the absolute certainty that despite wanting closure, she’d just opened her heart to Jared Malone again.

  Twitter.com/Stranded_Jared

  What have I done?

  Twitter.com/Stranded_Kristi

  So much for closure. Start of a beautiful new…day.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Stranded Survival Tip #11

  Sharing the last piece of beef jerky is only polite.

  KRISTI’S BLOG, DAY 7

  The last day on the island passed in a blur of interviews, cameras and fake smiles, when all I wanted to do was smile for real. In fact, from the moment I woke to find Jared’s note, I couldn’t keep the grin off my face. Then Elliott and the media descended and I didn’t have a minute to myself. Worse, I didn’t have a chance to talk to Jared in private. That’s where the fake smiles came in. We acted very chummy, sparring with each other on camera, smiles firmly fixed in place. But what was he thinking? Really thinking behind that smile? I intend to find out. Today.

  Oh, and hoping my soldiering-on-under-duress routine was enough to win the hundred grand!

  JARED’S BLOG, DAY 7

  Up and at ’em early this morning, in time for the media circus. Did the usual meet-and-greet stuff. Great publicity for ‘Activate’. Looking forward to seeing what’s been happening at the centre in my absence.

  ‘YOUR blog entries were short and sweet.’

  Jared drummed his fingers against the table, reached for his latte, pushed it away again, his eyes firmly fixed on the door.

  ‘I’m a bloke. What did you expect?’

  Elliott’s sly grin alerted him to a veer in topic he wouldn’t like.

  ‘Kristi’s were interesting.’

  ‘Yeah?’

  He grabbed at the latte this time, gulped the lot, scorching his tongue in the process. Good, as he had no intention of discussing Kristi or what happened on Lorikeet Island with his mate.

  ‘Now that you’re back, maybe you should read them.’

  ‘Too busy.’

  He slammed the glass on the table, glanced at his watch, wishing he could beg off this post-island-wrap-up. He didn’t want the first time he saw Kristi to be here, like this.

  She deserved more. She deserved an explanation.

  Or maybe that should be a clarification. For while they’d done the deed last night they hadn’t had a chance to talk, really talk, about where things stood.

  And that worried him. He didn’t want her getting any crazy ideas.

  He wasn’t a complete fool. He’d seen the starry-eyed look in her eyes when they’d faced the media, had felt her subtle adoration like a hit over the back of the head with a tennis racket.

  While his pulse pounded at the memory of their hot encounter, and the driving need to do it all again, he needed to set boundaries.

  ‘Relax, she’ll be here.’

  His gaze snapped from the door to Elliot as he deliberately sat back.

  ‘Of course she will. She’s a professional.’

  ‘Is that all she is?’

  Sending Elliott a glare he’d used to intimidate opponents—considering his record it had worked most of the time—he folded his arms.

  ‘Kristi’s a trouper. She handled all those bogus challenges you set up for us, she acted accordingly in front of the cameras to boost your ratings—’

  ‘What about when the cameras were off?’

  Off camera had been the time he’d enjoyed the most, when she’d slipped off her bubbly PR face and relaxed into the lively, carefree girl he’d known.

  He’d dated extensively over the years, had squired movie stars and supermodels and sporting legends to glittering affairs from Monte Carlo to New York, but none of those women could capture his imagination as much as Kristi Wilde in all her natural, vivacious glory.

  Elliott held up his hand. ‘On second thoughts, don’t answer that. I can see your response written all over your face.’

  Hoping like crazy his mate couldn’t see half of what he was thinking, he deliberately relaxed his shoulders, uncrossed his arms.

  ‘And what’s that?’

  ‘Tennis’s notorious bachelor boy has fallen.’

  ‘Bull.’

  Shoving his glasses up his nose, Elliott leaned across the table, peered into Jared’s face as if scrutinising a particularly challenging Sudoku puzzle.

  ‘Nope. No bull. You get this funny look in your eyes whenever I mention her, then there’s that goofy grin you had on the island this morning, and you’re never tight-lipped about any of your other conquests—’

  ‘She’s not a conquest!’

  He slammed his palms on the table, rattling the cutlery, sloshing water from glasses, annoyed as hell at Elliott’s knowing smirk.

  ‘Well, well, well, I think your reaction settles that particular question.’

  ‘Smart ass.’

  Chuckling, Elliott flipped open his laptop. ‘Smart? Yeah. An ass? Not so much.’

  Elliott was right. He was the ass. And far from smart if he overreacted at the mere thought of Kristi being anything more to him than a casual girlfriend.

  It had all sounded so simple when he’d mentally rehearsed how to handle this relationship. So why was he getting so hot and bothered now?

  He’d survived being raised by two narcissists who made boxing championships look like toddlers sparring.

  He’d survived being dumped at the tennis club from an early age.

  He’d survived his career falling apart when he’d gone down in that twisted, tangled heap on Centre Court at Flushing Meadow.

  Surely he could handle one fiery, opinionated woman, no matter how tempting?

  ‘Don’t look now but your friend has arrived.’

  Elliott’s not so subtle emphasis on friend earned him another death glare as Jared snuck a quick peek at the door.

  So much for quick. The instant Kristi strutted into Icebergs, all legs in a tight black mini dress and killer shoes, a coy smile playing about the mouth he remembered in minute, erotic detail, he couldn’t tear his gaze away.

  She zeroed in on him, her smile widening as she raised a hand in greeting and something deep down, in a place he didn’t acknowledge these days let alone indulge, twanged. Hard.

  ‘She’s great.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  He couldn’t look away, mesmerised by the sway of her hips as she wound her way between the tables, hypnotised by the mischievous shimmer in her blue eyes, as if she had a secret and he was in on it.

  Clenching his hands under the table, he inhaled, trying to stay cool when all he wanted to do was leap from his chair, vault the tables and sweep her into his arms.

  ‘You should see the footage. Priceless.’

  ‘Yeah?’

  Jared couldn’t care less about the documentary footage. All he cared about this very minute was having Kristi sit next to him, her seductive spicy scent enveloping him, reminding him of how close they’d got last night, how her scent had clung to him all morning despite an early shower to clear his head.

  ‘Hey, boys. Haven’t we done this before?’

  She slid into a chair, dumped her monstrous handbag and signalled a waiter, ordering a soy chai latte while beaming at them.

  He loved that about her. Her energy, her pizzazz, her zest for life.

  His use of the L word pinged in his brain a second too late and before he could process it she cl
apped her hands together.

  ‘So, Mr Producer, how did we do? And more importantly, who won?’

  Elliott tapped his laptop screen. ‘Pure gold. I’m almost done editing and splicing the footage, should have it ready for you to view tomorrow.’

  She batted her eyelashes and something twisted inside as he registered Elliott’s goofy expression. Not that he could blame the guy. He was only human and what red-blooded male wouldn’t be affected by Kristi Wilde at her flirtatious best?

  ‘As for the winner, I’ve tallied your individual site hits.’

  Elliott paused for drama and Jared rolled his eyes.

  Taking hold of Kristi’s hand, Elliott bowed over it while Jared clubbed the green-eyed monster making him want to box his friend’s ears.

  ‘I’m pleased to announce that you, my dear, are the winner.’

  Kristi’s loud whoop had several nearby patrons craning their heads, frowns easing into patient smiles as they registered her infectious excitement.

  ‘Bloody brilliant!’ She pumped her fist in the air, the action drawing his attention to the black dress pulling deliciously across her breasts. ‘Thanks so much.’

  Elliott grinned like a proud benefactor. ‘My pleasure.’

  ‘Congratulations.’

  She turned her triumphant smile on him and the impact slugged him all the way to his toes.

  With a toss of her hair, she licked the tip of her finger and chalked one up in the air. ‘Never in doubt.’

  He chuckled, leaned towards her and whispered loudly behind his hand, ‘I could’ve whipped your butt if I’d wanted.’

  Holding her hand in his face, she said, ‘Talk to this.’

  Elliott joined in their laughter at the antics while Jared desperately tried to subdue the wave of longing swamping him.

  Last night had achieved what he’d feared most. Opened his heart to Kristi all over again. Left him wanting more. Much more than what they’d shared last time.