Island Heat

Island Heat By Jill Myles Copyright © 2011 by Jill Myles This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Chapter One

Fifteen minutes before the plane crashed, I removed my boss‘s hand off of my bare knee. Again. ―Diana,‖ the man next to me said, sighing my name in drunken happiness. ―Thass a lovely name.‖ A hiccup punctuated the thought. ―Who were you named after? The prinshess?‖ ―Nope,‖ I said, edging back against my seat and hoping he‘d get the hint when I plucked his hand off my knee and put it back on his. ―Wonder Woman. So what made you decide to move to Bermuda, Mr. Wingarde?‖ I decided a topic change might be for the best. It seemed I was the only one that thought so. ―You‘re a lovely woman, Diana,‖ Mr. Wingarde slurred, leaning over me and sloshing some of his martini on my blouse (and probably on purpose). ―What say we kick these chairs back and join the mile high club?‖ Gross. I gave him an uneasy smile and glanced over at the stewardess nearby. At least she was ignoring us. Given that this was Mr. Wingarde‘s private jet, I had no doubt that she‘d seen this kind of thing before. ―Gosh, Mr. Wingarde,‖ I said, faking cheerful ignorance. ―We‘ve just got so much work to do. Look at all these wonderful houses I‘ve selected for you to review.‖ I shoved the print-outs under his nose and pointed at the first one. ―See? This one‘s a lovely 5 bedroom, 3 bath on the beach. It‘s got a sun-room and central air and is nicely isolated from the rest of the neighborhood. I think you‘d really

like it...‖ And I’d like the commission on the sale, I wanted to say, but kept silent about that aspect. No sense in reminding the man why I was here. Just the thought of the commission I‘d make on the sale of a several-million dollar beach bungalow in Bermuda was enough to make me salivate. It was the one and only reason I‘d gotten onto the plane with creepy, overly-forward Mr. Wingate. The man was twice my age, married, rich as all-get-out, and hadn‘t managed to keep his hands to himself for the entire three weeks that I‘d known him. Offering to accompany him on the trip was a mistake, I told myself again when he slid his hand back onto my knee and shouted for another martini from the stewardess. I‘d guessed what he‘d had in mind the moment he suggested I accompany him to go and check out houses in Bermuda, but the professional realtor in me thought I could keep him at bay. A teeny, tiny, sinister part of me thought I might be able to talk him into buying a bigger house if he thought I was cute. So I blushed at his awkward comments and continued to wear short skirts around the man, fully knowing what I was encouraging. I hadn‘t planned on his wife canceling out on us two hours before the plane left the airport. I certainly hadn‘t planned on Mr. Wingate practically pulling me into his lap as soon as we boarded the plane, nor the fact that he had gotten rip-roaring drunk as soon as he‘d realized I had no intention of letting him get anywhere. This is a lesson, I told myself as I slapped his hand away. The stewardess leaned over the two of us and shot me a sympathetic look. A lesson that money is NOT everything, and that sometimes I needed to back away from the commission, and learn to be happy with the success I‘ve had so far.

―Thanks, darlin‘,‖ Mr. Wingate slurred, accepting the drink from the stewardess and then promptly spilling half of it on the lovely printouts I‘d forced on him. He tossed the rest of it down, then smiled at me. ―Now, about that private party we were gonna have in the beach-front condo.‖ I shook my head, scooting back in my chair and trying not to cringe as he leaned over me again. ―You know I won‘t do that, Mr. Wingarde. I have a boyfriend.‖ (Okay, so I‘d broken up with my last boyfriend over two months ago, but I still thought about him. Sometimes. Once in a blue moon.) ―So?‖ He almost shouted the word in my ear. ―I‘ve got a wife. Don‘t mean nuthin‘.‖ Not very helpful, that. I was about to protest when the plane took a sudden, alarming dip, and the stewardess fell on us. Mr. Wingate slid across me, his martini flying in my face and his hands landing flat on my breasts. Judging from his shocked reaction, it wasn‘t planned. I‘d barely hung onto my seat myself—it was only the fact that the other two people had managed to pin me in that kept me in place. ―What was that?‖ The stewardess climbed unsteadily back to her feet, worry wrinkling her brow. ―I‘m not sure. Let me check with the captain and see what‘s going on.‖ She hurried to the far end of the small plane and shut the door to the cockpit behind her. It left me alone with Mr. Wingate. I gave him an uncertain smile and tried to straighten the real estate printouts that had scattered all over our end of the cabin. ―I‘m sure it‘s nothing,‖ I said, feeling the need to break the uncomfortable silence. As if to prove me wrong, the plane gave a sharp lurch again, teetering to the side and

making me dizzy. The lights in the cabin flickered off, and the emergency lights came on. Next to me, Mr. Wingate groaned, leaned over, and threw up at his feet (and dangerously close to mine). ―Tell them to make it stop,‖ he moaned between heaves. ―I‘ll do that,‖ I said, all too glad for the reprieve. I jumped to my feet and made my way through the lurching airplane, holding onto the other empty seats for support. Up ahead, the door to the cockpit was slightly cracked, and I could hear arguing from within. ―What do you mean, you can‘t get a hold of anyone on the radio?‖ The frightened screech came from the stewardess. Alarmed, I knocked on the door and pushed it open. ―I‘m sorry to interrupt, but Mr. Wingate is sick—― My voice died at the sight of the instrument panels. Every single one was lit up, the needles spinning out of control. The lights in the cabin flickered on and off, and the pilot continued to jab a button that must have been the radio, due to all the static it was giving off. In the large windows of the cockpit, I saw the ocean far below us, approaching at a speed that I figured wasn‘t normal. ―What‘s wrong?‖ It was a stupid question to ask, of course, but I couldn‘t help myself. ―The power just went out.‖ The plane gave another crazy lurch, and the steering column began to spark. The pilot backed away. ―The controls are shorted out. I can‘t understand it. One moment they‘re just fine, and the next...‖ He reached for the fire extinguisher. ―It‘s the Bermuda Triangle,‖ whispered the stewardess next to me, her eyes glued on the windows. ―We‘ll be lost at sea, just like all the others.‖ ―Bermuda Triangle?‖ I scoffed, unwilling to take such a silly answer. ―That‘s ridiculous. Don‘t tell me you believe in that superstition?‖

I looked over at the pilot, waiting for him to confirm what I‘d just said. He avoided making eye contact, busy spraying down the instrument panel with the fire extinguisher. ―Well?‖ I demanded, trying not to sound frightened. The pilot looked over at me, his face pale. ―The instrument panel‘s done for,‖ he said. ―The best thing we can do is hope for a smooth landing in the water, and hope we‘re close to a nearby island. If we see land, we can send up a flare.‖ Real panic was beginning to set in. ―How far are we from land?‖ He shook his head. ―Hard to say. The compass and radar were two of the first things to go out.‖ ―You mean, you don‘t know where we‘re at?‖ Lord, I was going to start screaming in a minute, and I wasn‘t going to be able to stop once I started. ―We‘re lost somewhere in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle,‖ the stewardess said again, and began to sob. She wasn‘t doing much for my nerves. I tried to ignore how jittery she was making me, and leaned over to peer out the cockpit windows. I didn‘t believe in the Bermuda Triangle. Not one bit. The blue of the ocean really was rushing up rather fast, I noticed, and my heart fluttered inside my throat. We were going to die out here in the middle of the ocean in a plane crash. And if the crash didn’t kill us, the sharks would, I thought, my mind offering forth every grisly scene from Jaws I could think of. ―What do we do?‖ The broken voice was mine. I leaned up against a nearby locker, eyes wide. I‘d never anticipated this. ―Buckle up?‖ It seemed like an inane suggestion, but I needed to do something. Anything.

I felt like a fool. I‘d been blinded by money, and now I was going to die. Tears pricked my eyes, and I had to blink rapidly. Damn. It all felt like such a colossal waste. The stewardess shoved me aside, and I managed to catch myself moments before plunging head first into the dripping control panel. The plane tilted crazily for a moment, and we all held our breath, clinging to the seats and staring at each other. ―No time to wait,‖ the stewardess said. She forced open the locker I‘d been leaning against and pulled a heavy pack from the top. ―Here, we‘ll take the parachutes and maybe we can parachute to the water safely before the plane hits the surface of the ocean.‖ She tossed the pilot the backpack, and he began to buckle it on himself with shaking hands. ―Parachute?‖ I said weakly, staring out the window. We were lurching down fast. There were no more clouds, no more sky, just endless blue below us. I thought I saw a smudge of green and beige off to the side, but the plane tilted wildly again, and I found myself clinging to the empty co-pilot‘s seat, nothing but blue in the windows once again. ―It‘s worth a try,‖ the stewardess shouted, clinging to the locker door. ―The plane‘s going to break apart the moment it hits the water.‖ She pulled another pack out with her free hand, using the other to brace herself in the sloping cockpit. ―Can you catch this?‖ She wasn‘t close enough to hand it to me. I held out one hand and yelled back at her. ―Throw it to me.‖ She lifted her arm to throw the pack across the short distance, but the door behind her opened and Mr. Wingarde stumbled in, reeking of vomit and martinis. ―What‘s goin—― He smacked the stewardess‘s arm at the precise moment that she began her throw, and instead of tossing the heavy pack in a low, underhand motion towards my arm, it sailed through the short distance and conked me square on the head.

The world went black.

Chapter Two

My first conscious thought was that my backside was on fire. The world was quiet around me, no sounds of plane-in-distress, no screaming, no Mr. Wingarde puking on my feet. Nothing but the sounds of the ocean in the distance, and the warble of a bird or two. Beneath my body, I could feel shifting grit, and the gentle breeze as it toyed with my hair. My eyes slid open, and I stared at the too-bright world around me. Dark strands of my hair covered my eyes, and I shoved them out of the way with a sand-covered hand. I was on a beach. Somewhere. Alone. Face-down. I sat up, wincing at the feeling when I flipped over, and twisted to look at the backs of my legs. They were bright red—no wonder it‘d felt like I was on fire. Judging by the flaming-red color, I‘d been face down on the sand for quite some time. Something puffy had been placed around my neck, and I removed the bright orange life-jacket. I guess when I‘d gone under, they‘d given up on the parachute and had stuck a lifevest to me instead. At least they‘d tried. I couldn‘t really complain—after all, I was still alive and in one piece. I squinted up at the sun. The blue sky above was clear as the sea, unhindered by clouds or planes of any sort. If we‘d wrecked, we‘d wrecked some time ago. I couldn‘t even see remnants of a smoky trail in the sky. A quick glance down the beach showed it

to be as empty as I‘d expected, with only a few small, dark lumps washed up on the shore in the distance to break up the monotony of endless sand. My body screamed in protest when I stood. My shoes were gone, and my pretty linen skirt was a wrinkled, shrunken mess clinging to my thighs. My silky, sleeveless blouse still had martini stains on it, reminding me that I should find the others. ―Hello?‖ I called. No answer. ―Is anybody there? Hello?‖ Nothing but echoing silence. I started down the beach, not really sure of what else to do. The strip of land was peacefully idyllic, and I wondered if I‘d been washed up on someone‘s private island. The realtor in me went through the mental list of estates that were for sale in the outlying islands around Bermuda, trying to see if I could recall any private islands, private anything for sale. I couldn‘t think of a thing except how thirsty I was. I walked for maybe a mile or so down the beach before I ran into the first sign that I wasn‘t going crazy—my suitcase, waterlogged and washed up on the edge of the water. Excited, I grasped the now puffy leather handle and tugged it out of the crashing waves. It took a few minutes to pry open the zipper, but it eventually gave and I picked through the contents of my suitcase. A bloated paperback was the first thing I encountered. With a sigh, I tossed it aside. The same thing with my hair-dryer, and my bag of toiletries. There was my curling iron, a few pairs of ruined high heels, a silk business suit that would never look quite right again, pajamas, and a few bikinis. I really hadn‘t packed well for being stranded. The sight of my ruined possessions made my eyes water, and it wasn‘t long before I

was blubbering like a baby, feeling sorry for myself as I clutched my ruined shoes to my chest. My stomach growled as I cried, and it only made me sob even harder. What was I going to eat? My travel hairspray? My silk suit? I sniffed and wiped my eyes. No amount of tears was going to make someone appear to rescue me—heck, I‘d even settle for Mr. Wingarde and his grabby hands right about now. I shoved my stuff back into my suitcase and stared down at it. If my suitcase had washed up, it stood to reason that maybe some other things would show up too. Things like my purse—which had some Tic-Tacs and a cellphone—or maybe a parachute, or someone that had actually been on the plane. I took out my blue bikini and changed out of my ruined clothing. Putting on a fresh change of clothes felt better. The soggy linen wasn‘t sticking to my sunburned thighs any longer, so that was a plus. I crammed the old clothes in the suitcase and jerked the handle, dragging the heavy thing down the beach with me. I didn‘t like the thought of leaving it behind, even if it was useless to me. The beach seemed to stretch on endlessly, and still I saw no one as I walked. My tongue and lips felt swollen from the salty air. At some point, the beach changed slightly, the sand turning grittier and thicker, and I saw rocky shoals up ahead and the remnants of the plane on the shore. Uneasy, I resisted the urge to run for it and forced myself to walk slowly. There was a panicky feeling in my gut that told me I wouldn‘t like what I saw. The panicky feeling turned out to be right. Before I‘d even made it to the plane, about a half-mile away, I uncovered the bloated remains of the captain. Or at least, part of the captain. It looked like his lower-half. The upper part of his

torso was gone entirely. Fighting the urge to throw up, I unpacked some of my ruined clothes and covered his body. The captain was the only sign of life—such as it was—around the wreckage. I found some of the seats from the plane itself, and tons of curled, burnt equipment, but nothing else. The entire beach smelled of blood and scorched metal. Inside the remains of the cockpit, I found the source of the smell—the other half of the captain, bloody and pungent, baking under the heat of the broken window. The other cockpit window was intact, but the pilot‘s side had been busted open and was covered in blood, and that was how his legs had...traveled. I had to quickly exit, sliding the door shut behind me. Whatever had happened after I‘d passed out, it hadn‘t been pretty. I said a quick prayer for the man and hoped his death had been quick. There was no sign of the stewardess or Mr. Wingarde. Maybe they‘d survived too, and had left the beach. After searching through the wreckage, however, I did find the remains of the beverage cart and bags of pretzels, and nearly swooned with happiness. I spent the next several minutes cramming food into my dry mouth in an effort to stop the angry grumbling of my stomach. Each broken pretzel tasted like absolute heaven, and the plastic bottles of water I scrounged from the drink cart were even better than that. Once I‘d drank and eaten my fill, and my stomach was comfortably bloated, I carefully stored the rest of the drinks and food in my suitcase. I counted them up as I did so—I had maybe enough to last me another day or two, no more than that. Scary. I‘d be out of food in less than two days. The thought of that made my appetite go away very quickly.

My suitcase packed, the wreckage ransacked, and the sun going down, I wasn‘t quite sure what to do with myself. I could keep eating my pretzels and drink the rest of the water and soda that I‘d found, but what would I do after that? I eyed the noisy edge of the jungle, wondering just how big the island was, and just how far the trees extended. Maybe there were fruit in the trees, or coconuts. What else grew on an island? I decided I‘d stick by the aircraft for now. Anyone looking for our plane would surely see it on the beach, and I wanted to make sure that I was around when they came looking for survivors. I didn‘t want to miss anything because I was traipsing through the jungle in search of something to eat. Surely I could hold out for a few days on pretzels and Diet Coke. But then what? Shivering, I huddled under the flight jacket and watched the moon rise. I was thankful to be alive, no mistake...but I wasn‘t sure what to do now. Over time, the island grew noisier. The change was slow to build, but it seemed that the darker it grew, the louder the quiet beach became. A cacophony of noises reached my ears—the chitter of birds, the sounds of the bushes rustling, and low, strange bellows echoing in the distance that I couldn‘t make out. Cattle? Oxen? On an island? Uneasy, I rubbed my arms and moved a bit further up atop the jet. That was when I saw the tiny lizards. I‘d almost missed them, so small and just about the same color as the beach. About the same size and shape as chickens, they ran about the beach in a small pack, cheeping and raising their heads, examining the wreckage of the airplane. Charmed despite my circumstances, I smiled for the first time that day. They were so

cute. I snapped my fingers, trying to get their attention. ―Here, kitty kitty.‖ Sure, it wasn‘t a cat, but the way it cocked it‘s head so inquisitively made the phrase spring to mind. ―Do you like pretzels?‖ I snapped my fingers a few more times, and one looked up at me, cocking its inquisitive head. It peeped at me, then wandered away. They all seemed to be concentrating on the far end of the wreckage, and I slid out to the edge of the wing to see what was going on, my view hidden by a rocky outcropping. What I saw chilled me to my core. The tiny, cute lizards were crawling over the dead captain‘s body, ripping at what was left and devouring it. They swarmed over it like rats. Revolted, I got to my feet. I couldn‘t let it happen. It didn‘t matter that the man was dead and his other half was splattered across the cockpit. He didn‘t deserve to be eaten, nor could I sit to watch. ―Shoo!‖ I screamed at the top of my lungs. ―Go away!‖ It didn‘t work; neither did waving my hands frantically in the air. The things ignored me like I wasn‘t there, maddened by the smell of carrion. It was like watching a miniature pack of sharks go to work. I had to do something. I hopped down from the wing and stormed across the sands, taking the jacket off my shoulders and shaking it like a matador cape. ―Get out of here,‖ I bellowed. ―Shoo! Get!‖ The little lizards couldn‘t be pried away until I smacked them with the jacket, and I spent a lot of time shaking it in their faces and kicking them away, all the while careful to watch my step so as not to step on the half-eaten legs of the pilot. The tiny lizards snapped at me and gave a flurry of protesting chirps, but it was like trying to chase away the tide. I‘d shoo away a handful, and they‘d run back around to the other side and

congregate there, until I chased them away again. Frustrated, I dropped the jacket and shook my head. ―What am I going to do now? I can‘t let you eat him.‖ One of the vile little creatures ran over my foot, racing past me. Irritated, I shifted in the sand, scowling at the long score his claws had left on my already raw skin. The little bastard had nearly ripped my foot open running away... Running...away? Puzzled, I watched as the little lizards scattered down the beach, disappearing against the sand and melting into the shadows as if they‘d never been here. ―Huh,‖ I said to myself, planting my hands on my hips. ―That‘s weird.‖ After all, I hadn‘t scared them one bit. I wondered what it would take to frighten those creatures enough to scurry away... The moment the thought crossed my mind, the hackles on the back of my neck stood. Thump…thump… Thump thump. I turned, slowly. An enormous, toothy lizard on its hind legs stood about a hundred feet down the beach, sniffing at the sand and flicking its tail like an angry cat. The head was grossly oversized, the front legs shrunken and pulled against the front chest, but the claws on the feet were enough to make me feel faint as the creature continued down the beach, heading in my direction. Thump…thump… Thump thump. I could feel the ground quake under my feet with every thump that his feet made in

the sand. Every heavy thump was a footfall. A dinosaur. On the beach. A big, fucking, Tyrannosaurus Rex on the damn beach. I‘d lost my mind.

Chapter Three

I screamed. It was the wrong thing to do, of course. The creature turned towards me, beady eyes gleaming, and he swayed on his feet, nostrils sniffing the air. Thump, thump. His feet crashed on the ground with each movement. Thump. Thump. He moved closer, and I took a step backward, nearly tripping over the bloody half of the pilot. Thump, thump. The tail swished as the creature lowered his head and began to move forward again, sniffing the air. I stepped over the body and retreated a few more steps, trying to determine if the T-Rex was coming to check out the pilot‘s remains like the others, or if it was hunting me. I stepped to the side. His eyes followed me, and the dinosaur moved forward a few more steps, trying to be stealthy, like a cat hunting its prey. Thump thump thump thump. Shiiiiiit. I was his prey. I turned and ran. The staccato beats that shook the ground behind me told me that it had decided to chase me. Thump thump thumpthumpthumpthump. My hands clawed for the airplane door and I slipped inside moments before the creature‘s jaws snapped. The plane had landed on its side when it had crashed, and as a result, everything in the cabin was tilted at a ninety-degree angle. I landed on something loose—a seat belt?—and fell, face first, into the cabin. My chin banged against

something hard and metal and square, and my head reeled. I picked myself up, breathing hard. Something hot and wet spattered on my leg, and I got to my knees, crouching and wondering what it was. I looked up at the door, moonlight silhouetting the large, alien jaws that hovered over the door itself, drool dripping down and landing on me. As I watched, a long, disgusting tongue slithered out of the mouth and licked the edges of the doorframe, testing it. I cringed against one of the seats. He couldn‘t get to me. Maybe if I didn‘t move, he‘d go away. No luck; I heard it snuffling about the door, testing the metal and licking to determine how to get its prey out of the hole it had hidden itself in. It was trying to puzzle out the situation, figure out how to flush me out. The T-Rex crunched down against the metal of the door, and when it didn‘t peel back, I heard it bellow in outrage and shake its head like a dog would with a chew-toy. The plane rocked and I stumbled backward, losing my footing. Encouraged, the Tyrannosaur grabbed the edge of the door with its teeth again and began to shake once more, the entire wreckage trembling. The remnant of the broken plane I hid in wasn‘t very long, and the far end had broken off at some point. If he figured out that tipping the plane a bit more would mean I would fall out the other end, I was a goner. The plane shook again, and when I fell back against the chairs, I looked up at the bloody cockpit. It was the only place left for me to go. I climbed up, ignoring the fact that my hands slid on sticky, slimy things, and pried my body upward, clinging to broken seat-belts and

doors and chairs still rooted to the floor. I managed to pry myself into the small cabin, ignoring the dead half of the pilot, and curled up in a small nook, tucking my legs close to me and staring up at the spattered windows, waiting for the sun to rise. Please, I thought. I’m sorry I was so ungrateful for being left alive. I promise I’ll never ask for anything ever again if you make the damn thing go away. The T-Rex shook the plane again, and then gave a snort of frustration. The plane stilled. My heart hammered in my throat, and I wondered if it had gone away for good. I stayed frozen in place. If I kept quiet enough, maybe it would leave. An ear-splitting roar hit my ears, and as I watched, the creature leaned over the front of the aircraft, peering into the broken window and sniffing the glass. I froze, watching as that horrible tongue snaked out again, touching the edges of the broken window and tasted the pilot‘s blood. My heart sank—he‘d never leave now. I shrank back further, realizing that my great idea of hiding in the cockpit had turned out to be even worse. If he noticed that I was here, I was within eating distance. All he‘d have to do is bust through the glass and I‘d be dead. I burrowed against the back of the plane, not caring that it was sticky with gore. I couldn‘t scream anymore — I was too terrified. Something hard and flat poked into my backside and shifted as I did so, and I twisted around it. It felt like a case of some sort. My fingers fumbled with the latches as I brought it to my lap, hoping for something, anything. Success—my searching fingers locked around the flare gun, and I nearly wept with relief. I cocked the damn thing and pointed it with shaking fingers out the broken window. The creature had reared back, no longer licking at the grass, but was staring in,

eyeing the inside of the cabin. Looking for me. I fired. The flare arced into the air like a bolt of sunlight, shining high above in the sky. The dinosaur roared in pain and moved away from the window. I hadn‘t hit it, but maybe I‘d blinded it with the bright light. I clutched the flare gun close to me and stared up at the evening sky, waiting for the return of the monster. Luck was with me. It didn‘t return after all. I kissed the barrel of the flare gun in silent relief, and said a prayer of thanks that the pilot hadn‘t used the gun before I could.

Chapter Four

I drowsed off at some point, because the next thing I knew, I‘d woken up to a patch of sunlight shining directly in my eyes, and the hot, funky smell of the cockpit. I squeezed my eyes open slowly, not daring to move a muscle in case the T-Rex had come back and was looking for me. So far, so good. The cockpit window was damp with condensation on the inside, but nothing else. A few puffy clouds tracked across the clear sky overhead. I stretched my legs, muscles protesting, and slowly crawled out of the cockpit and back into the cabin of the plane. I cracked the door open a hair, terrified of what I might find out there, but the beach was clean of visitors, the sand churned with a myriad of footprints—both mine and those of the dinosaurs. Crawling out of the plane on shaky legs, I wobbled out onto the sand. My suitcase had been demolished, either by the T-Rex or the little chirpy critters, and my half-eaten clothing was strewn across the beach. I found a few bottles of the water here and there, and a pretzel bag or two, but the rest were scattered to the wind or busted open, and my pitiful supply of food was even worse than before. I hid back inside the belly of the plane once that was done, trying to ignore the smell and the heat of the day. The inside of the small plane grew stifling the higher the sun rose in the sky, and the smell overpowering, but I didn‘t get out. Inside the plane was safe. In here, the dinosaurs couldn‘t get me.

Dinosaurs. On an island. ―This is some serious Jurassic Park bullshit,‖ I said aloud, rubbing my sticky arms. I was covered in gore from the night I‘d spent in the cockpit, but I wasn‘t about to leave the plane and head out onto the open beach again. I could stink, for all I cared. The sun rose high in the sky and I drowsed inside the hot, steamy plane cabin. My stomach growled, waking me up from my sleep occasionally, but I didn‘t eat. If a few pretzels were all I had, I needed to make them last. I started to have fever dreams after a while. Maybe it was the heat or the lack of water, but my dreams began to blur together, as I huddled against the broken chairs, empty flare gun clutched in my hand and staring at the door of the plane, watching for the T-Rex to return. My dreams were scattered, full of bizarre things. Most of it slid in and out of my mind as quickly as it appeared, but one image lingered. I dreamed about the most beautiful man. It was odd, really. I dreamed that I looked up at the door of the plane, and a dark silhouette was there, staring down at me. The figure was tall and muscular like a bodybuilder, but lithe like a cat. He slunk into the wreckage like a panther, sniffing the air and descending towards me. His green eyes looked down on me with avid interest, and he leaned in. Cool hands cupped my face, his thumb brushing against my cracked lips in a caress. ―Belleza,‖ he whispered. He stared down at me for a long time, touching my face and hair. The dream faded as I felt him brush something wet and cold across my forehead. I tried to lift a hand to touch the wet streaks, but my limbs felt too heavy. Then I dreamed about the T-Rex again as well, that it was returning to eat me, his

long tongue snaking into the plane to poke me in the forehead. I screamed as the hot, hard point of his tongue bit into my skin. My eyes flew open. I stared at the point of a spear, the crude tip thrust against my forehead and making a dribble of blood leak down my forehead. It prodded me again, like the dinosaur‘s tongue in my dream. ―Goo’ntcha,‖ said the person holding the spear, and I tried to focus my eyes. The man was small, only slightly larger than a ten-year-old child, and dark. He was covered in dirty matted hair all over his body, and he wore nothing over his small, muscular body except a few stripes of colorful paint. A thick, hairy beard covered his face, emphasizing the thick brow. A caveman. ―Why the hell not,‖ I muttered. ―After all, we‘ve already got the dinosaurs.‖ ―Goo’ntcha,‖ the caveman repeated, poking the tip of the spear against my forehead again. ―Goo’ntcha.‖ It stung. ―Ow.‖ I pushed the spear away, irritated. ―Knock it off.‖ That was the wrong thing to do. The little man gave a snarl of rage, and grabbed me by the throat. ―Goo’ntcha cho,‖ he growled at me, his grubby hand closing my throat. I couldn‘t breathe. I clawed at his hand. I didn‘t know what he wanted, but the little creep was strong. And aggressive, I mentally added, clawing at his hand. I nodded in fright, trying to make him understand. He grinned, showing a mouthful of yellow teeth. ―N’gunt.‖ His hand released my throat, and I gasped in relief. ―Whatever, buddy.‖ When he gestured with his spear this time, however, I followed his lead and stood. The little jerk

poked me with the spear until I stumbled my way out of the plane and down on the sand. Outside were six more of the cavemen. They started up an angry, hooting conversation as soon as I emerged from the plane, shaking their spears in my direction. I collapsed in the sand at their feet, my head spinning. The caveman grunted and spoke to the others for a few minutes, poking me with his spear as I huddled in the sand. The others seemed to be upset, and one grabbed my hair and sniffed it, then made a comment. ―Goo’ntcha,‖ the leader said again, gesturing with his spear at me. ―Na meh, Sav dor.‖ He pointed at his forehead. ―Sav dor meh.‖ The one that had found me got angry, and gestured at me. ―Goo’ntcha!‖ I recognized that word and stood up immediately, noticing that his dirty head barely reached my shoulder. He sneered at me, heavy brows wrinkled, and then touched my bare thigh, stroking my skin. ―Skoja geum-meh.‖ His tone changed, and goosebumps rose on my arms at the appraising look he gave me. ―Geum-meh.‖ Oh, eww. This was not good at all. I averted my eyes as I shoved his hand off my skin. He was getting rather ‗happy‘ in a certain uncovered hairy groin area, and I certainly had no desire to see that. He jabbed his spear at my stomach and put his hand on my leg again, possessively. ―Meh. Meh.‖ He gestured at himself, then at me. ―Meh. Bgha meh.‖ Okay, I understood a property claim as well as the next person. He thought since he‘d found me, I belonged to him. Remembering the creepy way he‘d touched my leg, I shuddered. Could things get any worse around here?

He stared at me with beady little eyes. ―Bgha,‖ he said, beating his fist against his muscular, stout, hairy chest. ―Bgha!‖ The way he said the word, it must have been his name. Maybe he was the leader of the small group, because the other little cavemen were backing down to the one‘s claim. I heard them mutter and glare at me, but they backed off, even as Bgha grabbed my hair and sniffed it. ―Meh,‖ he repeated again. ―Sure, meh, whatever,‖ I said, eyeing the point of his spear. He put his hand on my leg again, and I jerked away, crouching low and wrapping my arms around my legs to protect them. ―Quit it.‖ He grunted at me and pointed at the ground, indicating I should stay there. I did so, waiting in place as they ransacked what was left of the plane wreckage. The cavemen exclaimed over the dead body of the pilot, stabbed the uprooted chairs, and generally crawled about, exploring. They gathered up a few things, and when they were ready to go, Bgha came back and began to poke me with his spear again. ―Vaua-to.‖ I stood, shrugging at him. ―I don‘t understand you. I can‘t speak Neanderthal.‖ He jabbed his spear in my back again. ―Vaua-to, jobwei. Jobwei.‖ He touched himself and I flinched, stepping back. Bgha repeated the words and pointed down the beach, and I understood what he was saying. I could stay here and he could get happy with himself (and me) or I could walk down the beach. ―Why, the beach looks absolutely lovely right about now,‖ I said, leaping up and heading down the beach. The cavemen, loaded down with stolen goods from the plane, trotted around me, though Bgha loomed close by, protecting his ‗prize‘.

My mind raced—I‘d gone from one bad situation to another. While I didn‘t want to stay at the wreckage and wait for the big, hungry dino to come back, I didn‘t exactly want to go with the cavemen. There were too many of them to overpower, and they were armed. Being Bgha‘s oversized sex slave sounded absolutely revolting…but my other option was a hungry dinosaur. I was stuck, unless I could get away. I stared at the footsteps that churned the sand, thinking hard, but I found no solution. I kicked one of the footprints in disgust. So much traffic on this one stupid beach—just my luck. Our small party skirted the beach for a mile or so, and then the cavemen ducked into the jungle, leading me for the first time into the interior of the island. It was like entering another world. Thick, ropy ferns covered the jungle floor, tall palm trees and leafy fronds raising high to the canopy above. The trees were enormous, and overhead, birds fluttered and called out. Small rodents scurried under the bushes, and while I didn‘t see any dinosaurs right away, I could tell by the muddy tracks on the trail that they were still around. I swallowed hard, falling behind the cavemen and letting them lead. Surely they wouldn‘t lead me right back to the T-Rex, would they? We walked for a time, and came to a rocky outcropping. Bgha motioned that I should climb, and I put my hands on the rocks, when dizziness swept over me. The world tilted and I fell to my knees, sick and dizzy. Something was wrong with me. My head throbbed and I shook my head at Bgha. ―I can‘t. I need to rest.‖ He muttered something under his breath, and gestured at me. I fell to my hands and knees, shaking my head. ―Can‘t. No. Let me rest.‖ The others glanced at him, and he touched my hair again, then grinned, showing

nasty, crooked teeth caked with grime. ―Bgha meh,‖ he said, his voice a possessive croon, and the hackles on the back of my neck stood. ―Meh.‖ He touched my backside and I stiffened, swatting his hand away. ―No!‖ The caveman raised his hand and slammed it across my face. ―Meh! ‖ My entire head snapped backward, ears ringing. Damn. Bgha was a little guy, but he packed a big wallop. Dazed, I shook my head to clear it, and watched him raise his hand again. I punched him in the balls. He gave a high, keening groan of pain, and bent double. I got to my feet, swaying. ―That‘s what you get, you little bastard. I‘m not your plaything.‖ I kicked him while he was bent over, just to get the point across. The others jabbed me with their spears, their grunting language becoming angry. One reached for me and I turned and ran into the forest. My body felt like it was about to give out, and I was terrified that the cavemen were going to catch me and throw me down to the ground and rape me. Raped by cavemen. Not exactly a Lifetime movie of the week. I wanted to laugh—or cry—but instead, I just ran blindly into the jungle, shoving at palm fronds as they slapped in my face. The greenery blurred together, and I forced my stumbling feet to continue on, no matter what. My breath heaved in my chest, and I could hear the hooting, angry calls of the cavemen behind me, but I didn‘t slow down. Thump thump…thump thump. Oh, shit. I recognized that sound. I froze in place, my eyes darting wildly, head spinning. Somewhere, there was a big

dinosaur looking for a bite to eat, and here I was, alone in the wilderness. I didn‘t even have the flare gun, or one of the crude spears the cavemen toted. Ahead of me, the bushes parted and a large, plate-headed dinosaur crossed the path just ahead, oversized rounded head swaying as he looked for me. I froze in terror. An arm snaked around my shoulders, a hand pressed over my mouth. A hot, hard body pressed up against mine, and I heard a voice whisper in my ear. ―Silencio.‖ I froze in place, the stranger holding me against him, pinned into stillness. As we stood there, perfectly still, I noticed a few things about the person behind me—though I didn‘t dare turn. His body radiated warm heat, and judging from the thick arm that was tossed over my shoulders, he was taller than me. I caught the faint smell of coconut and male sweat and outdoors, an oddly enticing mixture. This wasn‘t Mr. Wingarde or the stewardess…who was this man and how was he here? The person holding his body against mine remained stock still, and I followed suit, not wanting to be the one to break and cause the dinosaur to turn. My mind was a crazy jumble as we waited for the dinosaur to pass. Who was it behind me? The dinosaur snuffed the air, then eventually wandered away a few (eternal) minutes later. My breath expelled in a whoosh that made me dizzy; I hadn‘t realized I was holding it. ―Oh, my god,‖ I whispered. ―That was close.‖ The man behind me grunted in response. I turned to face my savior and gasped in surprise. It was the beautiful, blonde man

from my wild fever dreams. Perhaps I hadn‘t dreamed him after all. I should have guessed as the dreams were so vivid. Tousled, bleached blonde hair swept around his cheekbones, ragged and loose. His face was darkly tanned, and his entire body was the same, dark buttery shade of gold, rippling with muscles. Impossibly green eyes stared down at me under a chiseled brow. He was a golden Tarzan, dressed only in a loincloth. He was gorgeous. He was frowning at me. The stranger muttered something I didn‘t understand. It sounded vaguely familiar, but I couldn‘t make it out. I shook my head to explain that I didn‘t understand him. Tarzan reached out and touched the corner of my mouth with the back of his knuckles. The skin stung at the light touch, and I realized that he was touching the nowbruised skin where the caveman had backhanded me. I gave a hesitant smile and ducked my head, suddenly shy at his unspoken question. ―I pissed someone off.‖ His fingers touched under my chin, and he lifted my face to his. Awestruck and feeling dizzy again, I stared up at the man. Lord, but he was beautiful. His eyes were the greenest I‘d ever seen, and a few days of blonde stubble coated his jaw. He smelled warm and musky and wonderful. He was frowning at my forehead, and his fingers brushed a lock of my dark hair off my forehead. ―I don‘t understand you,‖ I complained. How frustrating to find someone—another survivor—and I couldn‘t even speak to him. I wanted to ask who he was, how long he‘d been here, but I felt exhausted, my knees weak. The close call from the dinosaur had

drained me. I sagged with sudden exhaustion. He reached out, one strong arm reaching around my waist to bolster me. I let him hold me—so far he hadn‘t tried to touch me in hideous ways like Bgha had. ―Bgha meh!‖ Speak of the devil. The bellow came from the far end of the jungle, and I turned to see the caveman racing towards us, followed close behind by his followers. ―Oh boy.‖ I began to feel dizzy and lightheaded again—most likely from heat exhaustion. ―How did that little bastard find me?‖ Instinctively, I ducked behind Tarzan. I felt safe and protected next to him. The feeling grew as Tarzan put a possessive arm in front of me, separating me from the angry caveman. ―Bgha,‖ he greeted, his voice a pleasant warning. His voice modulated, and lowered into the garbled, harsh language that the cavemen were speaking. Whatever he was saying, it pissed Bgha off. The caveman beat his chest with a fist, spitting words at the two of us and waving his spear. ―Bgha meh! MEH! MEH! Voschay cos zuay! Na Sav dor! Meh! ‖ The blonde man shook his head, gesturing with his hand in a way that meant he wasn‘t putting up with Bgha‘s shit. Tarzan motioned at me, his voice becoming angry on my behalf, clearly. I didn‘t know what he was saying, but it sounded outraged. ―You tell him,‖ I whispered, egging him on. ―Tell that sorry bastard to back off and leave me alone.‖ Tarzan turned his intense green eyes to me and pointed at my cheek, saying something I didn‘t understand.

Bgha came forward and tried to put a hand on my thigh possessively. I cringed and slapped at his small, brutish hands. His touch made me feel faint with disgust, and my stomach churned so violently I thought I might be sick. My Tarzan growled low in his throat and shook his head. He pointed at my forehead, and then at himself. I touched my forehead, echoing his gesture. What did that mean? The blonde god pointed at his own forehead again and spat a word at Bgha. ―Meh.‖ Oh boy. I was starting to recognize that ‗meh‘ word very well. It seemed to be native for ‗mine‘. So now I was being claimed by the blonde god? ―What is this, Ebay?‖ I shoved at Tarzan‘s shoulder. Suddenly his protective clasping of my body didn‘t come across as protective as much as it seemed…interested. I wasn‘t a blow-up doll they could fight over. And if this guy‘s tan was any indication as to how long he‘d been shipwrecked, he‘d been a while without a girl. From the frying pan into the fire, and right back to the frying pan. Bgha wasn‘t taking no for an answer, either. He shook his head violently at my new captor, then gestured angrily, taking a step back when the blond man lunged forward in a threat. ―Hey now,‖ I said, alarmed. I didn‘t want them to fight—the blond man had no weapons on him, and Bgha was surrounded by a bunch of spear-toting, angry cavemen. I didn‘t want to put odds on this one. ―Meh,‖ said the blond man once more, calmly. Before I could protest, Tarzan picked me up and swung me over his shoulder. His

hand rested on my bikini bottom. ―Meh,‖ he repeated. ―We really should talk about this,‖ I protested, but my pleas fell on silent ears.

Chapter Five

The undulating motion of Tarzan‘s shoulder against my abdomen made me sick. I closed my eyes in an effort not to throw up, and passed out again, letting the heat exhaustion win. The world blacked out around me. Rippling shades of darkness took over for a time, and I vaguely remembered a soothing, low male voice murmuring in my ear, speaking words I didn‘t understand. I faded in and out of consciousness, the one driving thought in my mind was thirst, and the terrible pain in my head, throat, and the hot, dull ache of my sunburned skin. I hurt everywhere, and the world was so hot. I couldn‘t cool off. The scent of coconuts wavered in and out of my feverish dreams, and I thought at one point that my Tarzan cradled me in his lap and brushed coconut juice into my parched, cracked mouth. Before I could thank him, I went under again. A feeling of coolness washing over me, and the pain in my head finally gone. My body felt light and airy, and something tickled my feet with feather-light touches. I heard the sound of rushing water very close nearby. Finally, I felt cool. My eyes fluttered open. I stared into the moonlit face of Tarzan. He loomed over me, all cheekbones and firm jaw. Tarzan murmured something low under his breath, and it took me a moment to realize that he was cradling me against his chest. Even now, my face was almost embarrassingly close to one flat nipple. There wasn‘t an ounce of fat on the man‘s divine

body. Water lapped around my waist and legs. Tarzan held me in the middle of a stream, and the tickle against my feet was the current rushing past my legs. I floated, half cupped against his body, half in the water, and the water was so cold it felt like heaven against my super-heated skin. ―Where are we?‖ Just that simple question seemed to take far too much effort. He shook his head at me, cupped his hand in the water, and slowly trickled water over my bare shoulders. Oh good lord, I was naked. I opened my mouth to protest, when I felt his hand skim over the flesh of my wet shoulder, and all thoughts skittered out the window at that light touch. He caressed my shoulder as if it were the most fragile thing in the world, stroking me like he would a precious treasure. Goosebumps rose on my skin, and I watched his hand move over my body, dark, large hand against my pale skin. His fingers rubbed my arm, and I realized he was washing the dried blood off of me. How thoughtful of him, I thought to myself as my eyelids started to droop again. Feather-light fingers brushed against the tip of my breast, reverent in that brief touch, and I shivered, a low aching moan building in the back of my throat. That felt good. I arched against his hand, and felt his fingertips brush my jaw, felt his thumb graze my full lower lip. He whispered against my cheek. ―Duerme bien. ‖ My eyelids drooped shut. I burrowed against his chest closer, letting the darkness close back over me again, feeling safe for the first time in days. Tarzan would keep me

safe—the real one had kept Jane safe for all those years, right? I fell back to sleep as his wet hands skimmed my limbs and his soft, dark voice hummed me back into my dreams.

#

I dreamed about the T-Rex again, standing in the churned up sand. Dozens of footprints covered the beach, and with one swipe of his tail, he wiped them away. In my dream, he moved forward, and he was suddenly able to get in the cockpit, eating bites out of the plane all around me, moving slowly toward me. My eyes flew open just as the massive jaws reached for me. I stared at the unfamiliar cave wall over me, trying to place where I was. A cave? I didn‘t remember a cave. I did, however, remember being totally naked and pressed up against a hot, hard male form. And I was still naked. And so was he. As soon as that registered, I skittered away on my hands and knees, disturbing the large palm fronds that were thoughtfully placed over our bodies. When I was out of arm‘s reach, I turned and grabbed one of the leaves, wrapping it around my torso and trying to hide my nudity. Tarzan simply yawned and propped up on one elbow, rubbing his eyes clean of sleep and watching me. He seemed unashamed of his nudity, and merely regarded me, his gaze possessive. ―What is all this?‖ I tempered my voice from the outraged screech that I wanted to do—remembering the dinosaurs outside—and settled for an outraged whisper. ―Where

are my clothes?‖ They certainly weren‘t in the cave. In fact, the only thing in the cave was Tarzan himself, the bed of palm fronds he‘d so thoughtfully created for us, and the remnants of a fire at the entrance of the small cave. He regarded me with mild interest, not responding. I sighed. ―Right. I bet you don‘t speak English.‖ I drummed my fingers on the palm leaf wrapped around my breasts, trying to think. Like most people I knew, I‘d never bothered to learn a second language. So, I tried the easy route. I tapped my chest and announced, ―Diana. I‘m Diana.‖ Tarzan gave an interested look to my overflowing palm leaf and grinned. I blushed and tried again. ―Me, Diana.‖ I gestured at myself. ―Diana.‖ Then gestured at him, waiting. He chuckled, the low, sexy sound doing terrible things to my overclocked nerves. ―Diana,‖ he acknowledged, the word a heavily accented, throaty thrum that made my already-weak knees want to collapse. Then, he gestured at himself. ―Salvador.‖ His accent was so thick, I almost didn‘t understand him at first. ―Salvador,‖ I repeated, unable to roll my ‗r‘ and pronounce it just like he did. ―Oh,‖ I blurted. ―You‘re Spanish,‖ I said, excited that I‘d finally pieced together his unfamiliar accent. In the next moment, I was crestfallen. ―I don‘t know Spanish.‖ He simply regarded me with a cocked eyebrow. I waved a hand in exasperation. ―Never mind. We‘ll find some other way to communicate.‖ I pointed at the palm leaf again. ―Clothing?‖ I repeated the gesture a few more times, trying to explain what I was looking for by

strategically moving the palm leaves, and at last, he seemed to grasp what I was trying to communicate. He stood up, buck naked, and strolled to the front of the cave. Oh jeez, I‘d seen too much—and not nearly enough—in those few glorious moments. The man had a flawless body. Not that much had been covered by his loincloth from yesterday, mind you, but what it had covered brought a heavy blush to my cheeks, and I wasn‘t a virgin. Salvador was one lucky, lucky man. And you’re going to be a lucky girl, my traitorous brain said to me, and I shut it down, pat. Not going to think about those kinds of things, nope. I averted my eyes, trying not to be hideously embarrassed. After all, I recalled flashes of a memory of being cradled up against his chest and letting him wash me. Surely it was too late to be embarrassed by nudity, right? Didn‘t matter. I wasn‘t losing my palm frond until I could cover it with bikini, damn it. A few moments later, a hand appeared at the edge of my vision, and I glanced over, nearly finding myself at eye level with certain dry-mouth inducing parts of Salvador‘s anatomy. ―Oh, my,‖ I exclaimed and turned away, wanting to die of embarrassment. His laugh rumbled through the cave, and he draped my swimsuit over my shoulder instead, taking the hint and walking away, presenting me only with a view of butt-cheeks that were as deliciously taut and tanned as the rest of him. ―Don‘t you have a loincloth to put on?‖ I said in protest as I turned to the cave wall and hastily dressed.

He didn‘t answer me, but I was starting to expect that. I tied the strings of my swimsuit behind my neck, noticing that he‘d cleaned my clothing—and while it wasn‘t exactly store-bought clean, it wasn‘t covered with dirt and other people‘s dried blood. ―Thank you for cleaning my things,‖ I said, knowing he couldn‘t understand me. I still wanted to say it. He grunted from the far end of the cave, as if grasping my meaning. By the time I turned to face him again, he was fully dressed once more—the amused look on his face expressing that it was more for my benefit than his. I refused to thank him for that. Salvador gestured for me to sit down, and I did so, choosing a spot on our makeshift palm-frond bed. The cave was little more than a nook in the rocky cliff, so it wasn‘t as if there was much of anywhere else to go. He gestured for me to remain seated, and then disappeared out the front of the cave, hopping off the narrow ledge. ―Wait!‖ I panicked, surging to my feet so quickly it made my still-weak body dizzy. ―You‘re leaving me?‖ I stumbled to the front of the cave and wobbled at the lip, hugging the wall to support myself. My fingers tightened on the cave wall at the sight of the jungle below me. We were very, very high up. More of the large, prehistoric trees dotted the landscape below, and thick, ropy vines hung from the trees. To my surprise, Salvador wasn‘t swinging from those like some sort of walking cliché, but was using the branches themselves to climb down. Salvador tensed when he saw me race to the edge of the cave and raised a warning hand at me, his dark, tanned body clinging to the tree with skill that I‘d never manage, not in a million years. ―Diana,‖ he shouted back at me as I wobbled and teetered at the

edge. ―No, Diana!‖ Boy, scolding was a universal language. ―I‘m not going anywhere,‖ I called back at him, and to prove it, I moved inside a few steps and re-parked myself on the ground. My exhausted body was all too happy for that, and I watched him climb down one of the massive trees with grace and skill. It was amazing. The man was athletic beyond anything I‘d ever seen, and seemed to instinctively know his way around the forest. Heck, he wasn‘t even wearing shoes. I wondered how long he‘d been here for him to become this comfortable with the island, and goosebumps prickled on my skin. Exactly how long had he been stranded here? Salvador disappeared out of sight for a few long minutes, and I forced myself to remain seated and not run down after him. He wouldn‘t abandon me, not when he‘d taken the time to rescue me from Bgha‘s crew. I remembered how tenderly he‘d bathed me in the stream, and then I thought of his fingers brushing against my nipple, and the heated look in his eyes. Was I the only woman on the island? How long had Salvador been here? Alone? Salvador returned a short while later, calling my name from the bottom of the cliff. ―Diana!‖ ―First you don‘t want me to get to the edge, next you do,‖ I muttered to myself, peering over the ledge. Down below, Salvador grinned up at me, a flash of white teeth in a golden face. In his hands he held a few coconuts and what had to be the biggest damn banana I‘d ever seen.

He made a swinging gesture with his hand, and said my name again, and I realized he wanted me to catch the fruit as he threw it up to me. It seemed a lot easier in concept than in reality. I lay flat on my stomach on the cave floor, and stretched my arms over the lip of the cave mouth, trying to catch the fruit. Ten minutes later, one of the coconuts had busted because I‘d accidentally slapped it at a bad angle, and it careened against the cliff face. I‘d caught the banana—and bruised it—and was trying to catch the remaining coconut. To Salvador‘s credit, he didn‘t laugh at my pitiful attempts, though I caught hint of a smile tugging his lips. Two more attempts, and I finally wrapped my fingers around that damn coconut and disappeared back over the ledge. Salvador climbed the wall easily and was back at my side within moments. I offered the coconut to him to cover the fact that I didn‘t know how to open it without spilling it everywhere. ―Here. You caught it, you serve it.‖ He crouched next to me, his body alarmingly close to mine. ―You‘re either trying to make me nervous,‖ I said, scooting a half step away, ―or you‘re one of those no-boundary type people.‖ I forced myself to concentrate on the coconut—which was the size of a basketball, and wondered if everything out here was bigger. My eyes caught sight of his loincloth and I blushed a bright red under my sunburn. No comment. As I watched, he pulled a small knife sheath out of the back of his loincloth, and I blinked in surprise. ―When did that get there?‖ He glanced over at me as I spoke, and winked as he cut a hole in the coconut and

offered me the first drink. I lifted it to my mouth, suddenly thirsty. The first few drops of coconut juice touched my lips, and the taste was pure heaven. I drank heavily, and a few drops dribbled down the sides of my mouth and chin, and I offered him the coconut back so I could wipe my face. Instead of taking the fruit from me, Salvador reached out to touch my chin, wiping away the drops that slid down my skin with intense concentration. His green eyes met mine, and he sucked the juice off his thumb as he watched me. Oh my. My entire body tingled at the sight of that. ―You‘re trying to seduce me on sight alone, aren‘t you, jungle boy?‖ Feeling suddenly shy, I averted my eyes and thrust the coconut against his chest. His chuckle of amusement just embarrassed me more, and I concentrated on peeling the banana while he drank, trying not to think about his loincloth and the obvious parallel between the oversized fruit in my hands and the well-equipped man in the loincloth next to me. My cheeks burning, I concentrated on eating my half of the banana. I took a big bite, then began to blush. Because, really, there's no way to eat a banana and make it look nonsexual without looking like a total slob. I opted for slob, of course, chewing with mouth open and making a lot of noise. He watched me eat quietly and without expression, and I got the vague feeling that he knew what I was doing...and he found it a little bit amusing, which only flustered me more. I stared outside of the cave -- not at him -- as we ate. Being awake and without something to focus on other than the utterly masculine and devastatingly handsome man

next to me was unnerving. Not to mention he'd seen me naked. I couldn‘t stop thinking about that either. Once I'd finished eating, he got to his feet. Green eyes looked expectantly down at me, and he gestured at the entrance to the cave. We were leaving. I wiped my sticky fingers on my bikini bottom and tried not to frown. "Now? We have to leave now?" He ignored my question and glanced over the edge, then moved over to my side, grabbing me by the waist and slinging me over his shoulder before I had time to protest. I smacked against his hard shoulder, stunned out of breath. Where exactly was he taking me? The answer was obvious when he got to the edge of the tiny cave and reached for the vines that wandered the cave wall. We were going down. I freaked out. "What are you doing?" I yelled into his ear, hammering my fists on his back and kicking my legs like a child in a temper tantrum. "Put me down! Now, dammit!" He backed away from the ledge with a muffled curse of surprise, and spent the next few minutes trying to calm my kicking legs before I got him in the tenders. "Diana," he growled under his breath, exasperated with me. I didn't care. I wasn't going down that ledge over his shoulder -- it was too unsteady, too loose. I continued to smack him until he put me down. We glared at each other for a long moment, and then he began to climb down himself, without waiting for me. "Fine! Be that way!" I called after him. "Just leave me up here! I'll get down on my

own!" Somehow. I crossed my arms and waited. He'd treated me like a prized possession just yesterday, so I was confident he wasn't going to leave me now. Not after letting me eat half his food. I peered over the edge and sure enough, he‘d already gotten to the bottom and was staring up at me with an amused look. He gestured at the vines casually, then grinned as if to say I dare you. ―A challenge, eh?‖ I never backed down from a challenge, especially not when it came from smug, muscular island guys. I put my hands on my hips and stared down over the side of the cliff wall, trying to figure out the best possible approach, then getting nervous when I realized there probably wasn‘t one. ―Just suck it up and go,‖ I told myself. When I could procrastinate no longer, I knelt at the lip of the cave and grasped the vines, carefully swinging my legs over and holding my breath. A prayer would be good right about now, I thought, and began one as I rocked over the edge. Oh Lord, if I slip and fall, please let me die instantly. That’s all I ask. Love, Diana. But I didn‘t die instantly. The vines held, and I cradled against the rock for a long, tense minute. Salvador called something up in Spanish, and I resisted the irritated urge to flip him the bird—I didn‘t want to free a hand. I could do this, I told myself as I eased my feet flat against the cliff wall and tried to brace my body against it. I‘d never been rock climbing, but the nature specials always made it look easy, so I tried to emulate them. It even worked, too. For about twenty feet. Then, when I was only halfway between

the cave and the ground, my hands began to shake with the strain of holding up my body, and I suddenly knew that I wasn‘t going to make it to the bottom. ―Salvador,‖ I screamed, just before my fingers seized up and I lost my grip. I tumbled toward the ground. Strong arms caught me. Unfortunately for both of us, my weight and momentum was strong enough to force us both to the ground, and I landed on top of him in a heap. I lay there for a moment, my head spinning, before I realized that the warm, hard ground beneath me wasn‘t ground but Salvador‘s chest, and he wasn‘t moving. I sat up and flipped around, straddling his chest and leaning over his face, anxious to catch a glimpse of him breathing. His eyes were closed, his mouth slightly parted. ―Salvador? Are you okay?‖ I tapped his cheek, trying not to cry. Oh, no. I‘d gone and killed my jungle boy. ―Salvador?‖ Salvador‘s eyes flew open; he‘d been faking. His hands flew around my hips, pinning me against his body as he stared up at me. I felt his hips surge against mine, felt the hard length of him that I straddled, and blushed as I realized that I‘d gone and put myself into a very compromising situation. And I made no move to get up. He stared up at me, green gaze capturing mine, and he raised one hand from my hip to caress my cheek gently, as if amazed by me. ―Belleza,‖ he said softly. His fingers slid downward, brushed my mouth with infinite gentleness. Heat flushed through my body, my nipples hardening under my thin bikini top. His body underneath mine was something out of a temple—all golden muscles and rippling male beauty. I ran a fingertip down his chest, brushing along the line of his rock-hard

abdomen, down to his belly-button, where I dipped my finger in. His hips surged against mine in response. Oh, I liked that—liked the reaction I elicited out of him. I leaned forward, pressing my body against his long, lean one, my lips seeking his. He tasted of the wilderness, his lips soft as they parted underneath mine. Hesitant, at first, as if he were afraid of scaring me off, gently tasting and exploring, content to let me lead. I dragged my tongue across the seam of his mouth, giving him wordless permission. It was like unleashing a tiger. Salvador gave a low growl in his throat, and rolled to the side, and I suddenly found myself pinned beneath him, his delicious weight bearing down on me. His tongue thrust into my mouth, his kiss as intense and ravaging as a starving man‘s, and with each stroke of his tongue into my mouth, his hips pumped against my own. My legs tightened and I rubbed my calves against his, arching against him. Oh god, that felt really, really good. The hard length of his body on my own was maddening, his cock rubbing up against the sensitive spot where my legs parted and my sex was covered by a strip of blue bikini. I moaned into his mouth as he rotated his hips, spreading my legs a little wider until my body cradled his, and I wrapped my legs around his waist fully. Oh, I liked this. My hands pulled at his hard shoulders as his mouth devoured mine, my hands roaming over his shoulders. I needed to touch this beautiful body everywhere. I‘d been admiring it from afar, and underneath my questing fingers it was hot, hard, and muscled everywhere. He felt so good. I felt alive at that moment, in the middle of the jungle, a hot, almostnaked man pressed up against me and making me feel like the most beautiful woman in

the world, instead of a scraggly, unkempt castaway. He moved his face lower, pressing kisses along my jawline and licking at my throat, and I arched my back, wallowing in the sensation. ―Diana,‖ he said, his voice husky against my collarbone. I felt him loosen the strings at the top of my bikini. My hands slid lower on his back, clenching and pulling at his waist and buttocks, and I rotated my hips against his. ―You‘re the most beautiful man I‘ve ever seen,‖ I whispered against his hair. ―Make me feel alive.‖ Salvador stilled against me, and for a brief moment, I wondered if he‘d understood the desperate words I‘d whispered into his ear, the obvious pleadings of a girl with posttraumatic stress disorder stranded on an island with the hottest man she‘d ever seen. His head rose. He crouched over me protectively, scanning the forest. I stared up at him, wondering if I‘d done something wrong, and began to feel embarrassed. Here I was, making out on a forest floor with a man I didn‘t even know. ―You should probably let me up.‖ He put a hand over my mouth and shook his head, and that‘s when I realized his attention was elsewhere. I squirmed underneath him, but he mistook my movements and gave me a quick glance and a scolding shake of his head, then went back to listening to the forest. I glared up at him, resisting the urge to lick his palm, just to get his hand off my face. Of course, he might take that as another come on. Thump thump… thump thump. Salvador‘s body tensed over mine. I whimpered in fear.

Salvador looked down at me, my eyes wide with fright. He nodded, then removed his hand from my mouth and put a finger to his lips, indicating silence. I nodded. Salvador rose to his feet and helped me up. I noticed that somehow between the time we were grinding and the time we were standing, he‘d managed to grab his knife once more, and I stared down at the small blade. It was no longer than his hand. ―That‘s not going to save us from the T-Rex,‖ I whispered at him. ―We have to go back up.‖ I pointed at the top of the cliff, where our tiny nook of a cave waited. ―Up to safety.‖ Instead of listening to me, however, he grabbed my hand and began to run. I had no choice but to follow behind him, his grip on my wrist so tight it stung. I wanted to protest that he was hurting me, that we should go back, but then the tell-tale thump thump sounded even louder nearby, and the T-Rex gave an angry roar. Suddenly, I didn‘t mind his hurrying. We dove under the cover of an oversized fern just as a heavy tail swung past, and Salvador covered me with his heavy body, pressing me into the dirt. Something hard and prickly bit into my cheek, but I didn‘t dare move. His hand pressed down on the small of my back, his thumb stroking my bare skin, and it was only that small gesture that stopped me from screaming. I could see the creature‘s legs out from under the underside of one fern frond, and as I watched, the heavy clawed feet paused, and then turned slightly. The creature snorted, and sniffed the air again. He turned back towards us and took a heavy, thumping step, tail swishing like a cat,

and I thought I‘d wet myself in fear. My body trembled all over. Salvador pressed a gentle kiss to my temple, and I took a small measure of comfort in the fact that he didn‘t seem to be frightened like I was, even though he held onto me with an iron grip. The dinosaur took another step towards us, sniffing the air, and I felt Salvador tense next to me. Just then, behind it, a herd of another kind of dinosaur thundered across the distant trees, and the T-Rex turned and charged through the trees after them. No sooner was he out of sight than Salvador grabbed my hand and dragged me out from under the bushes. We began to run again. We didn‘t stop running for a good thirty minutes. By the time we stopped to pause at the base of a stream, my body was covered in sweat, my limbs trembled with fatigue, and I‘d been crying silently the entire time, never losing my death grip on Salvador‘s hand. Salvador picked a few twigs out of my hair and brushed the dirt and tears from my cheeks. His mouth curled on one side in a rueful smile. ―Sorry,‖ I said, giving my face an angry swipe. I felt like an idiot. He‘d saved my life and I‘d done nothing but bawl and whine. ―I‘m usually not chased by man-eating dinosaurs on a daily basis, so you‘ll have to forgive me if I‘m not reacting well.‖ He brushed my lips with his thumb, and said nothing. After that, the rest of the day fell into a pattern of resting and wading down the stream to lose our scent. At least, I assumed it was to lose our scent—Salvador didn‘t tell me. Heading up the stream against the current was just as exhausting as running, and it wore me out. By the time the stars were high in the evening sky, my teeth were chattering from the chill of the water, and I was numb with exhaustion. The only thing in my body that continued to have strength was my hand—I clenched his hand in my own so tightly that

my palm was sweating against his. To his credit, he didn‘t release my hand. I guess he sensed that I needed some comfort. We‘d grabbed a few pieces of fruit from the riverbanks as we‘d journeyed, but I was still starving. The lack of protein was making me shaky and hungry, but I wouldn‘t let Salvador leave me. Every time he got up, I automatically got to my feet as well, and reached for my hand. He seemed to understand my fright and need for companionship. I left his side at one point to relieve my bladder, and when I returned, I saw he‘d thoughtfully made me a small bed amongst the palm leaves. He gestured for me to come lay down. I did so, reaching for his hand automatically. He didn‘t give it to me, but instead leaned back against the tree and let me cradle my head against his leg. I blushed at first, wondering if this was going to become sexual again, but I was too tired to care, and huddling up next to him seemed like a good idea. He played with his knife and stroked my bare shoulder as I rested my cheek on his warm, sinewy thigh and stared at the sky that peeked through the heavy canopy of the forest. I could barely make out a few of the stars. They looked like the same stars at home, and the sight surprised me as well as saddened me. ―I wonder what happened to Mr. Wingarde,‖ I said softly against his leg. ―And the stewardess. I didn‘t see them on the beach anywhere, just the pilot. And he got eaten.‖ I shuddered at the memory. He pulled me closer to him and rubbed his hand on my shoulder, trying to generate warmth.

It was a thoughtful gesture, but the chill inside me had nothing to do with the night. I was numb from the inside out. ―I wonder if I‘ll ever get home?‖ I stared up at the stars overhead, feeling melancholy. ―I don‘t want to be here.‖ I glanced over at Salvador‘s impassive face and felt guilty, even though he couldn‘t understand me. ―No offense.‖ He was silent, the soft, steady stroking of my arm uninterrupted by my speech. Not that it mattered if I spoke it aloud or not, but it felt good to be having some sort of conversation, even if it was one-sided. ―I even miss Mr. Wingarde and my lousy exboyfriend who couldn‘t keep a job.‖ I laughed at that, the sound tired and bitter. ―To think, I broke up with him because he wasn‘t ambitious enough for me. I wanted to sell enough real estate to retire early, maybe start a business of my own.‖ My amused chuckle grew strained. ―Everyone warned me not to go on this trip, but all I could see was the big fat commission. Anything for the job, you know? And here I am, stuck on dinosaur island with a hot guy that doesn‘t speak English, and I‘m hungry, and tired, and cold, and wet, and all I can think about is the fact that I‘d give this all up for the worst night at home.‖ More hot tears dropped from my face and onto his leg. ―I hate it here. I want to go home.‖ A sob caught in my throat. ―Please let me wake up and this all be a bad dream.‖ Ever silent, Salvador pulled me into his arms and rocked me until I fell asleep, listening to the soft sigh of his breath and hiccupping from my tears.

Chapter Six

When I woke up the next morning, Salvador was already staring down at me. It was a disconcerting feeling, to have a gorgeous, unshaven man looming over me when I woke up, and then to realize that this wasn‘t a hotel room and a cheap one night stand, but a deserted island. Not that either option was prime, of course. Salvador nodded acknowledgement when I sat up, then gestured for me to be silent again. I froze in place. Were the dinosaurs back? Apparently they were not, because he smiled in the next moment, and patted my leg. I was momentarily dazzled by his masculine beauty. At least, I was dazzled until he handed me another banana and gave me a suggestive look that caused me to flush bright red. Okay, so the banana eating from yesterday hadn‘t gone unnoticed by him. We ate as we walked, and I was still feeling weak and tired. As we walked, I dreamed about burgers and pizza, and my mouth watered, and I continued to feel sorry for myself. ―Do you eat anything but bananas?‖ I said to him at one point, feeling irritated. ―Not that I‘m ungrateful, mind you, but I‘d like a nice juicy steak as much as the next girl. I don‘t suppose you ever eat the dinosaurs around here, instead of just the other way around? No?‖ He ignored me as I spoke, scanning the trail, and I sighed. ―I suppose not.‖

We crossed another stream about midmorning, our pace a slow, easy walk through the underbrush. I‘d notice a small trail every once in a while, but Salvador kept away from those. At first, I wondered why he‘d do that, when the small dirt paths seemed like easier walking than the ferny under-growth that we were cutting across, but he paused at one and looked back at me. ―Bgha,‖ he said, gesturing with his hand to show the reduced height of the cavemen. Oh—those were the cavemen‘s trails that we were avoiding. I suddenly didn‘t mind traipsing cross-country. I didn‘t want to run into that little bastard again. I knew we kept the pace at a slow walk because of me—I‘d seen glimpses of intense quickness from Salvador—but my feet were bare and I wasn‘t nearly as fast or sure on the terrain as he was. Every stick or rock I stepped on made me wince. My latest stumble was the worst one yet, and I stopped to glance down at the soles of my feet and noticed they were scraped open from where I‘d stepped on a rock. ―Damn it,‖ I said, tugging on Salvador‘s hand and making him stop. ―I‘m bleeding.‖ I gestured at my foot. His reaction of concern surprised me. Before I realized what was going on, I was down on my back on the forest floor, and Salvador loomed over me, my foot in his hand. ―Uh,‖ I said, squirming at the intense scrutiny he was giving my dirty foot. ―I‘m sure it‘s not that bad. Really.‖ He said something in Spanish under his breath, then glanced around, scanning the forest. I jerked my leg, trying to get it out of his grasp. To my surprise, he let me go and walked away a few feet to examine a nearby bush. Irritated, I sat up and glared at his back. ―Geez. You sure do blow hot and cold. One

moment you want to give me a foot massage, the next you‘re treating me like a leper. Make up your mind, already.‖ He returned a few moments later with a few long, spiky leaves and began breaking them in his hand, and indicated I should give him my foot again. I lay back and presented my foot once more, skeptical. Warm fingers encircled my ankle, trapping it in his hand, and I barely had time to think about that before he smeared something cold and stinging on my foot. I tried to jerk it away. ―Ow!‖ He wouldn‘t let me escape him, and I had to sit there, cheeks burning with embarrassment as he scraped the mud and grime off my foot, applied more of the stinging plant, and then eventually wrapped the wounded appendage in soft leaves. His hands were soft as they kneaded the bruised flesh of my foot, and it got my mind thinking about other things he might tenderly stroke, and I began to get all flushed and bothered at the very thought. I jerked my foot away once he was done and examined it myself. It wasn‘t sparkling clean, of course—I doubted you could get anything sparkly clean in this muddy hole of an island, but it was reasonably clean and the gash was well-wrapped. As I watched, he cut a long piece of fabric from his teeny tiny breech-cloth and made it even tinier, and then offered the string of fabric to me, indicating that I should wrap it around my leafcovered foot to keep the makeshift bandage in place. I took it from him and gave him my thanks, adding, ―Just so you know, I‘m not going to be able to walk very fast in this.‖ I gestured at the oversized, leaf-covered end of my foot and got to my feet, hopping on one leg like a flamingo.

He grinned at my actions and pointed at the nearest tree, no more than ten feet away. I followed his pointing finger and frowned. ―It‘s a tree, yes?‖ I didn‘t understand what he meant. ―Tree?‖ ―Tree,‖ he agreed, chuckling, as if amused by me. His voice was deliciously husky. ―Tree,‖ he said again, pointing at the base and then gesturing upward. It took me a few moments to comprehend what he meant. ―You want me to go up the tree?‖ I made a climbing gesture. My gesturing hands seemed to amuse him mightily, because he grinned even as he nodded at me. ―Diana, tree,‖ he said. ―Why would I want to get in the tree?‖ I protested, but my words fell on deaf ears. Despite my protests, I was shuffled over to the tree and hoisted unceremoniously onto the lowest hanging branch. ―There, I‘m in the tree,‖ I said, clinging to the trunk and glaring down at him. ―Happy now?‖ ―Tree,‖ he repeated, then gestured that I should go higher. ―You are getting on my last nerve, Salvador,‖ I grumbled, but continued to climb. When I was about twenty or thirty feet off the ground and my legs began to throb due to my favoring of one foot, I looked down at him again. ―Tree?‖ I yelled down. ―Is this high enough? Tree?‖ He nodded at me, looking pleased. ―Tree.‖ I made myself comfortable on the branch and straddled it, ignoring the way the rough bark chafed my inner thighs. There was no way I was sitting sidesaddle on this enormous thing. The branch that I was on was fully twice as big around as Salvador‘s body, and it was one of the smaller ones. ―Damn tree,‖ I muttered.

Just then, Salvador disappeared down below. I panicked. He was leaving me? Here alone in the damn tree? ―Salvador!‖ I yelled at the top of my lungs, laying flat on my belly and getting ready to shimmy back down after him. Screw this. ―Salvador! Come back!‖ He reappeared down below, shaking his head at me in anger. ―Diana,‖ he called up, his voice low. ―Diana tree. Diana tree.‖ He put his finger to his lips, indicating silence. Diana tree silence. Yeah, I got the picture. ―Diana tree,‖ I agreed, a little disgruntled. If he wanted me to stay up here, I‘d stay up here. ―Salvador tree?‖ He shook his head and made some motion I didn‘t understand. ―Salvador,‖ he said, gesturing. It looked like sweeping. Diana tree silence, Salvador sweeping? I frowned down at him. ―You‘ll come back, won‘t you? Salvador comes back for Diana? Yes?‖ Salvador tilted his head up at me and gave me a blatant, sexy smile. ―Salvador and Diana, yes.‖ His look was suggestive, as if he meant a lot more by just linking our names. Oooh. That hadn‘t been what I meant, but I understood it all the same. Blushing, I sat back on the tree again. Down below, I caught a glimpse of dark golden skin and muscles, and leaned over my branch to watch the show. From up here, I could admire the man‘s body without worrying about him seeing my scrutiny. And my, was he beautiful. His shoulders were broad and thick, tapering to a trim waist and just a hint of buttock that was barely covered by his scraps of loincloth. As he

bent over, the muscles in his back rippled, and I felt my stomach flutter in response. I was attracted to the man like nobody‘s business. It was only after I stared at his gleaming, muscular form for long minutes that I started to realize what he was doing. At first, I thought he was preparing more medicinal gunk for my foot, because he went back to the spiky plant and cut a few more strands off, then crushed them in his hand, the digits of his finger gleaming with creamy moisture that oozed from the crushed leaves. Then, he took the oversized leaf and began to drag it along the ground in a right-to-left sweeping motion. Puzzled, I watched him work for several minutes. What on earth was he doing? He circled the base of my tree and went over the nearby surroundings, swiping the ground with that long, greasy leaf. It was only when he began to backtrack the trail we‘d taken to get here that I began to get a glimmer of understanding. He was going back and sweeping our trail with the strong scent of the plant, in order to throw any predators off of our smell. I thought of my bloody foot, and the alarm he‘d shown when he realized I‘d been bleeding for some time, and I felt chagrined. I hadn‘t even realized it would be an issue, but I guess I‘d made a lot more work for my poor Tarzan. I leaned over the branch and watched him work until he was well out of sight, and I wondered how far he‘d backtrack. Probably to the last stream we’d crossed, I thought. Now that I‘d stopped moving, I felt drowsy, and I rested my cheek on the knobby bark of the thick tree branch. It‘d be a while before he returned if he was going that far back. The last stream I remembered crossing was well over a few hours back. I fell asleep for a time. I wasn‘t sure how long I was out, but the next thing I knew, I

was drooling on the tree branch, my legs and arms were locked tight around the tree-limb itself and smarting from remaining in one uncomfortable position, and there was the world‘s biggest caterpillar crawling up my arm. Like an idiot, I screamed and shook my arm violently. The caterpillar took a few good shakes to dislodge. It landed back on the branch a few feet away from me and started inching forward again. Oh, hell no. I was not dealing with mutant-sized bugs in addition to everything else. I glanced over at the nearest branch over me, but it was too far out of reach. Glancing once more at the deadly caterpillar, I decided to shimmy down a level and see where that took me. I reached the new branch after about five minutes of careful maneuvering. It wasn‘t nearly as comfortable as my last branch, and part of it was rotted away, and the knothole where my leg would rest looked like it was full of equally disgusting, slimy insects. I imagined spiders the size of Dobermans and decided that maybe I‘d lurk on the ground for a few. It took a few minutes to get back to the ground, but once I was there, my makeshift bandage fell off like I‘d never tied it in place, and I spent another chunk of time trying to rig the damn thing to stay back on my foot. Salvador would have a heart-attack if he‘d knew that I‘d left the tree. No sense in adding to his anger by showing him I‘d undone all his hard work as well. My bandage floppy and falling to pieces—but still on my foot—I took a quick survey of my surroundings. Salvador hadn‘t returned yet, and the sun was about to go down. There was a definite chill in the air that reminded me that it got cold here at night, and I

rubbed my arms. Surely he hadn‘t left me for good. Not after traveling so slow today just for my benefit. I was just being paranoid. I settled at the base of the tree and pulled my legs close to me, watching as the forest sank into the busy time of night. A few creatures scurried about—some more of the oversized rodents I‘d seen a few times lurking in the underbrush—and were bolder now that the sun was going down. I glimpsed a dinosaur in the background and my heart nearly froze in my chest at the sight, but the extremely slow cadence of steps—no quick thump thump—and the fact that his long neck was angling upwards to eat leaves relaxed me. A brontosaur, I reminded myself, remembering how as a kid I‘d been in love with dinosaurs more than Barbies. How times had changed. Right about now, I‘d give anything to never seen another dinosaur again, I mused, just for a chance to return to the Barbie Malibu Dream Mansion, creepy boss or not. Something white underneath the moving strands of a bush caught the corner of my eye, and I glanced over, only mildly interested. A business card lay in the moist loamy dirt, damp and half-stuck to a leaf. As if in a dream, I crawled over the few steps to the plant and pulled the wet card off the leaf and flipped it over. Diana Holcomb, it read. Licensed Realtor. It was my business card. I got to my feet, weak and giddy. I only kept the cards in my purse, so for a card to be here meant that my purse was somewhere nearby. I also kept Chapstick (which I sorely needed), Tic-Tacs (which made my mouth water) and my cell phone (which made me

want to sob with joy). I paced our small campsite, oblivious to my bandaged foot, the bandages of which quickly fell apart after a few steps. Surely there was another business card close to here. There! A few bushes away, I caught another peep of white and raced towards it. Trembling, I plucked it from the dirt. Another two lay scattered in the dirt about fifty feet away. I followed the reckless trail of cards, until the tree I‘d been told to stay in was no longer in sight, and my heart was hammering in my throat with excitement. If I found my cell phone, I could call out. Surely we‘d be able to get satellite service from somewhere around here. I turned a corner, and lo, there it was. Hanging from a nearby tree-branch over one of the little dirt paths, almost entirely upended on itself and leaking business cards everywhere, was my stylish brown Coach handbag. I gave a small cry of joy at the sight and rushed forward to grab it. Just before my hands were about to clench around my purse in sheer joy, the ground gave way beneath my feet, and I slid into a muddy pit. My scream was cut off as mud filled my mouth, and I flailed at the bottom, trying to get my balance. A pit trap. Broken foliage dangled over the top of the pit, and I stared up at my purse, still hanging from the tree, contents dangling ever so sweetly out of reach. I stood up at the slushy bottom of the pit, my feet sucking and getting stuck in the watery mud, and it made me nervous. I didn‘t want to end up in quick-sand, unable to keep my head above the surface. If I stretched my arms up above my head, my fingertips just fell short of the lip of the pit. Frustrated, I slapped against the dirt wall and cursed,

looking for a root or something to grab onto. Up above, the fake foliage atop my pit rustled, and I slid back into the mud, cringing to the far corner of the pit. Visions of the T-Rex filled my mind, and I waited for that long, toothy head to lean over and chew me up and spit me out. Several dark, hulking figures leaned over the edge of the pit, and in the deepening twilight, I was able to make out the grinning face of Bgha. ―Meh,‖ he said down to me. Great. My caveman paramour had returned. Salvador was going to be so pissed at me…if he ever found me again.

#

The cavemen were able to get me out of the pit with a group effort. I raised my arms—because going with them was preferable to waiting to be eaten—and they hauled me out with callused, brutal hands, their fingers digging into my flesh so hard I was positive I‘d have bruises. They were strong, though, and within moments I was up on the muddy bank, covered in slime and shivering in cold. Bgha put a proprietary hand on my lower back. ―Meh!‖ The others didn‘t argue. They figured I was his. No one else was quite so vile and overbearing, after all. They gathered up my purse and bound my hands in front of me with a dirty piece of leather. With their little spears pricking my back, I was pushed to the front of the small party,

a mud-covered, miserable captive. I dragged my aching feet as we went along the small path, eyes stinging from the mud. My wet hair plastered to my face as I swung my head, looking for a hopeful glimpse of Salvador. I never saw him. A little part of my hopes died with me when I realized he wasn‘t coming. We walked for a few hours, until the moon was high in the sky and I was stumbling into the scenery in exhaustion. I‘d thought that we might have stopped earlier than this, but they seemed to want to press on. Bgha barked something at me. I shook my head, not understanding his language. It was clear soon enough when he reached out a leg to trip me, and I tumbled to the ground. The others howled with laughter at the sight of me sprawled on the ground, muddy and helpless. I struggled to right myself, but one planted a massive foot on my backside and shoved me to the ground again. I got the hint and stayed down. Within moments, my feet were bound together, just like my wrists, and the leather cut into my skin painfully. The cavemen settled in at the small clearing, plucking leaves off of nearby plants and chewing and laughing, and generally being boisterous. They were thrilled they had me again, I noted with disgust, because Bgha was the loudest one of all. One of the cavemen wandered into the woods with his spear, presumably to find dinner, and I huddled near the background, trying to stay out of eye contact as the others relaxed, pissed in the bushes, and continued their garbled, jubilant conversation. At one point, Bgha must have grown tired of bragging to the others about me, because he turned and looked over at me with beady eyes, and my skin prickled in fear. He approached me, a speculative gleam in his eye, and slid a hand over my bare, muddy

leg.

I shifted away from his touch, clamping my knees tightly together. I knew where this was heading. ―Go away,‖ I bit out, trying to sound as brave as possible. ―Fuck off.‖ He grinned down at me, yellow teeth crowning that nasty mess of beard, and jerked my knees apart. I clamped them back together again, only to have him dig his fingers harder into the flesh of my thighs and force my legs apart again. The other cavemen watched nearby, silent except for the occasional guttural jeer. I tried to fling him off by jerking my body hard to the side. ―Don‘t touch me,‖ I said, my voice raising to a frightened shriek when he did just that, his dirty, squat fingers exploring my belly and fingering my swimsuit with interest. His hairy body shifted against my leg, and I felt his erection pressed into my flesh. I shuddered with revulsion. ―Salvador‘s going to totally beat the shit out of you,‖ I said, biting back a sob of fear. ―You wait and see.‖ ―Ongomeh!‖ Called one of the voices, and all of the cavemen turned. One of the others was there—the one hunter, holding a nest full of oversized eggs. He raised one triumphantly over his head. ―Melaar ongomeh!‖ That got their interest right away. The cavemen gathered around the hunter, talking excitedly, fighting over the eggs. Bgha gave me one last cross look and slapped my leg, heading over with the others to claim his share. I breathed a sigh of relief. Tossed over for raw eggs. I could live with that. I wormed into the shadows, trying to disappear as they broke open the eggs and sucked the contents down with noisy slurps. Maybe they’d all get food poisoning and die,

I thought cheerfully. I huddled in the shadows, working my wrists and trying to kick my feet to loosen the too-tight leather. A hand clamped over my mouth. ―Diana,‖ Salvador breathed against my neck. Joy rushed through me, so thick and hot that I wanted to turn and kiss the man. Excited relief bubbled in my throat, and I bit my lip hard to keep from crying out. Instead, I raised my tied hands to show him the straps holding me captive. Nearby, the cavemen fought over the last three eggs, arguing loudly with each other. Warm, familiar hands slid under my body and lifted me—without a sound—off the ground and we melted into the shadows. This time, I didn‘t mind being tossed over Salvador‘s shoulder as he raced through the jungle on quiet feet. We weren‘t more than twenty feet away when the outraged bellows hit my ears, echoing in the forest. Salvador didn‘t break in stride, though, just continued his crosscountry path through the depths of the forest, me jouncing on his shoulder. I relaxed against him, realizing that I was safe once more, and felt relief so overwhelming that I nearly cried. Like it or not, I was not letting Salvador out of my sight again. If I had to pick between being his woman, and being the woman of a caveman, I‘d pick the sexy Spaniard any day.

#

We stopped a few hours later, as the sun was coming up behind the trees. I‘d dozed

for a bit on Salvador‘s shoulder, but the rollicking motion left me with little rest and a lot of seasickness. Salvador had slowed down as the night wore on, and I could sense him dragging. I was happy when he put me down and we sat against a fallen log. I raised my tied hands at him. ―Can you untie me?‖ He gave me a quick look, and then shook his head, closing his eyes and ignoring me. Undeterred, I shoved my hands on his chest. ―Look, I‘m grateful to you for saving me, but I‘d really appreciate it if you just untied me. I‘m not going anywhere.‖ I punctuated each word with an angry stab of his chest. ―I‘ve learned my lesson.‖ He merely watched me under hooded, sleepy eyes. This lack of communication thing was really getting to me. I sighed and gestured with my hands. ―Diana Salvador meh. Understand? Meh. I‘m yours. I‘m not running away or anything stupid like that.‖ He raised an eyebrow at me. ―Meh?‖ I blushed. ―Meh.‖ His scrutiny continued and I squirmed, wriggling at my bonds. ―Can you please untie me now?‖ Salvador gave me another searching look, then finally reached out to undo the bonds that kept my hands tied. I rotated my wrists as he untied my feet, and rubbed at the irritated skin. ―Oh, thank you. That feels so wonderful. I—ulp!‖ My words choked off when he raised my foot and stared at the underside. He ran his fingers along the dirty pads of my foot. I giggled at the sensation and tried to squirm away. ―That tickles.‖ Apparently he wasn‘t too happy with what he saw, because he grunted and gave me a long look, then picked me up and put me over his shoulder again.

―Wait!‖ I slapped one hand along his back. ―I didn‘t get a chance to—― My words cut off when he gave my backside a quick slap, reminding me that I needed to be quiet in the jungle. I sighed and obeyed, and hoped we were stopping again soon. We did. Not more than five minutes passed before I heard the rushing of water—and then I had to pee really bad. I squirmed on his shoulder until he released me, and we took a momentary break as I went to the bushes. He stuck close by—a little too close for me not to be embarrassed, but after our last mishap, I didn‘t want him going anywhere. Business done, I stepped out of the bushes and wished for a sink to clean my hands at, noting the grime under my fingernails, and sighed. Oh, to be clean again. I got my wish. Two more minutes of jostling travel on Salvador‘s shoulder, and the smell of water hit the air at the same time that I realized we were near the sound of the moving water. I craned my head to see my surroundings, and gasped with excitement when I did. ―A waterfall!‖ Salvador gently set me down at a rocky outcrop near the edge of the small pool, and I sighed with appreciation at its beauty. It wasn‘t a big waterfall—rather, one of the thicker streams had met a rocky outcrop at some point, and the result was a small burbling waterfall that dropped into a small pool that ran off into another stream. The water smelled clean and cold, though, and I got excited just at the thought. I turned to look at Salvador. ―Is it safe to bathe?‖ I made a washing motion, gesturing at my muddy, caked hair. He nodded at me and pulled his knife out, gesturing that he was going to scout the area while I washed. Sounded good to me. Thick plants covered the banks of the small pool, and I hid behind one of those and

shucked my bikini before sliding into the water and immediately submersing myself up to my shoulders to hide my body in case he felt like looking. Not that I was much to look at right now, I admitted to myself. Grime caked every pore of my body, and the lower I sunk in the water, the larger the cloud of filthy water that surrounded me. It was difficult to stay down—the water wasn‘t deeper than waist level, so I glanced around to see where Salvador was. His broad, golden back was in the distance, and I watched him as he circled the camp, checking things. He seemed occupied, though, so I decided to be a little less shy with my body, and stood up in the water, approaching the waterfall. The water was crisp and cold, my skin peppering with goosebumps and my nipples hardening. I ran my fingers under the water teasingly, and gave a sigh of pure relief. It was just about as close as I was going to get to my shower at home, and I slid under the cold spray without further thought, wanting to get clean. It was the best feeling in the world, I decided. Getting clean was better than all the Godiva chocolates in the universe. I scrubbed at my filthy hair with my fingers, letting the water loosen the chunks of mud and encrusted dirt out of my hair and detangling my hair with my fingers until it felt normal again. I stood under the heavenly spray of the waterfall for endless minutes, entranced by the feel of the water sluicing over my body. Eyes closed, hair clean, I let the water wash over me, taking away all the horrors of the past few days. I ran my hands over my body, feeling the grime give way to the spray of the waterfall, and heard a soft splash that was not quite drowned out by the roar of the waterfall itself. I leaned out of the spray and wrung my hair out with my hands, opening my eyes.

Salvador was wading through the water towards me, the waves caressing his hips so low that I knew he didn‘t have his breechcloth on. The look on his face was intense; like a starving man that had just had a banquet presented before his eyes. The banquet was my naked form, sleek with water. As I stared into his hungry eyes, a surge of lust shot through my own body. His gaze moved over me, ravening and hungry. His steps were slow and sure as he waded through the water towards me. I placed my hands over my breasts and ducked my head, feeling suddenly shy at his intense gaze. It was one thing to wear a bikini around him, and another to be totally exposed. Salvador came to my side, close enough to feel the heat from his body, but not touching. His lips parted as he looked over my newly-scrubbed skin. No words were spoken between us; his body was saying plenty enough for me to hear. He wanted me. It was in the way his breath panted out through his lips, the intensity of his gaze. His entire being was focused utterly on me. My body tingled with awareness as I waited for him to make a move. He lifted his hand out of the water and reached for my hands. I still cupped my breasts protectively, so his fingers brushed against my skin. It was an unstated question—how far would I let him go? But I wanted him to touch me—more than anything. My hands slid away from my breasts and I let them fall to my sides, the waves lapping against my skin. I waited, breast and body exposed, for him to make the first move. He‘d been marooned here on this hideous island for quite some time. When he touched me, would he be rough and fast

with need? The thought excited me and made me tremble all at once. He didn‘t move for a long, long minute, his eyes on my body, not saying a word. I began to get nervous, and I squirmed slightly under his scrutiny, my arms flexing involuntarily and I raised one, intending to cover myself once more. Then, Salvador reached for me. He brushed the backs of his fingers on my puckered, bare nipple. I shuddered at that gentle stroke and made a soft noise in my throat, leaning into him. My hand moved to his hip. I needed him to touch me. Reverent, he grazed my breast again, teasing the nipple, his fingers playing along my flesh and then caressing the soft, heavy underside. He brushed my other hand away from my other breast, exposing it to his gaze as well, and swept his fingers across the second peak, lavishing it with the same feather-light touches that he‘d given the first. I gave a soft whimper of frustration when his hands gently cupped my breasts. He remained in place, motionless except the occasional flick of his thumbs across the taut peaks of my nipples, and the junction of my legs throbbed in anticipation. He seemed lost in thought. I raised my hands to his nape, toying with the shaggy blonde hair that curled against the back of his neck. ―Salvador,‖ I said, my voice a husky whisper. ―Don‘t you want me?‖ He‘d been hinting at it for two days, and now that I was here and naked and in his arms, he was stopping? His thumbs flicked across my nipples again, and I gave a low moan, leaning forward and pressing my forehead against his. Our heated skin met, mine damp with water, and our mouths hovered near each other, not kissing, but sharing space. I could smell his

breath, faint and spicy. I made the first move, then, slanting my mouth toward his, giving his lips the same, feather-light touch he‘d expressed on my breasts. Gently, I pulled at his lips with mine, sucking on his, running my tongue along his mouth. He gave a groan of assent as I did so, and his fingers flicked across my nipples again, even as I pressed into his hands. Go on, I wanted to say, and knew he wouldn‘t understand. Touch me. He did, then, his mouth seeking mine with fierce abandon, his tongue plunging into my mouth in a hard, deep caress that made me dizzy. My brain glazed as his hands slid down to my buttocks and cupped them, dragging my hips to rest against his. The hard length of his erection nestled against my stomach. Oh, he was turned on, all right. My skin nearly scorched with the heat from his body. I rocked my hips against his, the water swishing around us, and pulled on the back of his neck, dragging his mouth closer to mine, as if I could devour the man whole if I tried hard enough. Damn, but he was a good kisser for a man on a deserted island. He jerked his hips against mine, his hardness straining against the junction of my thighs, and I quivered from head to toe, lost in that minute sensation, my pulse throbbing in time between my legs. My hands slid along his back, feeling the hard cords of muscle along his skin, marveling as his mouth made love to mine. His lips slid away from mine, pressing kisses along my collarbone and causing gooseflesh to erupt across my body. I tilted my head back in pleasure, my fingers curling against his shoulders to show him that I liked it, even as soft, ridiculous noises of pleasure erupted from my throat.

Then, his mouth dropped to my breasts and my body exploded. Salvador‘s lips latched onto the peak of one breast, and I was unable to resist the shuddering moan that escaped me. His tongue flicked hard against my sensitive nipple, then he sucked, lapping at my skin. When his hand slid to my other breast and began to imitate the actions of his mouth, my low moans became throbbing pants. His mouth lavished attention on my nipples, then slid lower, until his mouth hovered near the waterline, all too near my belly-button. Salvador‘s hands slid down to my hips, kneading them as if that small action could part them with a thought, and pressed his forehead against my belly. ―Diana,‖ he said against my flesh, licking at my navel, his voice the raspy, low accent that caused new shivers to course up and down my skin. He murmured something else, low and soft in Spanish. I didn‘t know what he said, but lord, it sounded sexy. I wrapped my fingers in his wet hair as he hovered near my hips. Just a few inches lower, and paradise. I wondered how long he could hold his breath, then blushed at the thought. Salvador‘s body tensed against mine, as if sensing my thoughts, and he stood. Change of plans? Oh, well, that was okay, as long as he continued to kiss me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my breasts against his chest, leaning in for another intoxicating kiss. Instead, his mouth thinned into a hard line and he pulled away from me, detangling himself from my arms and heading towards the bank of the small pool. Stunned, I froze in place. What exactly had just happened? As a modern girl, I expected sex to be interrupted for a condom-search, of course, so I waited in the water for

a moment longer before panicking. Not that they had condoms on this island, but surely he wasn‘t turning me down…was he? At the shore‘s edge, his bronze body moved out of the water and Salvador began to dress, not bothering to glance back at me. Ouch. He was turning me down. Humiliation washed over me. My face ached with the embarrassed smile I pasted to my lips, and I drew my wet hair forward, trying vainly to cover my breasts. When that didn‘t work, I slid lower into the water and headed for the concealing shore, looking for my bikini. How embarrassing. Had I misinterpreted all those signals that Salvador had been tossing my way? I snuck a quick glance at him as I dressed, peeping out of the corner of my lashes. He‘d dressed as well, and while the bulge in his loincloth was still apparent (and rather breathtaking, I might add), he was ignoring me. I didn‘t understand it. It stung. A lot. I finished dressing and wrung my hair out, then sat on the grass nearby, examining my feet and trying to look unconcerned with the fact that he‘d just slapped me in the face. So to speak. My feet were pretty torn up. I winced just at looking at them. The undersides were bruised, every inch was scratched and what wasn‘t callused was pretty much tenderized. No wonder it hurt to walk. The cut on the bottom of my foot was upraised and reddened, and probably needed another cleaning. I winced at it and laid my foot back down in the grass. It hadn‘t hurt until I looked at it, and now that I had, it throbbed. Figured.

I fought back a watery sniff and tried not to feel sorry for myself. Not only did my feet look like meatloaf, but the sexiest guy on the island wasn‘t even going to have sex with me, the sexiest girl on the island. Only girl on the island. That kind of hurt. I glanced over at Salvador, intending to give him a hateful glare and show him that he‘d hurt my feelings, but when I looked over, he wasn‘t there. I was alone. I sat up, alarm coursing through me. ―Er, Salvador?‖ To my relief, he appeared a moment later, standing about fifty feet away between some of the underbrush. He made the motion for quiet, then gestured that I should come to him. I did so, getting to my feet and wincing when my cut flesh smacked against the rough tangle of the jungle floor. That’s what I get for looking at my wounds, I thought wryly, and hobbled the few steps toward him, trying to look dignified and failing miserably. He frowned at my tiny, mincing steps, and within moments, he was at my side. ―It‘s just a scratch,‖ I protested as he bent over, presumably to yank my foot up and examine it. Instead, however, he picked up a handful of the mud at our feet and stood again, brushing the wet hair off my forehead. I slapped his hand away, but he would not be deterred, and after a few moments of this slapping, he gave me an irritated glare and commanded something in Spanish that I didn‘t understand. The meaning was clear enough: Stop it. I did, and within moments, he‘d drawn three long, muddy lines across my forehead, and I frowned at him, raising a hand to wipe them away. ―I just got clean, you idiot.‖

For some reason, his touch to my forehead made me think of the fever dreams I‘d had when stranded in the airplane, just before the cavemen had found me. I‘d dreamed about Salvador—dreamed of him brushing mud on my forehead. What did it mean? He pushed my hand aside and shook his head, pointing at his own forehead, where I saw three long, white scars that carved through his skin. Most of the time those scars were covered by his longish hair, but when he pointed it out to me, I realized that my mud-markings were supposed to resemble his. ―I don‘t understand,‖ I said. ―What‘s this for?‖ Of course, my words had no response forthcoming. Tarzan grabbed me by the hips and swung me back over his shoulder again like your typical captive girl and began to head off through the forest before I had time to even blink. This time, I protested only slightly, and gave his back no more than a half-hearted thump. I couldn‘t walk, and we both knew it. I gave his shoulder-blade a rough, irritated pinch anyhow. He ignored my efforts, resting a possessive hand on the soft flesh of my upper thigh that distracted me into silence. And we were off back into the woods again, as if the interlude at the falls had never happened. But I couldn‘t stop playing the scene back in my mind, over and over again, wondering what had gone wrong.

#

I must have drowsed off at some point. I awoke sharply when a voice called out loud

and clear from nearby. Salvador gave my sky-facing rump a playful slap to wake me up. ―Diana,‖ he said. I jerked against him, my drowsy stupor disappearing and replaced by a wary jangling of nerves. ―What‘s going on?‖ I demanded. ―Put me down.‖ To my surprise, he did, sliding me off his shoulder. I rocked back on my feet, wincing at the sensation as I adjusted to my surroundings. The scent of water no longer filled the air, which meant that we‘d left the waterfall behind some time ago. The plants here were tall and looming like the rest of the jungle, but at the base of the cliff wall, I noticed they grew smaller and in some sort of order. As I wrinkled my brow and looked at Salvador in curiosity, wondering where he‘d taken me, something long and pale snaked across the cliff-surface to my side. A snake! I instinctively jumped at the sight, my arms flinging around Salvador in fright without realizing what I was doing. His easy chuckle of laughter and the way his hands slid possessively around my waist made me realize that I‘d over-reacted. I opened my eyes—when had I squeezed them shut?—and realized that the ‗snake‘ was in all actuality a ladder. A rope ladder. My eyes went up the cliff, my gaze following the rope ladder. It rose about twenty feet, and it started at the lip of a ledge dug into the rock itself through weather and time. Above the lip of the rock, I could see crude mud brickwork, and a thick layer of crosshatched palm leaves that made some sort of rain covering that angled over the cave itself. And over the edge of the ledge, three anxious, curious faces stared down at us. I

couldn‘t make out their faces, haloed by the sun high in the sky behind them. I swallowed my gasp of surprise and looked at Salvador. ―Survivors? More survivors?‖ I wondered if the stewardess or Mr. Wingarde was somewhere in this small group, then cast that thought aside. Unless they‘d managed to make their way through the treacherous inland without a guide like Salvador, I doubted it. Seeing that there were other survivors gave me hope, though, and frightened me as well. How long had they been here? Was anyone looking for their rescue? Salvador pried my arms off his neck and gestured at the rope ladder. Embarrassed that I was still clinging to him, I pulled away and moved toward the ladder. The rope was cleverly set up, made of old rigging and bits of fabric, and reinforced by what seemed to be long, fibrous vines that had been bleached of nearly all color. I gave it a cautious tug and then began to climb. Who were the mysterious strangers? I wondered if it would be three men, all as has Salvador was, and my pulse hammered in my throat nervously, and I nearly slipped on the rungs. Beneath me, I felt Salvador‘s hot hand slide up my thigh, trying to brace me if I fell. I swatted it away and resumed my climb, flustered. When I neared the top of the ladder, strong hands reached out to help me up the last few feet, and just like that, I was hoisted into my new home, facing the three other inhabitants of the cave. What I saw surprised me. An old man stood the closest to me, long, tattered beard crawling down his face and neck, and he was dressed in rags and seemed so frail that I thought he might keel over and die at any moment. But he smiled at me, showing a set of crooked, yellow gappy

teeth and a pleasant disposition, and I relaxed. Behind him was a girl, with hair the elusive color between blonde and brown, a smatter of freckles on her face. She wore a dingy sack dress that might have been a color other than grey, once upon a time, and couldn‘t have been more than twelve. She looked to be about my height, but her body was reed thin with youth, and no curves. At her side was the third castaway, a man probably a year or so younger than me— early twenties or so. His face was clean-shaven and his hair a darker shade of the girl‘s, and it was obvious from his round face that matched hers that they were siblings. He put a protective hand over her shoulders, and he wore more clothing than Salvador did, his shirt sleeves tattered and hanging off his frame, dingy with age but patched repeatedly. His pants were torn at mid-thigh, and on his feet I could see the remains of what had probably once been a sturdy pair of boots. He watched me with an unnerving amount of interest—hunger mixed with anger. I gave the three of them a half-hearted wave and took a step back, careful not to get too close to the edge. ―Hi,‖ I said, wondering at the motley crew. ―I‘m Diana.‖ The small cave was silent. I watched as the girl glanced between the men, her hands calmly clasped before her. I waited for someone to say something—anything. Had I done something wrong? The looks on their faces were grave. I felt a large presence come up behind me, and knew without glancing over that it was Salvador; the hand that looped casually around my waist was evidence enough. This easy gesture was enough to break the silence, and send the younger man into a rage. He left his sister‘s side and came to ours. ―What do you think you‘re doing?‖ His voice rose an angry octave, and I was surprised to hear the thick British accent.

―Doing?‖ I said, hunching closer to Salvador in the light of his anger. I hadn‘t expected this. ―I uh...‖ ―Not you,‖ he said, imperiously cutting me off. ―Him. What is it you‘re doing, Salvador? Do you want to start a war with the ape-men?‖ ―Eustace,‖ said the young girl. She took a step forward, wringing her hands in a delicate fashion. ―I really don‘t think this is –― He cut her off with another angry gesture. ―Stay out of this, Olivia. Salvador knows the rules as well as anyone here. He knows that the wreckage on the south beaches belong to the ape-men, and anything on the north beaches belongs to us. The fact that he deliberately ignored our hard-won truce means that he intends for all of us to die here on this island at the hands of those vile creatures.‖ I turned to Salvador, then realized he didn‘t understand the conversation. The man— Eustace—was railing at him for nothing. ―I don‘t understand what‘s going on, I‘m afraid. Salvador saved me from the T-Rex and brought me here.‖ ―T-Rex?‖ The old man‘s brow wrinkled. ―Big dinosaur? Itty bitty arms? Big teeth? Likes to eat people?‖ His blank look didn‘t ease until I mentioned the teeth, and then his face cleared. ―Ah, one of the terrible lizards. Yes, we know of that one.‖ His accent was English as well. ―It doesn‘t matter. If you were on the south beach, you belong to the cavemen.‖ I echoed, looking to the other two, then back at Salvador. ―You mean, you guys have a deal with the cavemen?‖ It explained their anger at Salvador for showing up with me here. ―Did your craft land on the south beach?‖ Eustace was in my face again, grabbing me

by the arm and trying to pry me away from Salvador. I stumbled at the rough gesture and fell to my knees. ―Hey,‖ I protested. The words died in my throat at Salvador‘s low growl. He flung Eustace backward with a sudden, violent motion, and then moved back to my side, helping me back to my feet. Eustace would not be deterred. ―If she landed on the south beach,‖ he said, pointing at me as he got back to his feet, ―you are invoking war with the others by stealing her out from under them. Do they know she exists?‖ The girl interrupted again, uncomfortable. ―Eustace–‖ ―Do they?‖ Eustace‘s voice raised into a shout. I could feel Salvador‘s fingers tighten on my waist, and sensed things were about to get ugly, fast. I raised my hands, trying to calm Eustace down. ―The cavemen know I‘m here, yes. And it‘s no good screaming at Salvador, since he doesn‘t speak English.‖

All eyes turned to me. ―What did you say?‖ Eustace gave me a perplexed look. ―I said that Salvador doesn‘t speak English,‖ I began again, and stopped when the young girl frowned. ―But of course he does,‖ she said, her pale brows knitting together. ―He speaks the King‘s English as well as you or I. How else would we communicate with him?‖ I turned to Salvador in surprise, but all I got from him was a stony, expressionless look. It didn‘t matter; the truth had outed itself. ―You...speak...English?‖ I thought of all

those hours I‘d spent, chattering to myself, thankful that he couldn‘t understand me. I thought of all the times when a nice explanation would have helped so much, or a few comforting words. And I‘d gotten silence. Not because the man couldn‘t speak, but because he didn‘t want to speak to me. ―You bastard,‖ I said, my angry voice echoing in the low cave. I swung my hand, trying to punch him in the gut. ―You lying sack of—― He caught my hand in his own before I could do any harm, and brilliant green eyes gazed down at me, cat-like and glittering with anger. ―We need to talk, you and I.‖ And just like that, he slung me over his shoulder again and headed deeper into the caves, ignoring my protests and that of the others.

Chapter Seven

Fist pummeling did nothing. Incoherent screams of rage did nothing. Even biting, kicking, scratching—none of this persuaded Salvador to let me go until he‘d reached the back of the cave. I heard him draw aside a heavy cloth of some sort, and then we moved into darkness. I smothered a gasp of fright as the world around us plunged into black, and then Salvador lifted me off his shoulder and set me down on a warm jumble of furs on the floor. His gentle fingers brushed my cheek. ―Wait here.‖ As I watched, Salvador raised the flap and stepped back out of the small, private pocket of the cave and left me alone. Feeling huffy and a bit abused, I sat up on the pile of furs and debated going after him. What if this room wasn‘t safe? What if one of those cavemen were nearby? What if there were more caterpillars the size of my arm? What if rabid Eustace came after me and decided he wasn‘t going to take ‗no‘ for an answer? Salvador returned a moment later, calming my fears. In his hands, he held a rickety lantern, the lit wick giving off a faint, flickering light. The faint scent of smoke and coconut wafted into the room as he put the lantern down on a small, crude table and crouched next to me. ―Well?‖ he said.

I looked around the room, now that we had some light. It was as clean as the rest of the small cave—no moss growing on the walls, no dirty animal remains or leaves or anything in the corners. It was almost like a stone house—was like a stone house, I amended, thinking of the palm-leaf roof and the mud brick protecting the ledge. I stared up at the smooth rock walls in wonder. Something had been written along one wall, in a flowing, curlicued script that I didn‘t recognize. A neat pile of belongings lay in the far corner—I recognized a spear and another large bundle of furs. To my side was a crude wooden stool, a few other scattered belongings, and a small, warped wooden chest that had seen better years. Across the door was a heavy curtain of leather, making this a private room inasmuch as one could have in a cave. To the side was more strange writing, and a series of hash-marks on the wall. The soft furs beneath my legs, I realized, were blankets and bedding, and I flushed as I realized I was sprawled in the middle of Salvador‘s bed. Realizing at last that he was waiting for me to speak, I raised my chin defensively. ―Well what? You‘re the one that dragged me in here.‖ He gave an easy, leonine shrug. ―You are upset.‖ I was momentarily fascinated by the beautiful way that he mispronounced my language. Swallowed consonants and over-exaggerated syllables had never sounded quite so sensual. Forcing myself to concentrate on his words rather than his voice, I found my frown and gave him the full-force blast of my glare. ―Upset? Upset?‖ I laughed, the sound coming out echoing and shrill in the small room. ―Why would I be upset? I mean, here I am, stranded on a deserted island and I‘m rescued by some man who doesn‘t bother to tell me that he speaks English? And so I‘ve been mucking about for two days,

trying to communicate with him and failing miserably? And I‘m thinking of all the times when a quick ―No, Diana‖ or ―It‘s ok, Diana,‖ or ―How are you feeling, Diana,‖ or maybe even ―There are other survivors, Diana‖ would have felt damn good, but you couldn‘t do that for me, could you. You couldn‘t be bothered–‖ ―Diana,‖ he said. ―You have to understand—― I fisted my hands in the blankets. ―No,‖ I ground out. ―I don‘t have to understand. There‘s nothing to understand. You were being a selfish bastard.‖ His expression darkened in the shadows, and I watched the corners of his mouth tighten. Good, I was getting to him. Maybe he‘d start to feel an ounce of the betrayal I felt right now. Strangely enough, his unhappiness didn‘t make me feel any better, just worse. ―You‘re a bastard,‖ I repeated, my hands fisting roughly in the furs. He slunk down close to me and I instinctively shied away. Within two steps, he was in my face, his breath hovering caressing mine, his dark eyes searching my face. ―The others can hear your shouting,‖ he said. ―I brought you in here for some privacy.‖ ―Let them hear me shout,‖ I bellowed. ―Let them know how fucking pissed off I am at you—― Before I could finish my sentence, his hand was on my chin, grasping my mouth. I stiffened, thinking that he was going to shut me up physically. Instead, his mouth swooped over mine. I stood in silence, surprised as his tongue swept against my lips, coaxing my mouth open. And when I opened for him, stroked suggestively against my tongue, conquering my arguments with the playful caress. This was not the soft, featherlight kiss of before. This was a kiss to claim, to put down stakes. This was Salvador

branding me as his. And I was all for it. My hands, previously fisted in the blankets, uncurled and wrapped around his neck. I moaned into his mouth as he gently sucked on my lower lip. ―You have the sweetest tongue,‖ he whispered against my skin, the words so thickly accented that I had a hard time understanding what he was saying. His softly murmured spanish words were drowned out by my frantically beating heart. There was nothing outside of this cave, nothing in the world except his hot, hungry mouth on mine, the feel of his skin pressed against my own, and the soft flickers of light that cast shadows over our bodies. Salvador‘s hand slid over my breast, and my brain immediately flashed back to the waterfall, remembering the delicious things he‘d done to me there, and I drew in a ragged breath. ―Say that you‘re mine,‖ he whispered against my skin. That threw a bit of cold water over the flames of ardor. I pushed at him with my hands and turned my face away. What was with the people on this island wanting to own someone? Jeezus. ―I don‘t belong to anyone,‖ I gritted out, trying to shove him off of me. ―You heard the woman,‖ said a calm, rich English voice behind us, and both of us turned to stare at the figure that loomed at the curtain. Eustace had pulled it back and was staring down at the two of us, entwined in Salvador‘s furs, with hot, wild eyes. ―She doesn‘t belong to you. Let her go.‖ I heard the angry rumble in Salvador‘s throat. He leapt off of me, pulling himself up to his full height in the small doorway. His face loomed too close to Eustace‘s. ―She is mine.‖ Salvador‘s voice was low and deadly with menace. ―Then I will challenge you for her,‖ the Englishman shouted in his face, then turned

on his heel and marched away. ―So be it.‖ Salvador disappeared behind the curtain. I was left alone in his room, blinking in surprise. Fight? Over me? Were they serious? I heard the young girl scream, and I bolted out of the bed. ―Wait,‖ I called, shoving my way out of the room and back toward the sunlit main portion of the cave. ―This is ridiculous. Nobody should be fighting over anything, least of all me!‖ The two men were in the middle of the main cave, circling each other. Eustace had his fists pulled close to his face, an obvious boxing move. Salvador did not, but the way he carried himself made me think that he was the more deadly of the two. Off to the side, the girl stood nearby, crying, and the old man clung to her. Both of them gave me accusing looks when I emerged. I wanted to cry, too. I hadn‘t even been at the cave for five minutes before I‘d managed to somehow ruin everything. The sound of a fist hitting flesh and a male groan made me snap to attention. Eustace had gotten a good hit on Salvador, right in the eye, and he staggered backward. I gasped despite myself, then clenched my hands into fists, fingernails digging into my palms as Salvador grabbed Eustace by the waist and bore him to the ground, knocking the air out of his opponent. The girl turned her face away, unable to watch. ―Selfish oaf,‖ Eustace shouted at Salvador. ―You have to take everything for yourself, don‘t you? You can‘t share, can you?‖ He swung wildly.

―Share?‖ I squeaked in outrage. What the hell was this ‗sharing‘ crap? Salvador dodged his punch easily, sliding over to one side and tensing, avoiding the next blow. ―She is my woman, not yours. I found her.‖ The menace in his growl was fiercely possessive. ―She is mine.‖ ―I don‘t belong to anyone,‖ I protested, but nobody was listening. ―She‘s the first woman on this island that we‘ve seen,‖ Eustace shouted, his voice hoarse. ―She should be mine by all rights. Take my sister, if you must have a woman.‖ ―Your sister is like my own sister,‖ Salvador said, ducking another one of Eustace‘s wild swings and punching him in the gut. ―Diana belongs to me.‖ ―Not if I win,‖ Eustace roared. ―Then you can take my sister, if you must.‖ I looked over at the sister in question, wondering how she liked this casual bartering of flesh. She hugged the old man, a pained frown on her face. I didn‘t know if it was from the fight or from the conversation, but I felt instantly sorry for her. Her brother was an ass. Another thought occurred to me as Eustace landed a solid right-hook and Salvador staggered backward. What if Salvador lost? What if I was handed over to the new guy? Eustace was a stranger to me, and it was obvious what his intentions were. The thought chilled me. I liked the thought of kissing Salvador, maybe even sleeping with him. I was undeniably attracted to him. Eustace? Not so much. Within moments, it was clear that my worry was for nothing. Salvador had the upper hand in the fight, clearly more skilled than his opponent. With every one of Eustace‘s hits, Salvador returned it harder. For every gut punch that Eustace landed, Salvador

knocked him to the ground. Within minutes, both men were bleeding and panting. Salvador looked merely cold with possessive rage, while Eustace looked exhausted, his face mottled red from anger and exertion. Time passed, and they began to slow and circle each other. It looked like the ideal time to step in and stop this crap. I shoved in between the two men, arms outstretched. ―This needs to stop right—― I missed the fact that Eustace had been pulling his hand back to lunge at Salvador again, and Salvador‘s bellow of anger came a second too late. Eustace‘s fist connected with my chin. My jaw exploded with pain. I staggered backward, stumbling to the ground and clutching my throbbing face. That stopped the fight, all right. Eustace stood over me, chagrined. He moved aside as Salvador crouched next to me, feeling my jaw with gentle, possessive fingers. His gaze searched my face, as if needing to confirm for himself that I was all right. I winced at the gentle touch of his fingers in the soft spot and turned my face away, not wanting to see either one of them. My head still rung and throbbed, stars danced at the edge of my vision. Salvador‘s angry roar made me wince. I squeezed my eyes shut, and missed what happened next. The angry slap of a fist on flesh made my eyes fly open, and I watched, dazed, as Salvador pummeled the weaker man. I crawled over to his side, shoving at Salvador. ―Stop it!‖ I yelled. ―Stop it!‖ I wrapped both of my hands around his arm, trying to pull him back and fully expecting to get an elbow in the face for my efforts.

To my surprise, he stopped, jerking his body around, careful not to hit me. Salvador touched my cheek, all his concern focused on me again. I stared down at Eustace‘s bloody face, then at Salvador in disgust. ―How could you do such a thing?‖ Green eyes narrowed to slits. ―He hurt you.‖ ―Only because you were fighting him. I don‘t want you to kill anyone over me, you idiot!‖ I didn‘t realize I was yelling until I saw the young girl wince off to the side. ―What makes you think I want you? Either of you? Do you know what I want? Did you even ask?‖ ―What do you want, then?‖ Salvador‘s voice was thick with anger. I jabbed my thumb into my own chest. ―I...want...to go home.‖ I said, then burst into tears at the realization. ―I want to leave this goddamn place and never think about it again. Understand?‖ ―You can‘t go home. There is no way home.‖ Salvador‘s quiet words cut through me like a knife. I reached out and slapped him across the face. When his mouth tightened and he said nothing else, I burst into fresh tears and ran out of the room, heading for the privacy of his small cave where I could burrow under the blankets and have a good cry.

#

I expected Salvador to come back to his room at some point, to comfort me. I expected him to kiss away my tears, and say something to make me feel beautiful or

wanted. At worst, I expected him to come in and demand his rights as my new ‗owner‘. He did none of these things; in fact, he didn‘t show up at all, and that made me feel even worse. As I cried, I counted the hash-marks on the wall. 423 of them. The number meant nothing to me, but I wondered if it was how many days Salvador had been marooned here on this weird dinosaur island. That was more than a year. The thought of spending more than a year on this horrible island made me feel even sorrier for myself. I cried myself to sleep in the mess of furs. I awoke sometime later, with the lantern blown out and my face feeling like a piece of raw meat. I lay in the darkness, wondering if I should stay in Salvador‘s small cave until someone came to talk to me—aka, hide from the world—or if I should find out what I could about the others. My bladder decided it for me. I had to pee something awful, and I hadn‘t seen anything that resembled a toilet in his small cave, so I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and got to my feet, and emerged from Salvador‘s room. Sunlight filtered in through the thick palm leaves at the front entrance, and I squinted at the light. At some point, someone had rolled back the palm ‗roof‘ to let the light stream into the cave area, and it felt very bright and warm. A fire was blazing in the center of the cave, and I saw three other leather hangings dotted around the corners of the large entrance room, which must have been where the others slept. It reminded me a bit of the Anasazi cliff dwellings that I‘d seen in a National Geographic once. The young girl was tending something over the fire. She looked over at me, her eyes red. ―Good morning.‖

She hadn‘t made it sound like it was a good morning. Her voice was clearly resentful. ―Hi,‖ I said, edging closer to the fire and noticing there was a slight damp chill in the air. ―Morning, you say?‖ She nodded, then went back to stirring the misshapen pot over the fire. ―You‘ve slept for quite a while.‖ ―Oh,‖ I said. No one else was around except her. ―Is there a bathroom somewhere?‖ She glanced over at me. ―Bathroom?‖ Oops. Did the British not use the word ‗bathroom‘? ―Um. Washroom? Lavatory? I have to, you know...‖ I made a gesture at my pelvis, not quite sure how else to communicate it. How embarrassing. ―Oh,‖ she said, then colored pink. ―There‘s a bucket behind the screen. Near the ledge.‖ She gestured at a leafy area of the cave-wall, near the front. ―Once you‘re done with it, toss the waste into the pit below.‖ Bucket? Screen? How un-private. I wrinkled my nose and hurried over. Sure enough, there was a very crude bucket, and a stack of clean leaves for obvious purposes. I used it as quickly as I could and dumped it over the side, wishing for a real bathroom. Something with more than just a screen, at the very least. My business done, I returned to the campfire and sat on one of the stools parked nearby. The girl made no attempt to talk to me, so I studied her as she stirred the crude cook-pot. She was young. Ten? Twelve? Her clothes were tattered and faded to the point that I couldn‘t tell what sort of make they were, and she wore a fairly long skirt for such a warm climate. Her hair was pulled tightly back into a bun, and a few wisps escaped to frame her face, curling around her ears.

―I‘m Diana,‖ I said when she noticed me staring. ―My name is Lady Olivia Smythe,‖ she said, her voice stiff. Lady? I didn‘t want to insult her by stating the question aloud, but it seemed an odd way to introduce herself. Maybe her brain was a little whacked out from being shipwrecked. Not that I blamed her. She didn‘t seem inclined to carry the conversation, so I tried another tactic. ―Eustace is your brother?‖ Olivia gave the pot a quick stir with a long handled wooden spoon. ―He is Lord Eustace Smythe, marquess of Langdon.‖ She blinked repeatedly, and I winced inwardly. I hoped I wasn‘t going to make her cry. ―Oh,‖ I said, feeling awkward. ―I don‘t have a title, I‘m afraid.‖ ―You‘re common, then?‖ Her eyes raised to meet mine. ―You sound as if you‘re from the colonies.‖ ―I‘m American, yeah.‖ Whatever she was cooking smelled wonderful, and my stomach growled. ―That smells great, whatever it is.‖ She flushed a little, clearly pleased at my appreciation. ―Stewed lizard and some lemongrass. It‘s quite good once you get used to it.‖ ―It smells wonderful.‖ I didn‘t want to think about the lizard part too much, but if she was going to eat it, well, so was I. She warmed to me a little at that, and I saw the hard edges leave her mouth, and she even smiled. ―Would you like a bowl?‖ I nodded eagerly and she left the fire briefly, heading over to the far wall and plucking something metal and shiny off of a natural shelf in the stone. She flipped it in

her hands and brought it to the fire, swaddling the base of it in ragged fabric. ―It will be hot, so be careful that you do not burn yourself.‖ When the odd bowl was filled, she handed it to me and produced another, smaller wooden spoon for me to eat with. I poked at the soup cautiously for a moment, examining it. Bits of pale meat floated in the thin broth, some greens mixed in. The bowl was hot even through the fabric, and I was careful not to let the wide metal lip touch my bare legs. The first bite was pure heaven. I took another larger bite, nearly burning the roof off my mouth in the process, but I felt like I couldn‘t get enough into my stomach fast enough. ―It‘s wonderful,‖ I said to her between bites. She beamed with pleasure, then got herself a bowl and sat across from me on another stool, eating. As we ate, I counted the stools—four in all. So there were only four castaways here in the cave, five if you counted me. But all of the men were missing, and it was just myself and Olivia at the fire. I finished my food, scraped the bowl with my spoon, and wondered at the odd seam that went down the middle of the metal bowl, cutting across the diameter. It seemed an odd place to put a seam, and I unwrapped it and examined it. A helmet. A conquistador helmet. I blinked in surprise. ―Where did you get this?‖ She shrugged. ―Salvador.‖ ―Speaking of, where are all the men this morning?‖ I tried to make my question sound as innocent as possible. Her small face closed up on me again at that. ―Harold is sleeping late, because he is old and unwell. Salvador went hunting. Eustace...he left.‖ I couldn‘t ignore the sourness in her voice. ―Left?‖

She gave a watery sniff and bent her head over her soup-bowl-helmet. ―He‘s gone.‖ Olivia rubbed a hand across her face in a childlike motion. ―He said he‘d be back later when he‘s had time to...think about things. He‘s never left me alone here before.‖ ―I‘m sorry.‖ What did I say to the kid after she‘d just been abandoned by her brother and left stuck with me? ―I, uh, really didn‘t want them to fight over me.‖ ―Well, what did you expect?‖ She said tearfully. ―They‘ve been stranded here for so long with no women, and then here you come sauntering in with no clothing on your body, and talking filthy, and you‘re so pretty, of course they‘re going to fight over you.‖ My back stiffened and I frowned at her. This was going a little far. ―No clothes? Talking filthy?‖ Well, I did call Salvador a bastard a few times, but jeez. Olivia was really damn sheltered if she thought I was a potty mouth. Of course, she was only twelve or so, and she‘d been stranded on this island for some time. Still, I stuck with my guns. ―I‘m wearing a bikini.‖ ―A what?‖ Now I was starting to get annoyed with her. My bikini was actually pretty modest as far as swim-wear went. It was a two-piece sport bikini, nothing sleazy, so I was starting to get offended by the fact that she thought I was some huge skank. ―You‘ll have to forgive me if I lost the rest of my clothing when the dinosaurs tried to eat me.‖ She gave a watery sniff. ―The terrible lizards? They attacked you?‖ ―Yeah, the T-rex nearly ate me at one point. I had to hide in the plane for a long time. That‘s how Salvador found me. He saved me from the cavemen.‖ Olivia shuddered. ―They‘re rather vile, aren‘t they? I‘ve only seen them a few times—both Salvador and Eustace try to keep me sheltered here in the cave.‖

I could guess why. If the cavemen were hot to trot for a big amazon like me, I had no doubt that Bgha and his crew would find Olivia‘s petite—although young—form a nice treat. ―It‘s nice of them to take care of you,‖ I ventured. Her face hardened. ―They treat me like I‘m a child.‖ She stood and extended one hand for my empty bowl. ―We‘ll clean up here, get Harold settled, and then we‘ll find some proper clothing for you.‖ I handed her my bowl and watched as she bustled around the small cave, rinsing out the bowls, giving the remainder of the stew a good stir, and then heading over to one of the nooks and waking the elderly Harold. Watching her, one could easily see how she would resent being thought of as a child, when she was clearly the one running the house here. Harold stumbled over to the fire with Olivia‘s help, his arms shaking with frailty, and I felt immediately sorry for him. He needed a doctor—his face was drawn and thin, and covered with myriad wrinkles under the white puff of beard. I wondered how old he was, and how long he‘d been here. ―Did you all come from the same wreck?‖ I asked. ―The same plane?‖ Harold shook his head at me and smiled, showing a few crooked, yellow teeth. ―A shipwreck for me, mistress. All three of us came from ships.‖ His voice rattled in his throat so much that I was afraid he‘d gasp his last breath at the end of every sentence.

―Oh,‖ I said, and watched as Olivia fed Harold. ―We‘re going to find some clothing for Diana,‖ she said, patting the old man on his shoulder and fussing over him like a daughter. ―We‘ll be back shortly. Stay here and tend

the fire for us?‖ At Harold‘s nod, Olivia rose in an elegant gesture, and inclined her head. ―If you‘ll follow me, please?‖ I smiled at the queenly motion, feeling the absurd urge to curtsy. Olivia led me to a small storage nook in the back of the cave, and to my surprise, there was a treasure-trove of things stuffed in there. ―Most of the things we‘ve found washed up on the beach from wrecks such as your own,‖ she explained, digging through a series of crates and pulling items out. ―Some of it we can‘t use, but don‘t have the heart to throw away. Some of it we can‘t make out. So we keep it all.‖ She glanced back at me. ―We have an agreement with the cavemen—because they used to fight us over what washed up—that everything on the north beach is ours, and the south beach is theirs. That is why they were so upset that Salvador took you—he took you from their territory.‖ ―But I‘m a person,‖ I protested. ―You can‘t own someone.‖ ―Of course you can,‖ she said easily. ―On this island, people are possessions just as surely as anything else, and women are a valuable commodity. If you can‘t protect yourself, you‘re better off under someone else‘s protection.‖ She turned back to give me a wistful look, her arms full of faded fabric. ―You‘re lucky that Salvador wants you. He‘s the strongest man on the island.‖ I eyed the trunks as she shoved past me with the armful of fabric. ―I don‘t suppose there‘s a radio shoved away somewhere in here?‖ I wanted to stay and look at things. I picked up a small compass and frowned down at it as the needle spun in circles on its own. Well, that wouldn‘t do me much good. I walked past a massive sword, still in its scabbard, and peeked at another pile of discarded things. There had to be something

useful in the storage room. ―Maybe a transistor of sorts?‖ ―A what?‖ she called back mildly to me. ―Come out here to the light and pick out something.‖ ―Never mind,‖ I said under my breath, making a mental note to go and dig through everything later. Another day wouldn‘t hurt anything. Olivia began to spread the clothing out near the front of the cave—where the sunlight was brightest—and I watched as she picked through them with gentle hands. ―I would only pick out one or two things,‖ she said. ―We can use those until they wear out, and then once they‘re completely done-for, we can go back for something else.‖ She glanced over at me. ―It‘s stingy, I know, but we have to make things last.‖ ―That‘s fine,‖ I said, not wanting to bother her about it. I didn‘t care as long as it was clean. She gestured to a pretty, lacy dress with a high collar and long, tight sleeves. ―Something like this would be acceptable, perhaps.‖ I eyed it with distaste. ―Won‘t that be hot?‖ Olivia shrugged. ―A lady must be modest or she incites men to think bad things about her.‖ She gave me a pointed look. Geez, that wasn‘t obvious of her at all. I ignored her little comment and dug through the clothing a bit longer. I found a coral-colored blouse of sorts that had one sleeve ripped off—I ripped the other off to make it match, despite Olivia‘s horrified look. It went nearly perfect with a long, flowing skirt of white. ―This‘ll do for me for starters.‖ Olivia gave me a traumatized look. ―That is a petticoat. You have to wear something over it.‖

I frowned at her. ―It‘s too hot to wear something over it, though I wouldn‘t mind something under it.‖ I gestured at the clothing, noticing the sad lack of undergarments. ―No bras or underwear or even a clean swimsuit?‖ She shook her head, mystified at me, and I sighed. Well, at least most of the men were gone and I could go around loosey-goosey until my bikini was clean and dried. ―I‘ll go change, then.‖ I used Salvador‘s room as a dressing-room and when I emerged, dressed in my new clothing, I felt like a different person. My grimy swimsuit was huddled into a ball in my hand, and the new clothes felt wonderfully clean against my skin, even if I felt every bit as scandalous as the looks that Olivia was giving me. My breasts swayed under the thin fabric of the blouse, and I hoped nobody could see through my dang skirt. ―Is this better?‖ ―I suppose,‖ Olivia said dubiously. I glanced over at Harold and watched him as he took another slow bite of soup, staring into the fire. I didn‘t quite know what to do with myself. It felt odd to not be on the run for the first time in days, and I moved to sit back down on the stool I‘d claimed as my own. Olivia washed the helmets as they were emptied, and placed them back on the stone nook on the wall. There were three of them, I noticed, and one rudely carved wooden bowl. I drank a cup of water (made out of a half-coconut) as I watched her sit down by the fire and used a carved wooden needle to sew shut a hole in a ragged looking garment that I would have normally thrown away. I noticed her own equally ragged clothing, and felt a bit humbled as I sat there in my new, clean clothing while she wore rags.

And then I thought of Salvador‘s loincloth and blushed. He didn‘t even bother with the clothing. The comfortable silence went on for some time. Olivia mended, Harold ate quietly, his hands shaking with every lift of the spoon, and I sat and watched the fire and drowsed, thinking about my journey here. I thought about the wreckage, the half-eaten pilot on the beach. I even thought about the footsteps in the sand and wondered why that image still bothered me. When the sun was high in the sky, Olivia got up to roll the palm-covering back over the cave, setting everything into cool shade and shielding us from the heat of the day. Harold wasn‘t much of a talker; he headed back to his small cave and slept the afternoon away, and Olivia continued her mending. I noticed she was piecing the rags together to make a crude blanket of sorts. I was surprised when a sound came from the lip of the cave, and I stood up in anticipation. Salvador climbed up the rope ladder, tossing a few small animal carcasses down on the ledge. ―Welcome back,‖ Olivia cried out, rushing over to him. ―Is Eustace with you?‖ She looked eagerly over the edge of the ledge and I watched her mobile face fall a little when she did not see him. ―He will be back eventually, Olivia. Do not worry for him.‖ Salvador reached over and tousled the girl‘s head, and I watched the adoring look she gave him. She had a crush on the man, that was obvious. Not that I blamed her. Hell, I had a bit of a crush on him myself, and it wasn‘t at all girlish. It was a dirty, nasty, flustered sort of crush that involved lots of daydreamed sex.

He glanced around the cave, looking for someone in particular, and when his gaze slid to me, he stopped, and I watched as his eyes roamed over my newly-covered form possessively. My nipples hardened at the look on his face, and I crossed my arms over my chest, hoping he wouldn‘t notice them poking through the thin fabric. ―Hello Salvador,‖ I said, forcing my voice to be cool and nonchalant. He strode over to me and I bristled, wondering if he was going to toss me over his shoulder again and drag me to his room. I hated how my body flushed with desire at the thought, too. I took a step backward as he approached, then paused, mindful of the fire and my flowing skirt. To my surprise, he reached out and gently touched my face, the edge of my cheek where it still stung at the slightest touch and felt puffy. ―How are you feeling?‖ Just those simple, softly accented words were enough to make my knees liquefy. I pulled away from his hand, noticing that his own eye was puffed up and swollen from where Eustace had gotten him good. ―I‘m fine. Your eye...‖ He shrugged. ―It is well enough.‖ His hand slid from my face to my bare arm. Olivia stood behind us, and cleared her throat, and when I looked over, she clutched the brace of rabbit-looking creatures in her arms like they were the only thing saving her from flinging herself bodily over the cliff. ―I‘ll start on dinner while we wait for Eustace to return.‖ She hurried to the far end of the cave and I could hear her rummaging in the small trunk that they kept the wooden utensils in. ―Eustace is coming back?‖ I glanced over at the bronzed Spaniard. Salvador gave me a meaningful look. ―Eventually. She is merely hoping that he will return soon. I do not think he will return for weeks, if that.‖

―Will he be all right?‖ Salvador grunted. ―He will survive.‖ I felt guilty that he was gone, and it was my fault. Poor Olivia. ―Maybe I should help her with dinner,‖ I said, feeling uncomfortable to be standing so close to him. I glanced over to where Olivia stood, and watched as she used the knife to behead the kills. I heard the soft crunch of bones and winced, swallowing the revulsion. He chuckled at the expression on my face. ―I take it that you do not work in the kitchens, where you are from?‖ I wrinkled my nose with distaste. ―Not hardly. I‘m a realtor.‖ He slid an easy hand around my waist. ―Shall we help her with dinner in another way? Perhaps to go and retrieve some fruits?‖ The funny, slightly stilted English had a way of endearing him to me, and I found myself smiling up at him. ―Sure, we can go get some fruits.‖ Salvador called out something to Olivia in Spanish, and I watched as her face fell slightly, but she nodded. We headed to the rope ladder, and Salvador went down first. ―To guard for you,‖ he explained. It was fine with me, and I watched his easy motions as he went down the ladder first, and then I followed. My muscles protested in weariness as I went down the ladder, reminding me that I was not nearly in as good a shape as even slight Olivia. Still, I managed my way down— slowly—and we headed into the jungle. There was a dirt path near the cave, and Salvador led the way, and I followed close behind him. He was nearly silent as he moved through the underbrush; I, unfortunately, was noisy and stepped on just about everything in creation.

When I landed on a hard twig, it jabbed my foot. I cursed at the pain that shot through me, and Salvador turned in my direction. ―Your feet? They are still tender?‖ The way his lips caressed the word ‗tender‘ made me blush in the late evening sky. ―I‘m fine,‖ I said. ―Just not used to running around without shoes on. It‘ll take me a bit to toughen up.‖ At his speculative look, I decided to change the topic before he wanted to get up close and personal with my feet and check for himself. ―Are we close?‖ ―Here is fine,‖ he said, gesturing to the bushes. ―Let me show you.‖ I crept forward, and with his body leaning all too close to mine, he showed me how to brush aside the odd leaves of the short, squat plant and look for the small green fruit nestled at the base of each stem. I leaned over and plucked the one in reach. ―How many do we need?‖ I glanced over at him. His lips were perilously close to my ear, and judging by the fascinated look on his face, he hadn‘t been paying much attention to the fruit. ―How many do you think you will eat, encantadora?‖ I felt flushed and hot at the intense look on his face. ―Will you think me a pig if I say twenty?‖ He chuckled. ―If you eat twenty, I will indeed be surprised.‖ ―Prepare to be astonished, then,‖ I said dryly. ―I‘ve been so hungry lately I could eat my own shirt.‖ His hands slid around my waist, feeling the soft, ticklish skin and sending abrupt shivers through my body. ―The material is thin, belleza, and would not make much of a meal.‖ I felt his hands snake around me, pulling me closer to his hot, hard body. His fingertips brushed the undersides of my breasts, so close to my nipples that they hardened

instantly, and the familiar ache started between my thighs. His breath lingered, hot and seductive on my throat. ―And then what would you wear?‖ I groaned, leaning back against his body and letting the sensations sweep over me. ―Don‘t touch me,‖ I said, feeling like a sham even as the words slipped out of my mouth, because I pressed up against his hard body and lifted my arm to twine my fingers in his hair. ―How can I see your beautiful body and not want to touch it?‖ His hands slid lower, grasping my hips through the thin material and sliding them against the hardness that strained against his loincloth. ―How can you dance before me and not allow me to touch you?‖ I whimpered against him, arching my neck when his lips pressed against my skin. His hands slid up to cup my breasts, loose and straining in the thin shirt, and I felt him groan against me. ―Belleza, Diana,‖ he whispered. ―Tell me you want this too.‖ His fingertips brushed against my nipples and shockwaves floated through my body, rippling outward and making my toes curl. The fruit dropped to the forest floor and I panted as he pressed his body against mine, erection straining against my buttocks. The man felt like a dream. Abruptly, the image of us in the waterfall filtered through my mind, and I remembered how quick he‘d been to leave me then. Back when he‘d been pretending not to speak English, rather than whispering sultry Spanish platitudes in my ear. It was like a splash of cold water in my face. I jerked away from him, pushing his hands off me. ―Stop it!‖ He groaned again, and when I turned to face him, he had a grim smile on his face.

―You try my patience, Diana.‖ ―Yeah, well, you try mine too, buddy. I‘m not your slave-girl, and you can‘t take me out into the woods for a quick tumble in the bushes.‖ I bent down to pick up the fallen fruit and brushed it off with my fingers. ―I don‘t know where you‘re from, but where I come from, we do things differently,‖ I said, bluffing. I desperately wanted to fling myself back into his arms, wrap my legs around that lean, tanned waist, and beg him to toss me down in the dirt and make my head spin, but I wouldn‘t do it. Wounded pride was a wonderful bolster to my courage. To my surprise, he seemed to take this to heart. ―How is it that your people claim a woman, then?‖ I snorted, straightening my blouse. ―We don‘t ‗claim‘ anyone. It‘s a mutual sort of choosing.‖ He shook his head. ―It is different here. I came from civilization once, but you learn to adapt. Here on the island, if you want something, you take it.‖ Salvador moved forward to embrace me again. I sidestepped him, barely managing to avoid his arms. ―But you forget, I‘ve only been here a few days,‖ I said, making my voice as sweet as possible. ―I‘m not yet used to being on this island. I‘m only familiar with what I know.‖ ―Then how would a man claim a woman, if he wished to have her as his mate?‖ There was an edge of polite annoyance in his voice and it made me smile, realizing he was humoring me. I thought for a moment as I reached into the bushes and plucked another one of the small green fruits. ―Well, I suppose that a man would move slow, first of all. He wouldn‘t

put his hands all over her...breasts...every time he was alone with her.‖ He chuckled low, a liquid sound that went straight to my loins. ―But you have such lovely breasts, belleza.‖ Great, now I was thinking about him putting his hands all over my breasts. My already-weak resolve trembled as desire pulsed through my body. Knees wobbly, I forced myself to concentrate on the fruit. Fruit, fruit, fruit. Pick the fruit, I told myself. Don‘t think about the studly Spaniard behind me. ―Girls like to take things slow,‖ I said, struggling for a way to prolong the conversation. ―They like to be told they‘re pretty, and have long conversations with a boy—‖ ―But I am a man,‖ he said, and I wanted to laugh and fling myself at him all at the same time. ―-man. I meant man,‖ I amended, babbling. ―They like to be brought nice things, and go on special trips just the two of them, and they like to get to know each other before they, you know...‖ Lord, I was getting flustered. ―Before they make love for hours?‖ He asked helpfully, his sultry voice working my already-frayed nerves. ―Before the man mounts the woman and gives her the greatest pleasure of her life?‖ I felt his hand on my waist again, but he only leaned past me and reached for one of the fruits that my arms weren‘t long enough to get. ―Before he makes her skin moist with sweat, and makes her cry out his name in ecstasy?‖ He held the small green fruit up near my lips. I snatched it from his hand, piling it into the fold of my skirt, where I was putting the others. ―Boy,‖ I muttered, ―You sure do know some good phrases in English for a darn Spanish guy.‖

He chuckled. ―In my country, when we wanted something, we conquered it. But, if you wish to be courted, Diana, you shall be courted.‖ ―It‘s not that I want to be courted,‖ I protested, feeling a bit silly and flustered all at once. I actually wanted him to go back to talking about making my skin moist, in that low, rumbling accent of his. ―Hush,‖ he said, placing a finger over my lips. ―It shall be as you want it, belleza.‖ And with that, he gave me a chaste kiss on the lips and began to head down the path once more. ―Come. We have enough fruit.‖ Who was even thinking about fruit anymore?

#

Dinner that evening was a quiet one. Olivia was in no mood to talk, Harold was naturally quiet, and I was jittery from the interlude in the woods. Eustace was still gone. Salvador was the only one that seemed to be completely at ease in his own skin, and he was quiet by nature. We ate in silence. After dinner, I offered to help Olivia clean the dishes, but she would have none of it, and so we all sat around and stared at each other uncomfortably, me most uncomfortably of all. Salvador seemed amused by this. ―Diana, would you like to go and look at the stars with me?‖ ―The stars?‖ I frowned at him. That seemed like an obvious ploy to me. ―Yes,‖ he said, and left it at that.

I glanced over at Olivia, but she remained by the water-buckets, tight lipped and unhappy as she rinsed the dishes. I felt guilty. ―I bet Olivia would like to go with us.‖ I don‘t know who shot me the dirtier look then—Salvador or Olivia. ―I‘m rather tired,‖ Olivia said. ―After I clean the supper dishes, I‘ll just head to bed, I believe.‖ She offered us a small smile. ―It‘s been a long day.‖ Boy, had it ever been a long day. It still felt early too. ―All right then, I guess I‘ll go look at the stars with you.‖ I moved to Salvador‘s side. He chuckled. ―You make it sound as if it is a terrible chore to be stuck with my company.‖ I shrugged, not wanting to point out that it seemed to be an obvious ploy to get me to Make-Out Point. ―So where are we going star-gazing?‖ He gestured at the ledge. ―Right here, of course.‖ We walked away from the fire and out to the far-edge of the ledge, the exact same spot that the ladder dangled from in the daytime. It was pulled up now, in a neat pile at the edge of the rock. Salvador sat on the edge himself, letting his legs dangle over the side, and I did the same, using him as an anchor in case I slipped and fell. His arm slid easily around my waist, and I let it stay there. ―Won‘t Eustace need the rope to get back up?‖ I pointed out. Salvador shook his head. ―Eustace will not be coming back tonight.‖ ―He won‘t?‖ I felt another twinge of guilt. Poor Olivia. I‘d scared her brother off. He shook his head. ―It is not safe to travel about at night. The big cats like the nighttime.‖ ―Big cats?‖ I didn‘t like the sound of that, and liked it even less when he made a

gesture with his fingers, demonstrating super-long canine teeth. ―Saber-tooth tigers?‖ He shrugged. ―Whatever your people call them.‖ He pointed up at the stars. ―We came out here to watch the stars, not speak of cats.‖ I glanced up at the sky and sucked in a breath at the splendor above me. The stars out here in the wild were breathtaking, the entire night sky glittering with lights and covered in endless constellations. ―Wow,‖ I said, poetic words failing me. ―That‘s amazing.‖ He seemed amused by my assessment. ―In the village where my parents come from, we would sit outside and look at the stars every time we could. My mother used to tell me that if one wanted something badly enough, one could wish upon a star and if God decided, he would grant that wish.‖ I felt like such a cynic sitting next to the man, because I snorted. ―You‘ve been watching too many Disney movies.‖ I shifted in my seat, staring down at the jungle below, thinking of the wild dinosaurs that roamed the island. ―I think God‘s forgotten all about this land.‖ ―You‘re wrong,‖ he said with quiet conviction next to me. ―How are you so certain, then?‖ He turned his handsome, lean profile up to the stars. ―Nights ago, I looked at the stars and prayed to God to end my loneliness. I asked for him to give me a sign.‖ ―And did he?‖ Salvador smiled slowly, a flash of white teeth cutting across his tanned face. ―I saw a sign, yes. You may not believe me, but no sooner had I wished it than I saw a bright red streak in the sky. It lifted from the trees and burst like an explosion in the sky. From

there.‖ He pointed at the trees to the south. ―The south beaches, where I found you.‖ He‘d seen the flare gun I‘d fired. I remembered my odd fever dreams of the beautiful man, and then Salvador had showed up later. Back then I‘d thought it was all a dream. ―So you found me, and then you left me for the cavemen to grab?‖ That seemed like an odd plan. Salvador shook his head. ―I could not carry you and cover our trail at the same time. I was sweeping my tracks clean before coming back to get you, since the terrible lizard with the short arms has a very keen sense of smell. Once your scent is in his nostrils, he follows it.‖ ―That makes sense, I guess,‖ I said, grudgingly agreeing. ―But about that star...‖ He turned to look at me, the small smile playing on his lips, his face guile-less. ―God has sent you to me. What else is there to know?‖ A chill covered my arms, and I rubbed them briskly. I wanted to tell him that it was my flare he‘d seen that night, and it was nothing more than me trying to scare away an angry Tyrannosaur. Of course, who was I to shake a lonely man‘s faith in God? And what if he was right? I stared up at the stars and made a wish of my own. God, if you’re up there, please get me—get all of us—out of here. I included the others in my prayers, because the thought of leaving Salvador behind made my heart twinge painfully.

#

That night, I slept alone in Salvador‘s room. Since I had no place of my own, he‘d graciously given me his for the time being. I suspected that he was anticipating moving back in shortly, so it was no loss to him. But he behaved himself and I woke up to find him curled up near the fire in a set of blankets that Olivia had given him. The next few days fell into an easy pattern. Salvador would go hunting for small game, and I would help Olivia around the cave since I was too scared to go out in the jungle on my own. There were a million small things to be done, even with two sets of hands and I was glad to hang back. Olivia was starting to warm up to me. Her instincts told her that I was the enemy because I‘d driven off her brother, but remained polite. I sensed that she was starved for female company, and within days we had formed an easy friendship. I‘d braid her hair while she sewed, and she‘d tell me stories about island life, and how to (ugh) skin an animal and things like that. When the days got slow and the afternoon grew hot and Harold crept back to his small room to sleep, Olivia and I would sit on the edge of the ledge and watch the jungle, waiting for Salvador or Eustace to return. I‘d braid reeds for a rug—about the only skill I‘d mastered so far—and she would scrape one of the small hides from the animals Salvador brought back. ―So, are you in love with Salvador?‖ Olivia ventured one day. I glanced over at her in surprise. ―No, why?‖ Olivia gave me a sweet smile, tinged with sadness. ―He‘s in love with you. I can tell. Even when you aren‘t paying attention, he watches everything you do.‖ I blushed. Salvador had taken courting to heart. At first he would be extra courteous

to me, but it was turning into something else. The other day, he‘d brought home a small fruit shaped like a heart and insisted on giving it to me. Last night, as we‘d sat around the fire, talking, he‘d moved toward me and dumped an armful of fragrant pink flowers in my lap and gave me a hot look that made my panties go damp. Olivia sighed wistfully, clearly thinking of those flowers. I sighed too, thinking of that hot look. ―How do you feel about him?‖ Her face fell and she shrugged her shoulders, scraping the hide with small, angry jerks. ―It doesn‘t matter. I‘m too young for him. He thinks of me like I‘m his sister.‖ I unraveled the small braid I‘d messed up and started over again. ―I wouldn‘t worry about it, Olivia. In a few years you‘ll be grown up, and then you‘ll be beating the boys off with a stick. Wait and see.‖ To my surprise, she burst into tears. Olivia got to her feet and ran inside the cave, stumbling to her room and ripping the curtain shut behind her. I scrambled to my feet. ―Olivia! I‘m sorry! I know it‘s hard to wait, but trust me! I‘m sure we‘ll get rescued in no time at all.‖ She only cried harder, and wouldn‘t let me open the curtain to sit with her. Guilty, I backed off and left her alone. Salvador arrived a few hours later, and by that time my nerves were frayed enough that I met him at the base of the ladder rather than waiting for him to come up. ―Olivia‘s really upset,‖ I said, rushing out to him. ―We were just talking, and then she started crying and now she won‘t stop. I don‘t know what I said.‖ Salvador touched my cheek gently. ―Do not worry.‖ He took my hand in his and kissed it gently, then gestured at the ladder. ―Let me go up and see her. Would you like to

go bathe today?‖ ―Would I,‖ I breathed, nodding my happiness. Olivia and I had to wait for one of the men to take us to the bathing pool, and since Eustace had run off, Salvador was our only hope, and we hadn‘t gone for three days. I was feeling excessively grimy right about now. ―I shall return, then,‖ he said, and brushed a quick kiss on my forehead that made me blush. Slinging his catch for the day—two lizards and something that looked like an overgrown rat—and tossing them over his shoulder, he climbed up the ladder. I heard him call something out to Olivia in Spanish, and she screamed back at him in Spanish, still obviously upset. He returned down the rope ladder a few moments later, his face grim. Anxious, I watched him, trying not to wring my hands in worry. ―Is she okay?‖ His mouth drew into a thin line. ―She will be fine in a few hours. Come, we will go to the bathing lake and talk.‖ It was a good twenty-minute walk back to the pool where Salvador and I had first made out and I blushed every time it came into view. To his credit, though, Salvador left me alone as I quickly stripped down and bathed, plucking a few roots from the edge of the water and pounding them against rocks like Olivia had shown me. They foamed up and made a rough, woodsy sort of soap, and I cleaned my hair and body as quickly as I could, since Salvador was waiting on me. No sooner had I rinsed my hair and turned to wipe the soap out of my eyes than I found myself face to face with a large, scaly head. I screamed.

The creature bellowed at me, and something long and slimy slapped onto my head it rose to its full height, and I stared up the long neck of the animal. I heard wild splashing, and then Salvador was at my side, and I crawled onto his back, latching my arms around his neck and sobbing into his ear. ―Di-di-dino-dinosaur.‖ I pointed with a trembling finger at the obvious, the massive creature that had invaded the watering hole. He reached over and plucked the long, slimy shank of seaweed off of my shoulder where it had fallen. ―It is all right, Diana,‖ Salvador murmured. ―Be calm. This creature does not eat meat.‖ When I noticed that he showed not the slightest bit of fear, I squeezed my eyes open and gazed out at the creature. The head was large, the eyes small and stupid, and seaweed and slime dripped from his mouth as he chewed slowly, staring at us with vague disinterest. I stared at the long neck and tried to remember the stories of the dinosaurs that I‘d read as a kid. Brontosaurs didn‘t eat meat, and they had long necks. Of course. I gave a small laugh of delight at the realization, and my breath whooshed back into my lungs. ―It‘s a brontosaur.‖ ―I do not know that word,‖ Salvador said, grinning, ―but I am glad to see that you are breathing again.‖ As the giant creature lumbered away, I resisted the urge to reach out and touch the rough hide, my childhood wonder returning just a touch. ―Didn‘t you ever read about dinosaurs as a kid? I loved them when I was little.‖ He shook his head, untangling my arms from his neck. ―My childhood was very different from yours,‖ he said. ―It is, perhaps, one of the things we should discuss.‖

I realized then that I was pressed up against his back, my naked, wet breasts mashed up against his shoulder blades, and I released him to duck back into the water. ―Let me dress first.‖ ―I find myself sad that the creature has left us,‖ he said in a low voice that caused me to blush. Salvador then strode out of the water and onto the banks, and it was obvious from his wet loincloth that he was turned on. I blushed, dressing hastily. I pulled my clothing over my still-damp body and stepped from the bushes. Salvador extended his hand toward me, and I slipped mine into his. ―Come,‖ he said. ―We will go and dry off in a special spot.‖ Intrigued, I followed him through the jungle, noting that there was only the barest trace of a path where we stepped. ―Special spot?‖ ―Si. It is a special place that I wish to take you. We will talk there.‖ He did not elaborate further, so I let him lead me by the hand further into the jungle. We continued through the underbrush for a good ways, my curiosity rising, when we stopped at a thick, tall tree that stood a good ways away from the others. ―Are you a good climber, Diana?‖ ―A good climber?‖ I echoed, starting to feel uneasy. When he gestured at the tree, I shook my head. ―Oh, no. No way am I climbing up that thing.‖ I tilted my head backward, trying to stare at the top of the damn tree, but it must have been at least four stories tall. Was he crazy? I hadn‘t climbed a tree since I was eight. ―It is easy. Come,‖ he said, dismissing my fears and smiling at me. ―I will not let you fall. Do you not wish to see what I am going to show you?‖ ―Not if it involves climbing up the biggest damn tree I‘ve ever seen,‖ I grumbled. Despite my protests, I headed for the tree anyhow. Part of me wanted to please Salvador,

but an even bigger part of me was curious as to what he could possibly show me that high up. Thanks to the myriad branches and knots that covered the tree, it was actually a fairly easy climb. I only struggled with a few of the branches that were just out of my reach, and Salvador was there to help me with each one. A few times, he had to put his hands on my behind to give me a boost, and just the smallest touch would shoot nervous thrills of desire through my body. As we reached the top, the canopy swayed in the breeze, and I clutched the branches even harder. Something caught my eye and I turned, staring at a dried, woven tangle of branches and dead wood. My body froze. ―Salvador,‖ I said in a low voice. ―We‘ve got to get down. There‘s a huge nest…‖ I swallowed hard, thinking of the massive inhabitants of the nest. Massive, angry inhabitants. Possibly hungry, massive, angry inhabitants. ―Calm yourself, Diana,‖ Salvador said, moving up next to me. His hand slid around my waist, pulling me against him and supporting me before I could slip and fall. ―The nest is an old one,‖ he said, his voice soothing me. ―It is uninhabited.‖ ―How do you know?‖ I said suspiciously as he leapt up to a higher branch. ―Come,‖ he said, ignoring my protests. Salvador extended his hands down to me so he could help me up. At my hesitation, he said, ―Do you not trust me, Diana?‖ Of course I trusted him. Even though I was terrified of the thought of giant birds, I knew Salvador would not bring me to harm. I placed my hands in his and allowed him to pull me up. If Salvador said it was safe, it was safe. ―Last season, the birds were a delicious dinner.‖ He scanned the nest, then glanced

over at me and smiled, a dazzling flash of white teeth that made my flesh prickle with need. ―Since the nest still smells like human, the others do not return.‖ ―Of course,‖ I murmured, thinking I didn‘t blame the birds one bit. The branch we stood on was massive—wide enough that I could plant both feet and still not feel my toes curl around the edge of the bark. It didn‘t stop me from clinging to Salvador as he straightened, and then forced me to straighten as well. It felt…odd to be standing so high up in the trees. ―Close your eyes, belleza.‖ He reached for my other hand and pulled it to his waist so he could lead me. ―Close my eyes? Are you mad? We‘re in a tree!‖ ―But the branch beneath your feet is wide, and I am here, and you will be safe. Trust me.‖ Even as I frowned, I closed my eyes. ―You‘re crazy, you know that?‖ He laughed as he led me forward, my hands tightly gripping his waist. ―Living on an island will do that to you, belleza.‖ Salvador led me a few more steps forward, and I felt the tree beneath my shuffling feet change to hard, straw-consistency of the nest, and then softness beneath my feet, as if the nest were padded with something else. A faint scent of flowers touched my nostrils. ―Open your eyes.‖ A wonderland lay spread before me, and I gasped in delight. Hundreds of flowers, bright pink and white and tropical orange, filled the small bowl of the nest. Their scent lingered in the air like the sweetest of perfumes. The entire base of the nest was filled with flowers, so thick and so many that it must have taken Salvador many, many trips to

fill it. ―For me?‖ I said, surprised and touched by the gesture, and my hand went to my breast. No one had ever done something so sweet for me. The most I ever got was a free drink at the local bar. ―Oh, Salvador.‖ The dry ends of my hair whipped in my face and I pushed them back behind my ears, speechless. I didn‘t know what to say. He lifted one of my hands from his waist and brushed his lips against my knuckles. ―I know you do not want to be here, belleza, but I wanted to show you that even though the island is a harsh place, it is also full of beauty.‖ He sank to his knees, and took my hand in his, pulling me downward. I followed his gesture, sitting amidst the fragrant, soft flowers. They cushioned my legs and tickled them, and again I was struck at how many were here—hundreds and hundreds of flowers. ―Look down, belleza. Look down at the world around us.‖ From the edges of the nest, we could see everywhere. The forest spread open before us, filled with trees of varying heights. Bright, colorful birds flew nearby, calling in the air, the tops of the trees swaying. As I watched, a tall dinosaur head poked out of the foliage a short distance away and began to eat, plucking at the leaves with its long tongue. I leaned over the edge of the nest and looked down below, where the ferncovered forest floor was littered with dried leaves, and watched as a small herd of tiny dinosaurs rushed past, chirping like the small birds they resembled. It was wild, and strange, and oddly beautiful. At that moment, I felt more alive and more vital than I‘d ever felt before. This, with all its breathtaking fear and beauty, was living. This was not driving around in my car and showing couples houses in the hopes

that I might get a paycheck. This was not sitting in traffic or counting the hours between my next Starbucks fix. This was my reality, and it was amazing. Selling real estate in the city might be safe, but it couldn‘t take my breath away quite like this. I turned to look at the gorgeous man next to me and tell him so, and lost my words again. He twirled an orchid between his fingers, his eyes hot on me, and then slowly, dragged the soft petals down the pale skin of my arm. ―What do you think, Diana?‖ ―I think it‘s all very beautiful,‖ I said, my voice taking on a husky note as I watched that soft, ticklish flower slide over the curve of my elbow and down to my wrist. ―Thank you for showing it to me.‖ The flower did slow, brushing circles against my open palm. His gaze locked on mine, his eyes hungry. ―I would show you everything in my world, Diana, if you would let me.‖ He was so beautiful and serious in that moment. I leaned over and closed the distance between us, my lips caressing his and my hand reaching to twine in his hair, pulling his face down to mine. Salvador tasted of salt and fruit, his lips warm against my own. I was the aggressor, my lips hungrily pulling at his, my teeth nibbling at his mouth, pulling suggestively on his full lower-lip and sucking on it. I felt his groan against my mouth, and took it into my own. My tongue sought his, our mouths locked and sharing the sweetness of the moment. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my body against his. When he bore me down into the nest and laid me on the bed of flowers, I didn‘t protest. The perfume enveloped my senses, masking all other scents, and the color, texture, and scent of

flowers filled my world for a brief moment. Then, Salvador‘s mouth was back on mine, hot and hard and questing, and I gave in, opening for him and welcoming the sweet invasion of his tongue. His body pressed atop mine, our mouths locked together. His large body covered me with a startling heat, blocking out the chill nip of the wind, and I wrapped my arms around his bare torso, loving the weight and feel of him. He felt good in my arms; he felt right. Like he was made especially for me. I felt his hand slide down the length of my leg, caressing the muscles in my calf and moving back toward my thigh, sliding under my thin cotton skirt and kneading my flesh as his mouth slid over mine in a delicious, heady pattern. ―Diana,‖ he breathed against my mouth. ―I want to see your body.‖ I kissed him again, playfully. ―You‘ve already seen it a hundred times.‖ Hell, I‘d been sprawled against the man‘s back not an hour ago. He shook his head, the soft touches of his long, shaggy hair tickling my face, and he kissed my neck, my collarbone. ―This time, you will be for my eyes only,‖ he said. ―Your beauty here among the flowers, just for me.‖ A ripple of pleasure shot through me at those words, and I lost the ability to think coherently. I nodded my assent, my fingers kneading and playing on the thick muscles at his shoulders. One tanned hand slid between us, and Salvador lifted off of me, angling his body so he could unbutton my shirt and still keep me pinned beneath him. My hand slid over his chest as he slowly undid the first button, my fingers skimming on the flat disc of his nipple, and I felt his body tense at the teasing motion of my fingers. It emboldened me,

and I did it again, swirling my fingertips around the sensitive nub. The last of the buttons came undone, and he gently brushed the fabric away from my chest, revealing my bare breasts. My nipples puckered in anticipation, and I sucked in a breath at the intense gaze he gave them. He didn‘t touch me, just stared with those liquid green eyes and I began to grow nervous as the slow moments passed and he did nothing. He‘d seen my breasts before, right? Why was this new to him now? After a moment, he reached over me, and I thought he‘d gone to close my shirt, and my face felt hot with humiliation. But he reached over and plucked one of the orchids off of the bed of half-crushed flowers and gently ran the petals across my bare collarbone. ―You are more beautiful than all the treasures in the world, Diana.‖ He dragged the flower down my breastbone to rest in the valley between my breasts, and twirled it there, an imaginary trail burning down my skin. ―When I was a young man, I set off with others in search of gold and wealth, and never in my wildest dreams did I hope to ever see anything as beautiful as your body here before me, in my arms.‖ I shivered with pleasure at his words, lost in the gentle, teasing sensation of the flower petals on my skin. I hardly paid attention to what he was saying, the low, accented thrum of his voice making my pulse beat heavily through my body. I rubbed my leg against his, feeling languid. When the flower-petals brushed against the tip of my breast, I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, a whimper low in my throat. They twirled against the sensitive point, teasing and tormenting me with light, feathery touches. I pictured his lips closing over the peak and toying at it with his teeth and became hungry with need. ―So beautiful,‖ he murmured, his voice low near my breastbone. ―More beautiful than

the most perfect flower, my belleza.‖ The flower twirled around my breast, sliding around the tender skin of the under-side and then making its way across the valley of my breasts to inflict the same teasing, wonderful torture on its twin. When both my breasts were aching and taut, the flower slid away, the cool petals trailing down my belly to circle my navel. I made a soft noise in my throat, pleasure rippling through me. My hands pulled at his shoulders, nails digging into the hard cords of muscle to show him that I liked that, that I wanted more. My leg twined around his, pulling him down against me. His thigh nudged between mine, hiking my skirts up high. The flower continued to tease my bellybutton, twirling slowly on the ticklish skin. I reached up to pull his hand in mine, forcing him to drop the flower. His fingers entwined with my own. My mouth sought his in another hard, seeking kiss, and my tongue licked at the seam of his mouth, hungry. ―Belleza,‖ he chided, pulling away to kiss lightly at the corners of my mouth, detangling his fingers from mine. ―Your beauty is mine today. Let me enjoy it. I have waited a long, long time for such joy.‖ ―It‘s only been a week or two,‖ I protested, my fingers flicking across his nipple again, trying to incite his body to the same fever pitch of lust that mine was brimming with. He chuckled. ―For you, perhaps. For me, it has been lifetimes.‖ ―What—― He kissed me again, silencing my questions. They weren‘t that important, I decided, mesmerized by the stroke of his tongue against mine, the fire it stoked in my body. He

slid lower, kissing my jaw and lower, nipping at my throat. I sighed with pleasure. Fine, no questions. If he wanted to drive, I‘d let him drive. Salvador pulled me upright against him. My bare breasts grazed his smooth chest, and I moaned in pleasure, my hands skimming his chest. ―God, your body is amazing,‖ I murmured, running my fingers over the rock-hard ripples of muscle. ―Like one of those statues of the Greek gods. You could totally be Apollo to my Diana.‖ His husky chuckle made a shiver of delight pulse through me, his fingers slid the rest of my blouse off my body. It left me naked—I‘d worn no swimsuit under my clothes since we‘d gone to the waterfall, and my bare breasts peaked at being exposed to the air. I crossed my arms over my breasts, feeling shy. He stopped me, lowering my hands back to my sides and just staring at me, drinking his fill at the sight of me. Then his fingers moved to the waistband of my skirt and he grasped it, tugging downward. I readjusted myself in his lap, helping him pull off my skirt and slide it down my legs. Once it was off, he tossed it to the side, his hands running down my thighs as if he couldn‘t get enough of touching me. ―Your skin is so pale,‖ he said, murmuring against my breast, the nipple close to his mouth and yet ignored. ―The sun has not warmed you yet.‖ ―I feel pretty warm right now,‖ I said, brushing the tip of my breast against his lips suggestively. He only chuckled and lightly nipped at my flesh in a playful tease, sending a shockwave through my body. I needed more than just a quick brush of his lips. His hands moved over my naked skin, exploring me as I sat in his lap. Fingers trailed

up and down my arms, my thighs, the backs of his hands grazing across my belly in a leisurely caress. I reached for his loincloth. I stroked my fingers over his erection, noting the size of the package underneath. ―Take this off,‖ I said, my lips brushing against his face. ―I want to feel your body on mine.‖ He stilled for a moment, his hands tightening on my waist as if composing himself. ―No, belleza. Let me show you beauty. Let me show you what I offer.‖ With that, he bore me back down to the ground. I lay stretched out in the flowers before him, my body naked and quivering at the smoldering looks from his green eyes. Then, he leaned over me, his lips brushing against the tip of one nipple, and I was lost. He coaxed and teased them into stiff points, rolling a tip between his teeth and then licking it, until I was writhing beneath him and panting his name. He switched to my other breast and gave it the same lavish attention, his lips scalding against my flesh. His mouth slid down to my navel, tongue dipping into the indention, and my entire body shivered with delight. My fingers knotted in his hair, my hips moving restlessly beneath him. He kissed lower and I began to tense. His mouth moved to the curls at the juncture of my thighs, and I felt faint with giddy need, anticipation driving me wild. ―Salvador,‖ I whimpered, questioning. My thighs slid together, my body tensing at the thought of the most intimate of touches. ―Are you sure—― ―Let me, belleza,‖ he whispered against my flesh, his fingers sliding between my legs to part my thighs once more. ―I will not hurt you.‖ I was just about to protest that I wasn‘t afraid of him hurting me at all, when he parted my sex with his thumbs, and his tongue stroked my core.

My words died into a gurgled moan. I was lost. Hotly, he tongued the entrance to my body, teasing and exploring, then settled to circle at my clit. As lavished attention on it with his mouth, my legs tensed and my body began to quiver all over, and I wasn‘t able to stop the cries that erupted forth from my mouth. My fingers twisted in his hair, digging in insistently, letting him know how much I liked his mouth there. When he flicked his tongue, I shuddered. When he sucked gently at the nub, I moaned, and when he slid a finger inside me in the next moment, I broke apart. I came in that moment, tensing all around him and crying out his name in the most explosive orgasm I‘d ever had. He didn‘t stop, his fingers sliding in and out and working me with his mouth until I climaxed again, coming hard on top of the first one. After that, it seemed to take forever for my body to stop shuddering with pleasure, and when it did, I felt wrung out and weak, and oh-so-delicious. He didn‘t stop stroking my skin, even when he sat me up and pulled me in his arms, his hands stroking my back and my backside and still pressing small kisses along my shoulders. ―Oh...my...God,‖ I said eventually, the words escaping in a sigh. ―Salvador,‖ I breathed, my hands reaching for him and in surprise, I felt his loincloth at his hips. He‘d never undressed. ―You...you didn‘t...?‖ I was surprised; so lost in my own pleasure, I hadn‘t even realized that he didn‘t take his. He lifted my hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss on the palm. ―I have waited a long time, Diana. I can wait until you tell me that you are ready.‖ I gave him a wry look. ―I was pretty ready a few minutes ago.‖ Salvador shook his head, kissing my palm again and then curling my fingers shut

around my palm, as if he could trap the kiss there. ―Today, I courted you. Someday soon, when you want me, you will court me, yes? And you will tell me that you are ready.‖ His hot green eyes roamed over me possessively. ―In all ways.‖ ―If you say so,‖ I said languidly, snuggling up against his hard, broad chest. The wind was definitely high here, and cut against my naked skin. ―Is that why you stopped the first time in the waterfall?‖ ―No,‖ he said. ―The first time was because we were watched.‖ ―What?‖ I jerked up, staring into his eyes in shock. ―Someone was watching us?‖ He shrugged. ―Eustace, most likely. It was why he was so eager to claim you for his own, but you are mine.‖ His thumb skimmed along my lower lip, still swollen from our kisses. Well, that was creepy. ―Diana,‖ Salvador began. ―We should talk about Olivia.‖ The perfect afternoon dampened a little, and I felt selfish. ―Do we have to talk about her right now? Can‘t we talk about it later? I don‘t want to ruin the moment.‖ There was plenty of time to think about all the unhappy things in the world later. Right now I was content to relax in Salvador‘s arms and bask in the afterglow. ―Later, then,‖ he whispered huskily against my ear, and pulled me close. We watched the skies and enjoyed the peace of the afternoon for a time, and I snuggled in Salvador‘s arms. Try as I might, the image of Eustace spying on the two of us in the waterfall stayed with me even when we dressed and made our way back down the tree. I thought of Eustace and was thankful again that Salvador was the better fighter of the two.

I watched his lean, muscled form as he held my hand and led me through the forest. There could be a lot worse things than being stranded on a deserted island with a gorgeous man like this. When we arrived back at the cave, Olivia already had supper cooking, the two rabbits spitted over the fire and slowly turning. She took one look at my tousled hair and my clothing and flushed, retreating to the far end of the cave and ignoring us. I glanced down at my blouse and noticed it was buttoned wrong and half-untucked out of my skirt, and hastily fixed it. Salvador chuckled at my expression and pressed a kiss at my temple, finger-combing my hair for me. I shooed him away with my hands. ―It‘s not funny. She‘s going to think I‘m a huge slut.‖ After a moment, I added, ―More than she already thinks I am.‖ He gave me a slow, sensual smile that made my toes curl even though I was still limp and exhausted from our experience in the nest. ―Let her think what she likes, Diana. She knows you belong to me.‖ His searching eyes made me feel suddenly shy, and I leaned over to give him a quick kiss on the mouth, and whispered, ―Thank you for today.‖ I blushed even as I said it, but I felt the need to say something. Salvador pulled me against him, running his hands along my sides again, a line of concentration on his forehead, and I knew he was struggling to keep himself in check. ―I have waited a long time for you, Diana. It was a pleasure to be able to give you such joy with my mouth.‖ Oh. I blushed at that and concentrated on twining my fingers in his again. ―How long

have you waited?‖ He leaned over to nibble at my ear, his voice husky and sad. ―Four hundred and eighty-nine years.‖

Chapter Eight

I jerked away from him in surprise. ―What?‖ There was a sad look on Salvador‘s face that I didn‘t like, one that made me worry and tense with fright, even as I repeated my question. ―What did you just say?‖ He shook his head. ―There is no better way to say this, Diana. I have been on this island four hundred and eighty-nine years.‖ I backed a step away from him. ―That‘s impossible. You know that‘s impossible. Nobody lives that long.‖ A short, bitter laugh escaped me. ―You‘ve gone crazy on this island, haven‘t you?‖ My laugh turned into a choked sob. ―I knew you were too good to be true.‖ Salvador took a step towards me, hand outstretched, but I slapped it away. ―Diana,‖ he said. ―I wish there was an easier way to say this to you, to show you what I mean. Believe me when I say I do not lie.‖ ―How can you possibly be on this island for four hundred and eighty-nine years?‖ My voice broke a little. ―My ship was heading to Florida with Ponce de Leon‘s in search of the riches of the New World, when we hit a sudden storm—― I interrupted him, raising a hand to silence him. ―Stop it. I don‘t want to hear your lies.‖ This was ridiculous. First the dinosaurs, now this. Salvador was crazy. Being stuck

here on the island had made him lose track of time. I glanced around in the small cave, looking for Olivia—she wasn‘t in the main room. I moved back to her quarters and pulled the flap back, ignoring the red-rimmed glare she gave me as she sat on a pile of fur blankets. ―Olivia? Tell me that he‘s making this up?‖ ―Making what up?‖ ―The time you guys have been on the island. Seriously. Tell me the truth.‖ She straightened, her eyes somber as she regarded me. ―My brother and I left England on Her Majesty‘s Ship, the Rosalie, in 1840. We ran into a storm, and we were cast here. That was one hundred and seventy years ago. I am one hundred and seventy nine years old.‖ She believed this too. No wonder she‘d burst into tears when I mentioned that she‘d grow out of this soon. If she thought she was nearly two hundred years old, and still trapped in the body of a thirteen year old... I put my hands to my forehead in distress. ―You‘re both lying.‖ I glanced over at the fire, where ancient Harold huddled. ―Harold?‖ But he didn‘t speak. Harold never spoke. ―He landed here thirty-some years later,‖ Olivia said, her voice dull. ―On the Mary Celeste. There was a baby—a young girl, but she died.‖ So straightforward, so unabashed with the ‗facts‘. A sick coldness twisted in my stomach and grew. ―I am sorry, Diana,‖ said Salvador. ―I wanted to keep it from you for as long as possible, to give you some time to adjust, but I felt you should know.‖ When he reached for me again, I slapped his hands away once more and turned away,

a hysterical bubble in my throat. ―You‘re both crazy—everyone here is crazy. Do you know what year it is?‖ ―Two thousand and ten,‖ they both replied at the same time. Harold just stared at me. ―That‘s right! And people might live to be a hundred, but nobody—nobody!—lives to be four hundred. That‘s impossible. Things like this don‘t happen in the modern world. Everything is explained by science. Everything.‖ ―Such as the terrible lizards? The di-no-saurs, you call them?‖ Of course they were unfamiliar with the term ‗dinosaur‘. It hadn‘t been coined before they‘d been shipwrecked here. I reeled, cramming my knuckles against my mouth and biting down on them to keep from screaming. ―Diana,‖ Salvador said, approaching me with his hands outstretched, as if to comfort me. ―You know—as we do—that things on this island are not right. Our naval equipment does not work, the stars never move in their position in the skies, and great and terrible creatures roam the land, creatures that do not exist except in the stories Olivia has told me.‖ He looked at me with serious, haunted eyes. ―Nothing on this island ages; not you, or me, or anything at all. We exist here, outside of time.‖ I could not bite back the hysterical laughter that bubbled forth in my throat, and shoved past him. I bolted for his small cave, wanting to dive into the wealth of furs and never come out again, to close my eyes and wish fervently that this was all a bad dream. No sooner had I shut the crude leather curtain behind me than I heard Olivia‘s voice. ―Let her go, Salvador.‖ Her voice sounded surprisingly old and tired for one so young. ―You know she will need time to adjust to the truth. It is not an easy thing to realize.‖ ―I do not want her to hurt, Olivia.‖ His voice sounded as anguished as I felt.

―I know,‖ she said simply. I turned away, facing the opposite wall, and my straining eyes made out the hashmarks, even in the darkness of the small sleep-nook. Every white scratch etched on the surface of the rock taunted me. One hundred and seventy years Olivia had been here. Four hundred and eighty-nine years for Salvador. Four hundred and eighty-nine fucking years. I have waited lifetimes for you, he‘d said to me, and I‘d brushed it off as the romantic musings of a lonely man. Now, it struck me with stark clarity. I would be stuck here for all eternity, waiting for a rescue that would never come, stuck in a cave, afraid for my life because of the giant man-eating dinosaurs that existed just outside the cave walls. The reality of it crashed around me. I buried my face in the furs and sobbed.

#

I drifted in and out of consciousness, long enough to hear the occasional low conversation in Spanish. The sound of voices, and the realization that I had woken up in the exact same terrible spot, rather than waking up and realizing this was all a nightmare, caused me to burst into fresh tears, and I cried myself back to sleep. At one point, Olivia woke me up with a rough shake, and I glanced up to see her looming over me, a bowl of hot soup cradled in rags to keep her hand safe from the overheated metal. ―Wake up, Diana. You must eat something.‖

I turned away from her with a jerk, burrowing under the blankets again. The sight of the conquistador helmet-turned-soup-bowl turned my stomach, reminding me of my situation yet again. ―No, I don‘t.‖ ―You must,‖ she insisted. ―Why? It‘s not like I can die,‖ I said bitterly, and ignored her until she went away. I was being a horrible baby and a martyr, I knew it, but I didn‘t care. The thought of spending four hundred years stranded on a deserted island was enough to bring about a fresh onset of tears and despair, and in the end, I didn‘t care what she thought of me.

#

I don‘t know how long I continued in this pattern, only that I woke up at one point, my belly pinched and hungry, and felt like I‘d been wrecked. Figuratively, this time, instead of literally. I sat up in bed, wondering why I‘d woken up, when the curtain parted and Salvador entered, one of the trunks from the storage area of the cave tucked under his arm, the other holding the old lantern, lit with a tiny flame. The scent of coconut oil grew thick in the small room. ―May I enter?‖ His voice was soft, thick with his intriguing accent. ―Sure,‖ I said tonelessly. I wasn‘t going to stop him; it was his room, after all. He set the lamp down on the small corner stool and sat down across from me, on the far end of the bed, careful to give me my space. Salvador ran a hand along the wood, clearly cherishing it, and then turned and offered me the small trunk.

I pulled up my legs underneath me, straightening. ―What is this?‖ When I didn‘t reach for the trunk, Salvador set it down between us. It was no bigger than a banker‘s box, really, and the wood shone with age and care. ―This is all I have left of my original ship,‖ he said. ―I wanted to show it to you.‖ All of a sudden, I didn‘t want to see. I shied away from the thing like it was a nest of vipers. ―No thank you,‖ I said. Salvador didn‘t move, only gestured at the chest. ―Please, Diana. I would share it with you.‖ Reluctantly, I undid the worn leather buckle that kept the trunk closed, and opened it, turning it to the side so we could both look into it. The chest was almost empty. I don‘t know if I‘d expected it to be brimming with treasures like a pirate‘s booty, but the few objects it contained must have been that much more precious to its owner. I reached inside the chest and pulled out a large, flat leather book. The pages were rippled and thick with water damage, and I ran my fingers over the delicately embossed cover. There was writing on the front, in an unfamiliar script. ―What does it say?‖

―Captain‘s log,‖ he replied. A log book of his journey, then. ―You were the captain?‖ I flipped open the book, letting the pages slide apart, and to my surprise, they were empty, all except the first few. ―I was not,‖ he said, a rueful smile touching his mouth. ―I was but a poor soldier, no one of note. The captain was an officer of the royal navy, a far greater man than one such as me.‖ After a moment, he admitted, ―I found out later that the captain could not read or

write. Our written logs for the trip were not recorded, which made me very sad.‖ I flipped to the front of the book and looked at the list there. Names scrawled across the lines of the page, in many different hands and many kinds of ink. Some were smeared across the page thanks to the water damage, but others were preserved. A few just had an ‗X‘ in the spot, showing that they could not write their name. ―That is a listing of the soldiers on our ship, the Joanna Reina. Everyone signed their name just before the journey, so we would be paid after the voyage ended. I was promised a parcel of land once we had finished exploring the new world.‖ The list of names were Spanish as well, and while I could not make out a great deal of the handwriting and the letters, I could distinguish a few names. Enrique de la Rocha. Juan Gabriel de Soto. Near the bottom, sandwiched between a few Xs lay a neatly lettered name in a handwriting breathtakingly familiar to the one on the wall. Salvador Diego de la Cuerva. The year 1521 was written out to the side in the same ink. ―I see your name,‖ I murmured, touching the page as if it might make me understand the strange world I found myself thrust into. A portion of the page flaked away under my fingertip, dissolving with age, and I held my breath and closed the book again, determined not to disturb it further. Salvador said nothing, his green eyes watching me intently. Next in the chest was a mariner‘s compass, very old and beautiful. As soon as I pulled it out, I noticed that the needle still spun in slow, wobbling, endless circles. ―I kept that with me for a long time,‖ Salvador said. ―After we landed here, I had hopes that we might be rescued, or that we might build a raft and escape here.‖ ―We?‖ I asked.

He shook his head and gestured at the chest. ―Please, continue.‖ There was not much else in there. A pair of spurs prompted an interruption by Salvador. ―We had a knight with us on board the ship, a very great man,‖ he said. ―We were all jealous of him, and aspired to be like him. I found them washed up on shore, later, and kept them.‖ When I pulled out a rosary made of wood, he only smiled. Last in the chest was a small, oiled pouch. I touched it hesitantly, and glanced over at Salvador. The expression on his face was pained, but he nodded at me. Curious, I opened the delicate pouch and pulled out the small object inside. It was a painting, the edges covered with a hard metal framework. It was small—no more than the size of a postcard, and dark with age. The picture was of a young woman, smiling serenely for the picture, dressed in a pale pink gown. Her black hair cascaded over her back and she had lovely, bright eyes and pale skin. ―She‘s very pretty,‖ I said, unsure what I was looking at. ―We were to be married when I returned from the expedition,‖ Salvador admitted. ―She promised to wait for me to return, even though it would be at least two years before I came back. Her family was...better than mine, shall we say. They had an aristocratic background, and mine was nothing but poor farmers. They did not like that we were engaged, but Bianca was very headstrong.‖ I sucked in a breath, studying the small portrait. A small stab of jealousy shot through me, and I stared at the smiling face of the young woman. ―Do you think she waited for you?‖ My voice was small. I‘d never given a thought to what Salvador might have had to leave behind. He gave me a small smile. ―I like to think that she did not. Bianca was very

impetuous, but she was also not very patient. I told myself that she might have waited a few years, perhaps, if that long, and married a young man that would not have gone to sea chasing a soldier‘s dreams.‖ I thought of the helmets in the main part of the cave. ―You were a conquistador.‖ Salvador chuckled. ―It was not a very romantic job, I am afraid. Most of my conquering involved fighting the rats in the hold of the ship for my share of the bread. It was a terrible thing.‖ He rocked backward, thinking. ―I was never so hungry as I was on that ship, you know.‖ Fascinated despite myself, I re-wrapped the small portrait in the oiled pouch and lay it gently back in the trunk. ―How did you...you know. Get here?‖ I hated to use the term ‗crash‘ because it seemed so...final. He settled in, becoming more comfortable, and leaned over on the blankets. ―We had just left Bermuda a few days earlier, when one of our masts snapped in a storm. It was not a main mast, but a smaller one, and even though we fell behind the other ships, within a few days of repairs, we thought we would be good as new. Our captain decided that we should continue on, and we fell behind the rest of Ponce De Leon‘s ships. Not long after that, the waters became perfectly calm, and we floundered in the ocean for many days. The men began to talk witchcraft, but that is a silly thing. We were very far from land, and to turn back meant just as many days voyage, and failure. We wanted to be paid, so we continued on to the New World.‖ ―After a time, the winds returned, but they were not the regular winds that we were used to. They were very, very strong—like that of an immense storm, and I remember there was no rain, only a great deal of wind. The skies turned an odd, greenish color.‖ He

grew thoughtful, staring up at the walls of the cave as he spoke. ―I remember that we prayed a great deal, praying to God to deliver us to safety. I remember staying belowdecks, because the ship was pitching about, and the men screaming that the astrolabe and compass were no longer working.‖ He glanced over at me. ―The next thing I remember, I was here on the shore of this island, with three other crewmen. We did not know what happened to the others.‖ ―Three other men?‖ I looked at him in surprise. ―What happened to them?‖ The lines of his mouth grew thin, grim. ―We learned that this land is not an easy one, and that the monsters here like the taste of human flesh all too well. Before the end of the first day, two of the men had been eaten by the creature with the short arms and long teeth.‖ He made a gesture with his hands, imitating the stubby forearms of my least favorite dinosaur. ―The tyrannosaur,‖ I said. ―We called it the demon lizard,‖ he said, his smile grim. ―Or at least, I did. The other man lived for a time, but he drowned.‖ Salvador shook his head. ―We were here for many weeks and it got to him—he became crazy with the loneliness of the island and missed his family. One day, we were hunting and he dropped his spear and decided at that moment to swim out to sea. He thought that would be preferable to staying here, waiting for someone to come back for us. I watched him disappear into the ocean, and he never came back.‖ What a sad story. Pity swelled in my heart for Salvador, and the hard times he‘d had. All this time, alone, waiting for company, struggling to live on the harsh island. ―But you stayed.‖

A hint of a smile touched his mouth then. ―It is not so bad. I have always been a solitary man,‖ he admitted. ―So I was not too lonely at first. I counted the days on a stick, deciding I would simply wait for someone to come looking for the remains of our ship. Perhaps it would take a few months, perhaps longer, but they would not forget about us. We carried a great deal of riches on our ship, riches that De Leon intended to bribe the local natives with.‖ ―When the days turned into months, and the months turned into a year, I began to count here on this wall.‖ He gestured behind me. ―The rest you know.‖ ―That is a horrible story,‖ I said vehemently. He seemed surprised by my reaction. ―Why is it so horrible?‖ My hands curled into angry fists against my legs. ―You‘re stuck here! You can‘t escape! The island is crawling with man-eating dinosaurs!‖ I threw my arms wide. ―Doesn‘t that bother you?‖ Salvador shrugged. ―Perhaps at first. But no life is without risk, is it not? If I had made it to my destination, perhaps I would have been killed by the savages of the New World. Perhaps I would have caught a sickness, or died of starvation. Even if I had made it back home, I would have been nothing but a gentleman farmer, dependent on the weather for my good fortune, and perhaps lovely Bianca would not have waited for me after all.‖ He glanced over at me. ―So who is to say that this life is better or worse than another? It is different than what I would have thought for myself, but I cannot say I am unhappy. I am healthy, my companions are healthy. I have not aged one day since I came to this island, and remain as fit as I ever was. We have good things to eat here, it never snows. Yesterday, I kissed the most beautiful woman in the world all over her body. Life

is good to me. No, I cannot complain about what God has seen to give me.‖ I blushed at the hot look in his eyes and the reminder of what we had done so recently. ―You only say I‘m the most beautiful woman in the world because right now I‘m the only woman in the world,‖ I grumbled. He chuckled at my peevish words. ―Just because you are the only woman does not make you any less beautiful, my belleza. ‖ ―It‘s just so...hard,‖ I said, my voice breaking again. I thought of Olivia, forever stuck in a child‘s body. She had it the worst of all. I remembered the sad, longing looks she‘d given Salvador, and wondered if he realized how much she loved him. It wasn‘t sisterly by a long shot, but it couldn‘t be anything as long as he thought of her as a child. ―I liked my life,‖ I admitted, fighting back disappointed tears. ―I don‘t like this island. It scares me. I don‘t want to live forever...especially not in the jungle. I miss everything. I miss my job, my car, my apartment.‖ My voice broke a little and I felt stupid. ―I even miss my cat.‖ ―You have a cat in your house?‖ I nodded, sniffling. ―Just a small one. My friend is looking after her while I‘m gone, at least. Poor Becky,‖ I said, thinking of my friend. ―I don‘t think she realized I‘d be gone so long. She‘s going to have to buy more cat food.‖ I gave a watery laugh at the absurd words coming out of my mouth. Salvador smiled at that, and brushed a lock of hair off my forehead tenderly. ―You cannot find one thing to be thankful for in all this? That you are alive and healthy, and you have people that care for you?‖ He seemed sad at this realization. ―It‘s not the same,‖ I said, fighting for my old life, knowing that everything I said was

a slap to the face of his kindness. ―I wanted a family of my own...my job...I wanted children someday.‖ I blinked back tears as I realized none of that was going to happen now. ―I wanted to get married.‖ Damn. I was really going to cry now. All those sad, sweet little daydreams that every girl has were escaping away from me, before I‘d even had a chance to experience them. ―Diana,‖ he said, his fingers under my chin and lifting my face towards his. ―I would marry you.‖ His voice ached with so much longing that it brought a knot to my throat. ―You would?‖ The girlish, sick part of me was inordinately pleased. ―You are brave, courageous, beautiful and smart,‖ he said. ―—And don‘t forget, the only girl on the island,‖ I added. He chuckled at that. ―Does it matter?‖ ―I don‘t suppose it does,‖ I said, blinking back tears. He kissed my eyelids gently, his fingers brushing away my tears. ―Let me make you happy, Diana. Let me love you.‖ Even as I agreed, I wondered if I could ever be truly happy on this island, or if I‘d always long for the real world. Then, he was kissing me again and I let the sensations drown out everything else.

#

I awoke later, cuddled against Salvador‘s chest and listening to him sleep. My heart still hurt at the thought of being stuck here for all eternity, but pressed up against his warm, delicious body, it was equally hard not to think of the up-side.

I‘d never get old. I‘d never wrinkle, or sag, or get gray hair. I‘d never have to answer to my horrible, nasty boss ever again, or drive fifteen miles in a raging snowstorm just to get to work and show some irritating client a house they wouldn‘t buy. I had the world‘s most gorgeous man completely to myself. What were a few maneating dinosaurs in the face of that, right? Forcing myself to be cheered by that thought, I slid out of bed and straightened my wrinkled clothing. We‘d slept with it on, and there‘d been no hanky-panky. I was almost disappointed about that, but he‘d been good to his promise, and simply held me while I talked about my life at home, and the modern things that I missed—Starbucks, clean restrooms, my laptop, a hot shower. I‘d never find out what happened on Grey‘s Anatomy, or see my parents ever again. I‘d never drink another mojito or go dancing in a night-club, though I could certainly do without the men that such things normally drew. As we‘d talked into the night—or rather, I‘d talked, and he listened, since I suspected that many of the things I discussed were beyond his comprehension—I realized that maybe it wasn‘t so bad after all. I‘d never catch the flu from sitting next to someone sick on an airplane. I‘d never be stuck in rush-hour traffic. I‘d never have to worry about getting Botox, or fending off a slimy client, the state of the economy, or if I was going to make my rent that month. I didn‘t have to worry about anything except survival. Primal, true, but it had its appeal. Being cuddled all night in the arms of a big, hunky man that adored me also helped things. And even though I dreamed about the footprints on the beach, and the wreck, I also dreamed about Salvador and his beautiful green eyes. So, with a more cheerful mindset, I emerged from Salvador‘s small cave the next

morning, humming and lost in thought. It had been almost three weeks since my plane had went down, and while parts of it seemed like forever, it had all gone by very fast. Idly, I yawned and wondered how fast four hundred and eighty-nine years had passed by. I headed for the fire, wondering if Olivia was up yet and had made breakfast. I needed to learn how to cook too, if I was going to make it here. I wanted to do my share—it was the least I could do. Olivia was up, all right, her face wreathed in smiles. Sitting at the campfire in the midst of the cave was Harold, as usual, and next to him sat a very grimy, bedraggled Eustace, who glowered at me when I stopped in surprise. ―Hi,‖ I said, feeling suddenly uneasy. How was he going to act around me? Around Salvador? He nodded in greeting and didn‘t say anything else. Olivia trotted quickly over to his side and shoved a bowl of soup under his nose, urging him to eat. ―It‘s your favorite,‖ she murmured, shooting me a happy look. I sat down across the fire from him and watched as he wolfed down his food, my own appetite gone. I wondered if having Eustace back would be always as uncomfortable as it was right now. Salvador emerged from our sleeping area a few minutes later, and immediately went to Eustace‘s side, putting a hand on his shoulder. ―It is good to see you, my friend,‖ he said, his voice warm with emotion. Eustace stood, all eating forgotten, and the two men gave each other a quick, brief, guy hug. It was obvious the affection between the two was great. I guessed that spending a hundred and seventy years on an island together would make you as close as brothers.

Heck, it was almost like they‘d never fought over me. Salvador leaned over to give me a gentle kiss, and then strode to the far end of the cave, pulling out his favorite knife and regarding his reflection in the shine of one of the helmets, and began to scrape his jaw clean of the day‘s growth. A quick glance over at Eustace showed that he had gone back to eating, and was studiously avoiding looking at me. Well, if we were going to pretend that my being here was a non-issue, I was all for that. Salvador finished shaving, rubbed a bit of coconut oil on his face to take away the sting, and ate a quick bowl of food. ―I must get going before the sun is high in the skies.‖ I got to my feet, surprised. ―You‘re going? Where are you going?‖ He was going to leave me here, with Eustace? He chuckled at my astonished expression. ―The food does not bring itself to the cave, belleza,‖ he chided. ―I will be back soon enough.‖ To my immense relief, Eustace got to his feet as well. ―I‘ll come with you, Salvador.‖ Olivia clutched at her brother‘s arm. ―Eustace, no! You just got back! You‘re exhausted.‖ He did look tired, I had to admit. He‘d lost quite a bit of weight since I‘d last seen him, and his clothing—already ragged—was in tatters. But he gave his sister an offhand hug and smiled at her. ―I‘ll be just fine, Olivia. Not to worry. Salvador and I have to discuss some things.‖ Oh boy. ‗Some things‘ as in me, I could guess. Uncomfortable prickles touched the back of my neck, but I forced myself to smile and wave goodbye like Olivia as they climbed down the ladder and disappeared into the woods, talking quietly. I looked over at Olivia and kept my forced smile on. ―Anything exciting planned

today?‖ She couldn‘t quite hide the sulky, resentful look on her face. ―I was going to go do laundry with Eustace before, but I guess I‘ll stay around the cave instead.‖ I winced. ―Look, Olivia, I‘m really sorry about the whole situation, I really am.‖ ―It‘s not your fault,‖ she said, sighing as she sat down on a nearby stool. ―I know it‘s not. It‘s just that...‖ she spread her hands helplessly. ―I‘ve had them both to myself for so long, it is difficult to share. Do you understand?‖ Why, I did. I smiled at her. ―Surely there‘s something we could do, just the two of us girls.‖ And there was. Most of the morning we spent experimenting with the fruit wines that Olivia kept on a ledge in the sun. She‘d stoppered several broken bottles with just about anything she could find, filled them with all kinds of fruit, and had been letting it ferment for various periods of time. A quick taste nearly made me cough on the sweet liquorsyrup taste, and she laughed brightly at my expression. We‘d discussed different flavors of wine to try and spent the morning mashing up mixtures of fruits and flowers. It was almost like having a kid sister around, and I enjoyed her company. As Harold napped the afternoon away, we spent most of it digging through her scrapbag and piecing them together to make her a bikini similar to mine—albeit with a longer skirt. ―It does seem rather airy,‖ she admitted to me at one point. I busied myself with the project of making panties with no elastic, and she showed me how to make a drawstring instead. Drawstring panties. Novel. We were both laughing over the sewing when we heard a shout below. Eustace.

Olivia‘s face drained of color and she bolted to her feet, rolling back the woven-palm roof and shoving a pulley—that I hadn‘t noticed before—down the side of the ledge. I raced over to her side just as she called down. ―Is everything all right?‖ Below us, I spotted Eustace. He shielded his eyes from the afternoon sun and stared up at us, and I gasped at the blood covering the remains of his grey shirt. Salvador was a few steps behind him, staggering slightly, and between the two of them, strung on a branch, was the carcass of the biggest tiger I‘d ever seen. Olivia‘s bellow surprised me. ―What have the two of you fools done?‖ Salvador didn‘t answer, and my worried heart thrummed in my throat as I watched him slowly hobble to the lift and slide the animal carcass on, and sat down with it. ―Just lift us up, Livvy,‖ Eustace said to his sister, ‖And don‘t worry about it. We‘ll tell you shortly.‖ I didn‘t think that between Olivia and I that we‘d be able to manage to pull up the pulley on our own, but Eustace climbed up the ladder and helped us, and we were able to crank the heavy platform up to the lip of the cave and tumble both Salvador and dead cat onto the cave floor. The moment Salvador was on the ground, I was on him, running my hands over his skin and praying in my head. A litany of ‗oh lord, oh lord, oh lord‘ repeated in my mind, over and over again as I touched him. His body was covered in scratches from head to toe. Several surface scratches were accompanied by one or two deeper gouges that tore the skin and slicked his tanned flesh with blood. His back was especially covered, and his arms. He winced when I touched him. I couldn‘t tell how badly he was hurt, just that he was slow moving and covered in blood, and it frightened me more than anything I‘d ever

imagined. I found it hard to breathe I was so terrified for him. Taking the undergarment that I‘d just sewn together, I swabbed at his skin, trying to see where the blood ended and the wounds began. ―What happened? What happened?‖ I kept repeating over and over. Salvador winced when I hit upon one particularly sensitive spot and pushed my hands away. ―It is nothing. A few scratches—― ―A few scratches?‖ Outraged, I resisted the urge to throw the half-sewn undergarment at him, and examined him with my eyes instead. ―A few scratches? You‘re covered!‖ ―It is nothing; a stupid mistake.‖ I gestured at the pulley. ―You had to ride up the damn cart because you couldn‘t climb! How can you say that‘s nothing?‖ Quietly, Olivia said, ―I don‘t understand. Why would you hunt one of the big cats? It is more meat than we can possibly prepare without it spoiling, Eustace. It makes no sense—― From the side, Eustace sighed, sounding much put upon. He unslung a pack from his back and set it gently on the ground, along with his hunting spear. ―To be fair, Olivia, it attacked us more than the other way around,‖ he said, rubbing his head in chagrin and causing the dark curls to stick up on his head in sweaty chaos. ―As for Salvador, he‘s fine. He just twisted his ankle is all.‖ I looked over at Salvador and noticed that his ankle was swollen to twice the size of the other, and other than that, he did seem relatively whole—if not blood-spattered and scratched. I shook my head at him, confused. ―I don‘t understand.‖ I‘d seen Salvador in the woods—he was graceful, careful, silent. How had he been caught by one of the big

hunting cats? Worried, I ran my hands over his shoulders again, fluttering and feeling the need to touch him, repeatedly, to make sure that he was all right. I was torn between laughing with relief and bawling my eyes out in fright. I settled for being cranky and shoved him towards my stool. ―Sit down,‖ I said. ―Get off your ankle if you‘ve hurt it.‖ He obliged me, hobbling over to the stool itself and letting me fuss over him with a wetted cloth as I cleaned away some of the blood and put a wet compress on his ankle. I wished fervently for ice, knowing that it was an impossibility on a tropical island. ―But I don‘t understand,‖ Olivia was saying again, her small voice perplexed. ―You always stay away from the long-tooth caves, always—― A soft mewing interrupted her, and I froze. She cocked her head slightly, puzzled. ―Did you hear that?‖ Olivia glanced uneasily at the carcass of the large tiger, but it was very dead. The mewing grew louder, and I looked over at Salvador, who had a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. ―I brought you a present.‖ Another one of his courting presents? I didn‘t comprehend, and still had a hard time comprehending when Eustace reached into his bag and pulled out a small, mewling, scratching kitten with tiny dun stripes and long front teeth. ―We didn‘t anticipate the mother following us for quite so long,‖ Eustace explained, handing the kitten to me. ―And then when we killed the dam, we had to go back and get the other cub as well, so it wouldn‘t starve.‖ He reached into the bag and handed another equally tiny, equally fussy mewing bundle to Olivia, who accepted it with wide-eyed shock. I cradled the baby kitten against my neck, half torn between thinking the gesture was

sweet and being utterly confused. ―I don‘t get it,‖ I said, stroking the soft, soft fur of the baby kitten. It was terribly tiny yet, no larger than a chihuahua, though at some point it was going to grow to be as big as the dead mama, sprawled in the midst of our cave. ―You wished to be courted,‖ Salvador explained, as if this was obvious. ―In my country, we gave gifts when we wished to court a woman.‖ I remembered our conversation from last night, and my tearful confessions. I even miss my cat, I‘d said at one point. Good Lord above, the man had gone and risked his neck just to get me another cat. I continued to stroke the soft fur of the kitten, who now purred against my neck, burrowing for warmth against my hair. Fear, love, and outrage warred within me. Fear for Salvador‘s safety, and how far he‘d take this ‗courting‘ thing—love for him, that he‘d go so far and risk so much just to bring a smile to my face. Outrage trumped them both. The man—no, the idiot—had put himself in serious danger just to get me a present and to prove a point. Olivia‘s giggles of delight interrupted my rapidly blackening thoughts. ―His whiskers tickle,‖ she said happily. ―Oh, thank you, Eustace!‖ She gave him a one armed hug of delight, cradling the kitten with the other. He smiled down at his sister, and I noticed Salvador watching me, waiting for his adoring affection as I appreciated his present. I extracted the tiny, mewing kitten from my shoulder and handed it over to Olivia. ―If you will excuse me for a minute, I need to talk to Salvador alone,‖ I said, maintaining my composure before stalking away to the far end of the cave and slinging the curtain of Salvador‘s room shut behind me.

It took longer than I thought for Salvador to come after me, but he limped in soon enough, a stony look on his face. ―Eustace and Olivia have gone down to the bathing pool with the cats. They thought we needed some time alone.‖ I took one look at him, at his unapologetic face, and reached out and slapped him. Crack. No sooner had my hand connected with his cheek, than I burst into tears and collapsed on the bedding in noisy sobs. All the tension in my body, all the tension over the past few weeks, the sexual frustration between myself and Salvador, had culminated in that one heart-stopping, terrifying moment when I saw his bloody body pulled up on the platform, and thought I couldn‘t breathe. Somewhere along the lines, somewhere between dragging my feet and screaming about how I hated this island, I‘d gone and fallen in love with the big Spanish galoot. And he‘d just about scared me to death. I sobbed on the blanket, big, noisy sobs, angry at myself as much as him. It was stupid to get so frightened, and stupid of him to risk his life, all for a stupid courting present. Within moments, he was down beside me on the furs, hugging me against his chest, and I was enveloped in the scent of masculine sweat and the unique, warm smell of Salvador. ―Diana,‖ he soothed, stroking my hair and saying my name in that wildly sexy accented way of his. ―I am sorry, belleza. I thought you would care for the small cat. I only wanted to make you smile, not cry.‖ ―How can you risk your life like that?‖ I cried, turning in to face his chest and slamming a fist against his breastbone weakly. ―How can you even think of doing such a

thing? You‘d leave me here, stuck without you, for eternity?‖ I sobbed at the very thought, so choked with fear. ―I don‘t know what I‘d do if I lost you.‖ His fingers brushed my cheeks. ―You would survive, little belleza. You are a strong woman. Come, do not be so afraid for me.‖ I resisted the urge to hit him again. ―How can I not be afraid for you?‖ I sniffed loudly, the sound echoing in the small, quiet room. ―I‘ve fallen in love with you, you big idiot.‖ There, I‘d said it. It hung open in the air between us, and I felt acutely vulnerable. ―You love me?‖ He said, his voice husky with surprise. A pause, then, ―Or do you simply say that because I am the only man on the island?‖ The clever man was turning my own words against me. I had to laugh at that, my tears drying in the light of his radiant smile. He looked so happy that I felt my anger withering away, replaced with something a bit hotter—desire. I turned in his arms, giving him a rough shove backwards onto the blankets. ―If you don‘t believe my confessions of love, perhaps I should show you?‖ ―I think I need a demonstration,‖ he agreed, laying backward, his hands sliding over my hips. My mouth descended on his in the briefest of kisses. ―We‘re alone?‖ I asked against his lips. ―Harold is on the far side of the cave and asleep in his den, and the other two are gone for a few hours,‖ he said thickly, grasping my hips and sliding them down his torso to cradle them against his own. ―It is just you and me.‖ ―Well, my sexy conquistador,‖ I said, leaning over him and letting my nipples brush

against his chest through my blouse, and feeling the sharp intake of his breath as I straddled him and his hardness. ―You said you would not take me until I asked you for it, yes?‖ Deliberately being teasing, I rotated my hips against his erection in a deliberate, teasing motion. His low groan excited me, and I felt his fingers clench hard on my hips. ―Yes,‖ he said in his too-proper, thickly accented English. My heart swelled with love for this man. I knew at that moment that I could rub against him all day like a cat in heat, and he‘d do nothing more than give me my pleasure and ignore his own. He loved me enough to forsake his own needs, even after going four hundred and eighty-nine years without a woman. Wasn‘t that the ultimate in love? I stroked my tongue across his mouth suggestively. ―Salvador Diego de la Cuerva,‖ I said huskily. ―I want you. I want you to take me now and make me yours.‖ He stilled beneath me. ―You said you wished to be married—― I ground my hips against his erection. ―I love you. You love me. There is no priest on this island. Would you marry me?‖ ―You know I would.‖ His voice sounded strained in the darkness. ―I‘d marry you too. Now, can we get on with the wedding night?‖ I kissed him, hard and full on the mouth, my tongue just ever-so-slightly stroking into his mouth in a tease. He groaned and flipped us both over in the rugs, and suddenly I was on my back beneath him, and his body was over mine. ―This is what you want?‖ The crux of his hips pressed against mine, his cock hard against the vee of my thighs, leaving no doubt as to what he suggested. In response, I twined my arms around his neck and drew his face down to mine again.

―More than anything.‖ The kiss was soft, slow, lingering, full of promise. I wanted more than just that— we‘d been teasing each other with stolen kisses for weeks, and the interlude in the nest made me hungry for more. So I pressed my hips up against his suggestively. ―Maybe we take these clothes off?‖ The next few minutes were a flurry of undressing—me first, since mine were easier to shuck, and then when I was naked, I reached for his breechcloth. He hesitated for a moment, and I knew he was thinking about asking me again if I was certain, so I reached for the knife he kept strapped to his back and pulled it out. ―Hold still so I can cut this thing off of you.‖ He chuckled, closing a hand over mine. ―That is not necessary, Diana.‖ ―Better safe than sorry,‖ I said, unwilling to give an inch. ―I‘m not letting you stop this again.‖ But I let him pry the knife out of my hands, and in the next moment, I heard the sharp snap of cloth knots ripping, and warm fabric fell against my leg. I slid my hands experimentally downward, looking for his body in the dark, and my hands met with nothing but smooth, hard buttock. I gave a sigh of delight at that. ―You feel wonderful.‖ He pressed his hot length against my sex, rubbing against the curls there and burying his face in my neck. ―So do you.‖ I dug my fingernails into his back. ―Now you‘re just teasing me.‖ Salvador hissed with pain at my touch. I remembered the scratches and let go. ―Sorry—― He rolled his hips against mine in a delicious surge, and the rest of the apology

escaped my head, and I lost track of everything but the delicious feel of his body wedged against mine. ―Belleza, ‖ he said against my throat, breathing heavily. ―I do not think I can go slow...once we start.‖ He was asking me if it was okay to lose control. I smiled into the darkness and lifted my legs around his hips in response, opening fully to him. My hands went to his shoulders once more, pulling him down on top of me. ―I want you, Salvador,‖ I said. ―Fast or slow.‖ Salvador gave a thick groan, and I felt the head of his erection poised against the entrance of my body, and I shuddered with anticipation. It felt like I‘d been waiting forever for this. Then in one swift motion, Salvador buried his cock in my body, and I gasped at the mix of pain and pleasure that shot through me. He groaned as if he were the one in pain, and I loosened my grip on his shoulders—I hadn‘t realized I was digging my fingernails in again. ―Sorry,‖ I said again, sliding my fingers up to twine in his hair. He didn‘t respond, just withdrew slowly, slowly, and then thrust hard back into me again. This time, I was ready for the feeling, and my gasp of pleasure turned into a low moan of my own. I locked my legs around his hips and rose them to meet his next thrust, encouraging him with my body. Still, he paused again, and the wonderful sensations ebbed away, and I began to wonder if something was wrong. Oh Lord, what if he was upset that I wasn‘t a virgin? ―I‘m sorry,‖ I blurted out suddenly. ―I‘m sorry I‘m not a virgin.‖ ―Belleza,‖ he said, his voice exasperated and straining, ―Quit apologizing to me.‖ ―Then quit stopping,‖ I said, lifting my hips to grind suggestively. ―I want this,

Salvador! Stop torturing me.‖ With that, he lost all control. I heard a low growl in his throat, and he thrust into me roughly, to my vast delight. I loved the feel of him on me, and encouraged it when he thrust hard and rough again. This was what I wanted, all of him, losing control. I wanted to see him as wild as he made me. My hands slid down to his buttocks and I clenched them, trying to drive him deeper into me with every thrust, encouraging him with low, hoarse cries of his name. Harder and harder, faster and faster, Salvador thrust into me, to the point where I was no longer actively encouraging him to lose control, but had lost it myself. My sharp, high little cries of pleasure filled the small cave surrounding us, but I couldn‘t stop, no more than he could stop his endless, frenzied thrusting into my body. My hips met his with each motion, and I could hear him growl my name on his lips with every hard rocking motion that made me quiver. Though we‘d had little-to-no foreplay, I‘d long since become lost in the sensations of Salvador‘s body rocking into mine, and my body tightened on its way to climax. When I shattered, I didn‘t care that I was digging my fingernails into the furrowed scratches on his shoulder, or that I was yelling something like ―Oh God!‖ into his ear at the top of my lungs, or that anyone might have heard it. All I knew was that moment, when Salvador thrust into me again and tore me over that edge into bliss. He followed not two moments later, with a rough jerky thrust and a shout of his own. I came down after a time, panting, realizing that Salvador had collapsed on top of me—his weight was delicious—and that from the force of our pounding, the blankets had been shoved completely behind us and my head was wedged rather uncomfortably

against the rock wall of the cave. Still, Salvador‘s breath brushed gently against my nipple, and I didn‘t have the heart to disturb him. Instead of complaining, I just wrapped my arms around him and basked in my happiness. ―I love you, Diana,‖ he said quietly into the darkness. ―I love you too,‖ I said, my heart swelling in my breast, and I meant it.

#

When Eustace and Olivia didn‘t return right away, we tidied the small bed and then dropped right back into it, under the covers this time, and spent a long, slow afternoon exploring each other and making love. I bathed his lovely body with a damp cloth, mindful of his scratches, and just that simple act was enough to get me all bothered once more, especially when he spent the entire time trying to kiss every inch of my skin, until we were both breathless with the wonder of it all. When we heard Eustace and Olivia return, I was in the middle of a raging climax, and my cries were swallowed by Salvador‘s mouth, and in turn, I swallowed his when he came a moment later. We lay panting in each other‘s arms as quietly as possible, still dazed from the sensations. ―Salvador! Diana,‖ I heard Olivia‘s feet pat on the cave floor as she ran towards our room, and as one we both ducked for the blankets. ―You should come and see the kittens! They‘re so –― ―Livvy!‖ Eustace‘s voice was sharp, nearly strangled. ―Let them have their privacy. They‘ll come out soon enough.‖ Lord, but the man sounded embarrassed. No doubt he

was imagining all the dirty, smutty things we were doing to each other behind the curtain. And he‘d have been right. I thought their return might be an end to our playful, sensual afternoon, but to my surprise, Salvador began to kiss me again. ―But, the others,‖ I said, nearly losing my mind when he slid his hand between us and coaxed the sensitive bud between my legs. A startled, gasping moan broke my lips and Salvador shushed me with a kiss. ―They will not enter our room, belleza.‖ There was a certain dangerous, exciting element to making love in the cave with the others just a short span of rock away, and the third time I climaxed, I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood, and when Salvador came down to kiss me, I bit his too. ―You are like a little wildcat,‖ he teased me in my ear later, as we lay recovering. ―Wildcat!‖ I said, sitting up and clutching the blankets around me. ―My kitten!‖ I could hear Olivia‘s giggles of delight from the far end of the cave and I gave Salvador a kiss of happiness. ―Thank you for my present, love, though I‘ll kill you if you ever try something so dangerous again.‖ His hands slid around my waist, caressing my flesh even as I tried to dress. The man couldn‘t seem to get enough now that we‘d broken the dam of his reticence. ―It wasn‘t dangerous.‖ I snorted. ―Says the man covered in cat scratches and with a twisted ankle. Tell me again it‘s not dangerous?‖ ―It is not,‖ he insisted, ―Unless one startles the cat.‖ The slow, deliberate way he said it made me pause, and I looked over at him. ―Eustace?‖ I whispered, not wanting the sound to carry.

Salvador agreed, a low chuckle in his throat. ―Eustace is many things, but a great, silent hunter, he is not.‖ ―Well, no more courting presents, even if you go after them by yourself, do you hear me?‖ ―I hear you, belleza,‖ he said, amusement in his voice, and kissed me again before I emerged from the cave. I‘m quite sure the two of us looked a fright when we emerged. My hair was a tangled, snarled mess on my head, and Salvador‘s breechcloth had been ripped on one side and reknotted. My clothes were spattered with his blood, and he had new, fresh gouges in his arms and a cut on his lip from where I‘d bitten him so hard. His green eyes had a lazy, satisfied look in them that nearly took my breath away, though, and he looked content. Eustace was bent over the dead cat carcass, butchering it into large hunks of meat, and Olivia stood off to the side, playing with the kittens, letting them chase a scrap of vine. Harold sat near the fire, slowly turning the spit. All of them stared at us when we emerged, tousled and damp with sweat. I stood there awkwardly, arms crossed over my chest, wondering what—if anything—that I could say. Eustace was my savior. He gestured at the carcass. ―Well, Salvador,‖ he said. ―It‘s not going to skin itself, now is it?‖ Salvador chuckled and hobbled over to his side, favoring his ankle. I hurried over with a stool and insisted on wrapping Salvador‘s ankle before he went any further, and the men did their best to ignore my fussing administrations. ―Diana,‖ Olivia called. ―Come and play with the kittens! They‘re so marvelous!‖ She giggled again, so full of light and happiness that it made me smile as well, and I sat down

next to her. And that was that.

Chapter Nine

―Give that back!‖ I chased after the playful kitten through the cave, amidst Olivia‘s giggles of delight. The darn thing had my bikini top and was dragging it all around the cave, fighting the material with the long incisors that jutted from his lips. ―Sigfried! Give that back!‖ ―He‘s not listening to you,‖ Olivia noted, stroking her kitten, Roy, where he curled up on her lap. ―Perhaps you could sneak up on him?‖ I looked over at her in annoyed disgust, watching as Beau calmly batted at a nearby coconut. ―Why is it that I got the fierce one and you got the nice, sweet, calm one?‖ She grinned and just hugged her kitten closer to her. I‘d seen a real transformation in Olivia since her brother had returned and the kittens had arrived. She smiled all the time now, and laughed, and the cave had never been such a happy place. Even Eustace had come out of his sulk, and Harold smiled, even though he never spoke. Me, I walked around like a dreamy idiot I was so happy. Sure, we lived in a cave, but the people were nice and Salvador...I sighed just thinking about him, and the kitten scampered out of reach again. Salvador took my breath away. He‘d taken my breath away again just last night, when he‘d— Olivia‘s laugh interrupted my dreamy, naughty thoughts. ―You seem slow this morning, Diana. Are you not getting enough rest?‖ I flushed beet-red at her innocent question and sat down near the fire, pretending to ignore the kitten as he dragged the bikini-top around, just waiting for me to take notice

again. ―I slept fine. Just odd dreams is all.‖ ―What sort of dreams?‖ I shrugged. ―Footprints, mostly. I always dream about footprints for some reason.‖ I still saw the crash site, with all it‘s terrible clarity, as clear as day in my mind. Olivia shrugged her thin shoulders. ―What do you suppose it is about them?‖ I didn‘t know. Even after weeks on the island, I still didn‘t know. Something about it bothered me, however, and it still lingered in the back of my mind. ―When do the boys get back?‖ I asked, trying to steer the conversation into safer territory. ―Soon, I hope,‖ she said, glancing anxiously at the palm canopy, where a thick rain spattered against it and left the entire cave in a muggy mist. ―They won‘t find anything in all this rain except mud and more mud.‖ I noticed the kitten had settled down to chew on my bikini-straps and I reached over and snatched it before he could get it again. ―Got it! Take that, Sigfried,‖ I said, and gave the kitten a rough scratch behind the ear in delight. ―You can‘t chew up my only swimsuit, you little beast, you.‖ The kitten purred at the scratching, and I petted him for a good long while before heading to the ledge out of worry again. I hated it when Salvador went out with Eustace. Most of the time the men went separately—to make the hunting faster—but today Eustace had wanted the company, and Salvador had obliged him, as he was still favoring his ankle and could not make his usual runs. To my relief, I saw them down below, a flurry of motion running along the slick paths that led to our cave. I lowered the rope ladder and leaned over the edge, waving, as they

approached. A nice fat island mammal—the size of a gopher—hung over Eustace‘s shoulder, enough for all of us to eat on tonight. ―Careful at the ledge,‖ Eustace called up. ―It‘s slippery when it rains.‖ I stepped back, watching as the two men slid in the trampled mud down below, made slushy due to the two days of rains we‘d had. Eustace‘s long, pale toes cut into the mud, and I watched it squish between them, wrinkling my nose. Yuck. And froze when he lifted his foot and I saw the perfect impression of five rounded toes, followed by the body of his foot. Images of the beach flashed through my mind, images that were so clear just last night. The dead pilot. The trample of footprints all around the wreckage. Some had been small, uneven at the top like the footprint Eustace had left below. Those had trailed all around the wreckage and disappeared into the thick jungle undergrowth. I saw in my mind, with perfect clarity, the crisp, rounded forefront of a print, and knew what had been bugging me all along. Someone had been wearing shoes, and had walked around the plane. One of the others—the stewardess, or Mr. Wingarde—were alive. My entire body trembled with that realization, and I suddenly felt so weak that I had to drop to the ground where I sat, and catch my breath. The cavemen must have rescued someone else. Someone from my small, doomed flight was alive. Someone else was out there, with the cavemen. What if the stewardess was still alive, and they were doing...awful things to her? I shuddered at the thought. I couldn‘t leave her like that. A gentle hand touched my chin, and I looked up into Salvador‘s concerned face.

―What is wrong?‖ I drew myself to my feet quickly and grabbed the oil lamp, lighting it by the fire. ―We need to talk for a minute, please.‖ Lamp in hand, I pulled him by the hand into our little back cave-nook. The others looked at us with interest, but no one followed us, and we were alone within moments. ―What is it?‖ Making sure the flap was down, I turned to him and set the oil lamp down in the corner on its stand. ―Salvador...‖ I fought the silly urge to wring my hands and cry. ―When you found me, did you see any of the others?‖ He shook his head. ―There were no others. You were the only one in the ship.‖ ―It wasn‘t a ship, it was a plane,‖ I said irritably, then put my hands over my face when I realized I was snapping at him. ―I‘m sorry. I‘m sorry. I just...‖ I took a deep breath to compose myself. ―I was on that plane with four people. Two men and a woman. And I think at least one of them was still alive when the plane crashed.‖ When he said nothing, I peeked through my fingers over at him and frowned. ―You‘re not surprised?‖ He pulled me into his arms and stroked my hair. ―Belleza, it does not matter now. You are here. You are safe. The terrible lizards cannot get you.‖ ―You‘re not listening to me,‖ I said in tearful frustration. ―Someone is out there—― ―Not any more,‖ he said, his voice surprisingly harsh. ―You know as well as I do that the creatures here are unforgiving. If they were alive when you landed, they are not alive now.‖ I sagged, realizing he was right, and shut my eyes. Try as I might, I couldn‘t get the

image of the footprints scattered in the sands out of my mind. There were both kinds, in my mental image—barefoot and otherwise. ―What if the cavemen—what if Bgha‘s people got to them? Couldn‘t we go save them?‖ ―No!‖ Salvador‘s reply was fierce. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of my arms. ―We must leave the cavemen alone! They must forget all about you. They are not to know that you are still here, or they will come after you.‖ ―I can‘t just leave the others,‖ I shouted. ―They are already dead!‖ He said back at me, his voice firm. ―I have seen men get up from a wreckage moments after hitting land, only to be devoured by the terrible lizards. They are dead, Diana, and there is nothing you can do about it! Do you understand me?‖ Stunned at his response, I rocked backward on my heels and jerked out of his arms. ―Don‘t touch me.‖ He dropped his hands, then ran one down his face, trying to compose himself. Silence fell between us, and utter silence on the other side of the curtain, which meant that everyone in the cave was listening as well. ―Diana, what you ask is dangerous,‖ he said quietly. ―We cannot stir Bgha and his men up again, not so soon after your capture. Leave them alone. Your friends are already dead.‖ With that, he stalked out of the small side-cave and shut the flap behind him, closing me in the darkness with only the lantern. I curled up on the blankets, thinking hard. Salvador wasn‘t even going to give this a try, and that made me upset. I understood his reasoning, sure. Underneath his angry bluster, he was terrified they‘d find me again somehow, and hurt me or take me away. But I knew, deep in my belly, I knew the stewardess or Mr. Wingarde was still alive—

had to be—and I just had to figure out a way to get there. If they were alive, the cavemen with Bgha would have them. I just needed to find out for myself. And I knew just who to hit up for help.

Chapter Ten

Still hurt by Salvador‘s refusal to help me, I didn‘t speak to him all evening, and we went to bed in silence. I woke up in the middle of the night with the insane urge to kiss him, just in case this was goodbye, and he‘d responded to my impromptu kiss. We‘d made love quietly, slowly, under the blankets, for hours. When I woke up the next morning, he was gone hunting, and Eustace was in the cave with Olivia. ―I‘m to take you girls to the bathing pool today,‖ Eustace said when he saw me, his voice gruff. Olivia seemed perfectly cheerful, but I knew from the odd way that Eustace was eyeing me that he had spoken to Salvador this morning and heard of our argument. He was right, of course. No sooner had we arrived at the bathing pool and Olivia knelt to wash her clothes, I pulled Eustace aside. ―What has Salvador said to you?‖ I asked. Eustace leaned on his spear and gave me a suspicious look. ―Why?‖ I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. ―Look. I have reason to believe that when I crashlanded here, that someone else survived, and I want to go looking for them.‖ The smug smirk on his face grew as I spoke, and I knew he‘d already discussed this with Salvador. ―That‘s impossible,‖ he said in a no-discussion-about-this tone. ―If you‘re by yourself on the beach, you pretty much done for.‖ ―I was alone,‖ I argued. ―I survived.‖ ―Sheer luck on your part,‖ he said, unmoved. ―I‘ve seen it happen too many times,

you can trust me on that. The only reason your man would have survived is if the natives got him, and the natives aren‘t big on us humans.‖ He gave me a sly look. ―So you‘d best forget all about your old beau, and make Salvador happy. He‘s like a brother to me, you know. He cares for you, so you‘d better be good to him.‖ ―What?‖ I blinked in surprise. ―I—what? No! No one is my ‗beau‘.‖ I gave him a disgusted look. ―Good lord. Wouldn‘t you want to save someone if you thought they were in danger?‖ ―I would,‖ he agreed, glancing over at his sister where she worked dutifully on the shore, pounding soap onto the wet clothes. ―If I thought they were still alive. But since I don‘t, I‘m not going to help you. Now hurry and do your laundry so we can head back to the caves.‖ What a dismissive, arrogant jerk. I was almost of a mind to tell him that he could stuff the laundry up his ass, but I forced myself to choke down the words. ―That‘s a shame, then,‖ I gritted out, trying to sound sad and pathetic. ―Because on the plane with me was a real pretty woman, about my age.‖ I shrugged idly, watching as he stiffened and rivted his attention back on me. ―Real sweet, too. Pretty blonde curls, freckles. You‘d have liked her. If she were alive, I bet she‘d be real happy for a rescue.‖ I gave him a pointed look. Oh, I had his attention now. Eustace blinked wide eyes at me, then glanced over at his sister again. ―Another woman?‖ I nodded. ―I can‘t leave her in the hands of the caveme—the natives. I can only imagine the terrible things they‘re doing to her.‖ I watched him, waiting for him to respond. I could almost see the gears whirling in

his mind, and stark loneliness shone in his eyes. ―You‘re not lying to me, are you?‖ His voice was slightly hoarse, and he cleared it once, then grew angry. ―Because if you are, that is a horrible thing to torment a man with—― Pity surged through me, but I tamped it down. No time to be weakened by other emotions—I needed to take his reaction and use it for my plan. I raised my hands defensively, remaining calm despite my growing excitement. He‘d fallen for the bait— not that it was bait. I wasn‘t lying. ―There were four people on my plane,‖ I repeated. ―Myself, the stewardess, and two men. I found the pilot, dead, and I never found any trace of the other two, but I remember seeing their footprints on the shore. I think Bgha‘s people have them.‖ A serious, fervent look came over his face. ―If the natives have them, they could be…in danger.‖ I knew he was thinking of the same thing I was, and I remembered Bgha‘s dirty hand on my thigh with a shudder. ―Now do you see why I want to rescue them?‖ He glanced over at Olivia, then back at me. ―We‘ll have to plan to leave while Salvador is gone. Tomorrow, when Olivia‘s safe and back at the caves...‖ He bent his head close to mine and we began to plot.

#

The next morning, when Olivia was busy cleaning the dishes so she could return to the sewing, I rubbed my stomach and gave her a bright smile. ―You know what would be good today?‖

She gave me a cautious look. ―What?‖ ―One of those green and red sour fruits. I‘ve been totally craving one for the past few days.‖ She wrinkled her nose in distaste, as I knew she would. ―You like those?‖ Actually, I didn‘t, but I pretended to. ―I do! They‘d be perfect this morning with a little of your fermented wine.‖ ―If you say so,‖ she said dubiously. Then, ―The bushes close to here are stripped, though. It‘s a good half-hour‘s walk in the other direction for the closest ones.‖ That was Eustace‘s cue. I glanced over at him where he sat near the fire, idly sharpening a spear. ―Fruit does sound rather tasty,‖ he agreed, and I near about fainted with relief. ―I‘ll take you if you wish to get some.‖ ―Great,‖ I enthused, heading to the lip of the cave and letting the rope ladder down and trying not to let my hands shake and give away my nervousness. But Olivia didn‘t suspect a thing, not even when Eustace grabbed a second spear and tossed the leather strap over his head and slung it on his back, and we both went down the ladder, chattering loudly about silly things such as the weather. I mean, it was a tropical island. The weather hardly ever changed. As soon as we were out of hearing range, Eustace glanced backward at the cave and grunted with relief. ―She‘s pulled up the ladder. Let‘s go.‖ He handed me one of the spears. ―Think you can keep up? It‘s going to be a hard run from here to the far side of the island.‖ I clutched at the weapon with sweaty palms, nodding at him. ―I‘m ready.‖ We set off then, skirting around the camp and then heading back in the other

direction. I suggested that we follow the beach, but Eustace was smart enough to shoot down my idea—we‘d be in plain sight for miles, and the idea was to scope out the camp before we made any rash decisions. The run was hard work—I‘d forgotten the long, yucky trek through the jungle when I was with Salvador, because he‘d made it as easy on me as he could. Eustace had no such compulsions, and he‘d stop to give me impatient looks every time I slowed down. I trailed behind him, panting hard, and dodging the tree branches that he shoved aside—but wouldn‘t hold aside—for me. The sun was high in the skies and hot, and we only had one water-skin between the two of us. Every time I‘d pause for a rest-break, Eustace would shoot me an impatient look. ―If we don‘t keep going, Salvador will catch up with us.‖ I paused to bend over, hands on my knees as I panted. I‘d long since hiked my skirts up and knotted them around my thighs so they wouldn‘t be in the way, and I used part of the hem to dab my sweaty forehead. ―We‘re a half a day ahead of him, Eustace. How‘s he going to get to us?‖ He gave me an openly skeptical look. ―You don‘t believe me? Tell me, then, where did your craft land on the shore?‖ I described the area, in particular the rocky outcropping. ―And how many days was it before Salvador arrived?‖ I thought of the sweet story he‘d told about seeing my flare that first night. ―Less than a day,‖ I admitted. ―What you described is a good two-day walk from our cave, so don‘t underestimate the man. He‘d do anything to keep you safe from harm, and he‘s going to kill me if he

catches us. Understand?‖ I struggled upright and tried not to groan as he took off into the brush again. ―I understand,‖ I mumbled. I only prayed that I was right, and we wouldn‘t be too late to save anyone.

#

The sun went down, and with it, my energy. By the time I was ready to collapse, Eustace slowed and shushed me. The rocky cliffs that had seemed so distant before were very close, and we carefully skirted around them. ―The natives,‖ he said, since he wouldn‘t use my term of ‗caveman‘, ―dwell in the rocks like we do, but near the ground. We need to find where they are located before it gets dark.‖ ―What about cook fires?‖ I reasoned. He shook his head, not even bothering to look over at me, intently scanning the crumbling rock walls. ―They don‘t know how to use fire.‖ We both froze as a familiar angry, animal bellow broke through the underbrush, and I clutched my spear tighter. ―Was that...‖ My voice was a choked whisper. ―The terrible lizard,‖ Eustace agreed. ―It‘s close to here, somewhere.‖ He shook his head, his brows furrowing. ―That‘s odd that the creature would be on this part of the island. It never used to venture this far inland.‖ ―Maybe it‘s had a few good meals around here,‖ I said, huddling closer to Eustace and hunching down to make myself smaller. ―Do you think it‘s eating the cavemen?‖ ―Not likely,‖ he said, ruffling his hair in anxiety. ―Blast. This puts a kink in our plans.

We‘ll have to be careful.‖ ―How close is it?‖ I couldn‘t stop staring into the woods, waiting to see a glimpse of too-big teeth and too-tiny arms. We both listened. The T-Rex called again, this time a bit quieter than before. ―Not so close,‖ Eustace said after a moment. ―Maybe a few leagues away, but it runs fast. Just be on the lookout for other lizards it flushes our way.‖ Great. Just what we needed, more dinosaurs. We kept to the heavy underbrush, circling around the cavemen‘s camp. Eustace waved me into a heavy clump of fern-like bushes, and indicated that I should stay put. ―If you see one of the lizards, stay still. I‘m going to circle around and disguise our scentpath.‖ He gestured at the rocky wall. ―See if you can determine how many of them dwell there, and stay put and out of sight. Understand?‖ ―You don‘t have to tell me twice,‖ I whispered, and he took off, leaving me in a momentary panic. What if he left me here? What if the cavemen found me? I forced myself to suck it up and concentrate on studying the cave, glancing back every once in a while where Eustace had disappeared. Sure enough, I‘d catch a quick glimpse of him every now and then as he dragged a branch behind him on the trail, and I could smell the faint tangy scent of the broken leaves, and knew he was as good as his word. He wasn‘t leaving me behind. Eustace was in this for the long haul. That made me feel better. I could hear the chatter of the cavemen in the distance, a curious mix of made-up words and grunts, and crept a bit closer. They huddled near the mouth of a cave, squatting in the dirt and digging through a mess of rotten, discarded fruit. The front of their cave was a trashy nightmare. I saw a half-eaten carcass of a giant rat off to one side,

and cringed as a caveman-child ran out of the cave and picked it up, picking at the flesh and taking bites. No sign of Mr. Wingarde or the stewardess. I tried not to feel disappointed, but the bitter feeling in the back of my throat kept rising. I swallowed to keep my throat clear before I puked in disappointment and resolved to try and count the cavemen instead. They wandered in and out of the entrance of their small, ragged cave (ours was so much nicer), but I counted maybe thirty individual cavemen. Idly, I wondered how old they were—ageless, like Salvador? Or did things on this island still bear young? I glanced over at the caveman-child eating the rat and wrinkled my nose. That didn‘t tell me a thing, unfortunately. Olivia had been twelve years old for almost two hundred years. I sucked in a breath as Bgha appeared at the front of the cave—I recognized that angry, heavy brow and the thick puff of hairy beard. Seeing him made me filled with a low rage, and I remembered how he‘d treated me, and hoped that the stewardess wasn‘t suffering the fate that had been intended for me. Bgha scratched his stomach and strutted about the small, dirty camp, and I wondered if he was in charge of the entire cave, and not just the group I‘d met him with. As I watched, he walked up to another squatting caveman and stole the food out of his hand with an angry hiss of words. Clearly Bgha was the one in charge. One of the cavemen got up and picked up a few of the discarded fruit rinds, barking something to the others, and then wandered away from camp. I watched him curiously, wondering what he was up to, but I stayed put. No way was I leaving the safety of my hiding spot without Eustace. A hand touched my arm, and I was so intent on concentrating on the cavemen that I

nearly screamed in fright. ―Are you all right?‖ Eustace whispered at me. I nodded. ―Just surprised.‖ ―How many did you count?‖ ―Thirty,‖ I whispered. ―Though I could have counted wrong. They all started to look alike after a while.‖ He nodded, then inclined his head off to the side. ―Follow me. I think I‘ve found something.‖ He handed me a handful of pulpy leaves. ―Rub this all over you to disguise the scent. The cavemen rub themselves with it because the dinosaurs don‘t like the smell, so it‘ll serve our purpose doubly.‖ I did as he instructed, pulping the leaves in my hand and then rubbing the acridsmelling leaves all over. It smelled like a cross between eucalyptus and piss, and I didn‘t care for it at all. My eyes watered at the smell, but I noticed Eustace applying the same, so I didn‘t complain. ―Follow me,‖ he said finally, ―But be very quiet. This is going to be dangerous.‖ He turned and hunched over, keeping low and heading back through the underbrush. I clutched my spear even closer at that admission and tried not to panic. ―I‘m with you,‖ I said, and followed him. We crept away from the camp, far enough that we were in the thick of the jungle again and I couldn‘t hear the cavemen anymore. We were probably a mile away from their camp when Eustace put a hand on my arm and bade me to pause. Ahead of us was a small clearing. I didn‘t see any of Bgha‘s tribe, but I did see a scatter of old fruit rinds and camp trash that signified that they visited here often. There

was a dirt path that led into the clearing, and at the far end of it, I could make out a pair of carved wooden poles, off to one side. I had no idea what they were for, and gestured at them to Eustace. ―Should we go check them out?‖ I said. He shook his head and frowned at me. ―Wait. Something‘s not right.‖ We heard it a moment later; the ear-shattering roar of the Tyrannosaur, angry and alltoo-close nearby. I bit my lip hard to keep my teeth from chattering, and I felt Eustace tense next to me. ―Get into that bush,‖ he said, giving me a little shove and pushing me into the large, prickly bush we crouched behind. Nettles stung my skin and sliced at my palms when I fell forward into the plants, but before I could bitch at him, the heavy, thick noxious scent that we‘d rubbed ourselves with earlier surrounded me. Eustace might have been an ass, but he was a clever one. The dinosaur would never smell us in this thing. I shifted quietly in the bush as Eustace crouched next to me, and we watched and waited. Thump thump thump thump. On the far side of the clearing, something moved, and my heart thudded in my chest in time to the heavy footsteps. Thump thump. I recognized the lean, angry swish of the long tail, the heavy thighs and too-small forearms of the tyrannosaur as it entered the clearing. It paused, sniffing the air. Only Eustace‘s staying hand on my shoulder kept me from leaping up and running away in fright. I forced myself to try and calm down, because the creature wasn‘t even looking in our direction. Rather, he seemed to be sniffing around some leafy, low-lying bushes at the far end

of the clearing. He circled around, slowly, tail swishing in agitation like my kitten Sigfried‘s, and then bent low and roared loudly, fascinated with something on the ground we couldn‘t see. Just then, we heard it: a sharp, high pitched female scream that cut through the air and ended in a low, throbbing sob. Someone female was over there. Though I couldn‘t see them, there was no mistaking that voice. The tyrannosaur bent forward, trying to angle its large head toward the ground, but his body was all wrong, and all he could do was knock at the brush nearby and scatter it like playing cards. I glanced over at Eustace. He was brimming with excitement, a wild look in his eyes. ―There‘s a pit over there‖ he murmured low. ―He can‘t get to whoever is down there.‖ His fingers grew tight on his spear, and he trembled all over, looking for all the world like he was about to burst forth in excitement. ―It must be the stewardess,‖ I said, keeping my voice low and quiet. He nodded. Not that it mattered how quiet we were—the tyrannosaur was pitching a fit. He‘d realized that he couldn‘t get to whoever was down in the hole, and circled the pit, over and over again, long tail swishing like an angry cat. His bellows of anger filled the night air. We continued to watch the dinosaur as the minutes crawled past and I could breathe again, once I realized he couldn‘t eat the stewardess. I looked over at the tyrannosaur. His jaws clamped on a piece of brush that had been laid over the pit and he shook it like a dog would, flinging his head back and forth. Yikes.

―What do we do?‖ I looked over at Eustace, clutching my spear close. ―Should we charge him? Or try and distract him?‖ He gave me an odd look. ―Charge him? Are you mad?‖ ―Well, I can‘t think of any other way to get him away from there, can you?‖ I tried to keep the peevish note out of my voice and failed miserably. He gestured at the T-Rex. ―There is no chance in Hell that we could even hurt that thing. Even if Salvador was here.‖ Could he read minds? I flushed a little, because right now I was rather fervently wishing that Salvador was here. ―So what do we do?‖ ―We wait it out. Only thing we can do.‖ So we waited. Sitting in stinging nettles and reeking of eucalyptus-piss, we sat in the bushes and watched the pit as the tyrannosaur continued to circle around and around again. It was uncomfortable, cramped, and tense, but I felt like we were the lucky ones. The stewardess screamed every time the tyrannosaur bent his head close, even though he couldn‘t reach her. It took hours, but the tyrannosaur finally lost interest in the pit somewhere around daylight and eventually wandered away. We waited in the bushes for about a half-hour longer, just in case he decided to return. When there was no further signs of him, we stood stiffly and headed towards the pit. As we approached, I could see how the dinosaur couldn‘t manage to get in very well. The sides were muddy and slick, and extremely steep, like they‘d decided to carve a hole and never bothered with it after that. It was a deep hole too, and narrow—maybe only four feet across. I slid up to the edge and glanced around, not wanting the T-Rex to return

and then I‘d have to jump into the pit as well. Trash was strewn around the edge, as if whoever was down at the bottom of that dank, nasty hole had tossed it up. I could barely make out anything in that hole, and I glanced over at Eustace. Surely we hadn‘t imagined the screams? Eustace dug the heel of his spear into the soft ground to anchor himself, then leaned forward. ―Hello...is anyone down there?‖ A choked sob rose from the darkness, and I saw a filthy, dirty head rise up and realized whoever was down there had stood up. ―Who...who‘s there?‖ ―It‘s a trick,‖ came a hoarse, angry murmur. I recognized Mr. Wingarde‘s voice. They were both alive. Happiness shot through me. ―It‘s me,‖ I said, then felt stupid. Of course they wouldn‘t know who ‗me‘ was. ―Diana Holcomb, the realtor. Is that both of you from the plane?‖ ―Yes!‖ The woman‘s voice raised to a near shriek. ―It‘s me! Susan! Oh my god, Diana,‖ she screamed, her voice a hysterical mix. ―We thought you were dead! The cavemen—they...and the dinosaurs...and, oh my god! They‘ve left us down here.‖ Her voice trailed into noisy sobs again. ―Shut up, Susie,‖ Mr. Wingarde said harshly, and I glanced over at Eustace, watching his face darken. Someone was yelling at his woman, and that wouldn‘t do. I needed to defuse the situation before Eustace decided to rescue just one half of our survivors—the female half. ―Calm down, Mr. Wingarde,‖ I said in my best, Logical-Charming-Realtor voice. ―We‘re going to get you out of there. I promise.‖ I stepped around the pit and hurried over to Eustace‘s side and whispered. ―How do we get them out of there?‖

He thought for a moment, then glanced around. ―There‘s got to be some vines around here. We can twine them for strength and pull them up.‖ ―That sounds good,‖ I agreed. ―Let‘s go.‖ ―No!‖ came the sobbing cry from the pit, both voices raised in discordant harmony. Then, Susie spoke again. ―Don‘t leave us here, please...‖ My heart broke and tears threatened my eyes. Their terror ate at me, and I looked over at Eustace, keeping my voice low and calm. ―Should I stay?‖ He looked just as stricken as me. ―If you do, be careful that the terrible lizard doesn‘t come back, understand?‖ ―I‘ll be careful,‖ I assured him, and knelt down at the side of the pit. ―I won‘t leave you, Susie,‖ I said. ―I promise. We‘ll get you out of here.‖ ―What about me?‖ Mr. Wingarde‘s sulky voice rose up. I sighed. ―Of course we wouldn‘t leave you behind.‖ Susie continued to cry quietly as I hovered near the edge of the pit, clutching my spear and looking around with nervous eyes, expecting to see a dinosaur come charging at me. To my relief, though, the only dinosaurs I saw were the duck-billed ones, and I‘d learned to ignore those cow-like creatures long ago. As we waited for Eustace to return, Susie sobbed out their entire story to me, randomly interrupted by terse, angry interjections by Mr. Wingarde. They‘d woken up at the crash site, covered in bruises and bumps, but otherwise alive. They hadn‘t seen me (since I was two beaches away), and assumed I was dead like the pilot. Hungry, frightened, and blistering under the intense island sun, they‘d taken to the jungles and had been captured in a net by the cavemen.

For the past month or so, they‘d been living down in this hole. One of the males had tried to touch Susie, but when she‘d fought him and knocked him unconscious, they decided that she was bad luck and stuck her in the pit with Mr. Wingard. I felt guilty that I‘d been living in safety, eating good things and enjoying the company of others, and falling in love with a hunky conquistador while they‘d suffered. ―We‘re going to get you out of here,‖ I assured them. ―And then we‘re going to take you home. There‘s a small group of castaways living on the far side of the island, and they‘ll treat you well. Trust me.‖ ―Thank you,‖ Susie sobbed up at me. ―Oh, thank you, Diana.‖ Just when I‘d begun to get nervous about how long this was all taking, Eustace returned with the makeshift rope, his forehead beaded with sweat. ―Sorry about the delay,‖ he said, panting. ―I had to avoid a few of the flock-lizards that were in the area. I‘ve never seen anything like it—there are more of the great lizards here in this area than on our side of the island.‖ He shook his head. ―Agitated, too. It‘s almost like they‘re waiting to be fed.‖ ―Who cares if they‘re waiting?‖ Mr. Wingarde called up. ―They‘re lurking around camp all the time. We can‘t wait for them to leave, because there won‘t be a time. ‖ My eyes widened and I exchanged a worried look with Eustace. That didn‘t sound good. ―Let‘s hurry this up, then,‖ Eustace said, lowering down the rope. I hurried to his side to take the other end, bracing myself and readying to pull them up. ―We need to get them and get out of here.‖ We both felt the first heavy tug of the rope when the first grimy hand grasped it. ―Tie

it around your waist,‖ Eustace instructed, bracing himself. Before long, Susie‘s shaky voice crawled up the hole. ―Ready.‖ I gave the rope an experimental tug, and winced. Lord, but it was heavy. ―Tell me when you‘re ready to pull, Eustace,‖ I said, wrapping the braided vines around my hands. He didn‘t answer. Instead, he dropped the rope. In surprise, I looked up from the rope and stared across the pit, into the cunning black eyes of Bgha. The caveman stood across from us, a horrible grin on his face. He clutched his spear and behind him stood a dozen other cavemen, all angry and armed. Bgha looked me up and down, and suddenly smiled. It chilled me. ―Bgha meh.‖

Chapter Eleven

All I could think was thank God for Eustace. Once Bgha had made his little announcement and stared me down, Eustace stepped up to the plate. He pushed me gently behind him, hiding me from the angry cavemen. ―Not yours,‖ he argued. ―Salvador meh.‖ He drew three straight lines on his forehead. ―Salvador.‖ Bgha spit in anger. ―Sav dor na meh! Na meh! Bgha meh.‖ I could hear Susie begin to cry again, down in the hole, and felt Eustace falter. Uneasy and uncertain what else to do, I leaned into Eustace. ―Could we trade them something? In exchange for the prisoners?‖ Eustace shook his head. ―I left everything valuable back at camp.‖ ―Well, think of something,‖ I said, trying not to hiss at him in frustration. ―We can‘t leave them here now that we‘ve found them. There‘s got to be something we can do, even if we have to run all the way back to camp to get it.‖ The cavemen grew annoyed with our low conversation, and Bgha started spitting words at Eustace, words that I didn‘t understand. Eustace glanced back at me, and at my nod, he handed me his spear and spread his hands, indicating that he meant no harm. He spoke in a low, calm tone, in the language of the cavemen. The guttural words sounded nonsensical to me, but Bgha appeared to be listening closely to him. And when Eustace gestured at the hole, Bgha nodded.

―Chi’nga meh na su de meh vulah.‖ It was the longest phrase I‘d ever heard Bgha utter, and my heart thudded when he pointed at me. ―De me vulah, tu chi’n meh.‖ ―Out of the question,‖ Eustace snapped. ―What?‖ I said. ―What does he want?‖ He turned back to me, an angry, dark look on his face. ―He‘ll exchange the two of them for you.‖ Dread coiled through me, but I replied instantly, the only way I could reply. ―Let‘s do it, then.‖ ―Are you mad?‖ Eustace shook his head at me. ―I‘m not going to leave you here with them. Look at how poorly they‘ve treated these two. And Bgha has something against you...some sort of personal vendetta I don‘t understand.‖ He shook his head again, vehemently. ―I can‘t do it.‖ Susie began to cry again, down below, and it nearly broke my heart. ―We can‘t leave them,‖ I said, anguished. I grabbed Eustace‘s hands. ―Look. You just leave me here with Bgha like we‘re going to do the trade, okay?‖ I glanced over at the caveman leader, where he watched us from across the pit. His dirty head was cocked to one side as he regarded us, his brows drawn down in a scowl when he couldn‘t understand what we were saying. ―Ridiculous—― Eustace began again. I cut him off. ―Salvador won‘t leave me behind,‖ I said. ―You know that‘s true as well as I do. Leave me here for the night, and go back and get him. Trade something else for me and rescue me, and the only thing I‘ll have to do is spend a night here in the caveman camps. It‘s a good plan,‖ I pleaded, dreading the outcome of this.

I didn‘t want to spend the night here. I didn‘t want the others to leave without me, but I didn‘t have a choice. I couldn‘t, in good conscience, leave the others behind. So I smiled brightly and tried to make it seem like it wasn‘t so bad. Eustace wasn‘t fooled. He was clearly torn between my ‗brave‘ face and Susie‘s pathetic sobbing below. He glanced over at Bgha, and then back at me. His face was tight. ―I don‘t like the way he looks at you, Diana. How can I face Salvador if I let you get hurt?‖ I shook my head. ―I‘ll be fine. Trust me. I can handle myself.‖ ―You‘re decided on this, then?‖ Hell no, I wasn‘t decided. I wanted to run away, scream, shout, cry, anything to get me out of this fate. But I sucked it up and kept the bright smile on my face. ―Let‘s do this. Remember, bring Salvador as soon as you can.‖ He nodded, and glanced back at Bgha. ―Diana tu meh.‖ He pointed at the hole. ―Tu meh.‖ It was done. I ignored the unholy glee that crossed Bgha‘s small, animalistic features, forcing myself to become numb to everything. What would it take for Salvador to get here? A day? Maybe two? Tops? Piece of cake. So when the cavemen gathered around me and poked me with their crude spears, I meekly followed their lead. And when they helped Eustace pull the half-starved, filthy Susie out of the hole, and Mr. Wingate‘s scowling but emaciated form free, and Susie showered Eustace with thankful kisses, I didn‘t flinch. And when they disappeared into the jungle, both of them weakened and clinging to

Eustace‘s strong form, I didn‘t cry then either. I was too numb to cry. I‘d done the right thing, I repeated to myself over and over again. I‘d saved two lives. Even if Bgha had in his mind to torture me with hot sticks, or try to rape me, I‘d saved two lives, and it was worth it. To my shame, big fat tears slid down my face as soon as Eustace and the others were out of sight.

#

―Meh! Meh ito, f’sbah.‖ A grubby hand shoved rotten fruit my way. I wrinkled my nose and pushed it aside. ―Gross. I am not eating that just because you found it on the ground and think that makes it worthy captive food. Think again.‖ Bgha grew angry and drew a fist back, but I ignored him, huddled in the back of their cave with my arms wrapped around myself. The cavemen had retreated back into their cave for the evening, and they‘d forced me to go along with them. It was common sense; no sooner had we headed to the back of the small, dank cave, than I heard the roar of the tyrannosaur. I‘d figured out why the dinosaurs seemed so plentiful on this side of the island; Bgha and his people were absolute slobs. One would catch a small island mammal to eat (I didn‘t call them rats for my own personal sense of pride) and would pick at the entrails, eating the tastiest parts, and then tossing it aside for others to eat the remains. The result was a plentitude of half-eaten dead animals around the campsite, and the stench attracted predators.

I huddled in the back of the cave with Bgha and the others. He‘d tried nothing all afternoon—much to my surprise—and seemed more focused on bragging to the others that he‘d caught me rather than molesting me. Maybe it was a pride thing. At any rate, they‘d had a long, noisy celebration and then one by one, dropped off to sleep. There was no posted guard; they didn‘t think that far ahead. It didn‘t matter, because I couldn‘t leave anyhow. Even if I managed to sneak out of the cave—and every square foot of space was covered by a snoring caveman or cavegirl—there was still endless acres of jungle crawling with hungry dinosaurs. No, I was pretty much stuck. I must have drifted off to sleep at some point, because the next thing I knew, someone was touching my knee. I woke with a start, squinting at the bright light that streamed in through the cave entrance, and looked over at Bgha in surprise. He slid his hand further up my knee, growing bolder. I slapped it away. He put it back, his fingers digging into my thigh. His expression was obvious—he wanted a piece of me, and he wanted it now. I stood abruptly, sliding away from him and down the wall, trying to edge out of the cave. I‘d take my chances with the dinosaurs at this point. He wouldn‘t be deterred. Bgha followed me, and as I stumbled away from him, he reached for my skirt and gave it a hard rip. The aged, worn material tore. For some reason, it didn‘t upset me as much as it made me blisteringly mad. I turned, curled my fingers into a fist, and smacked him in the jaw as hard as I could. It turned out to not be very hard, but my fingers felt numb, and I gasped in pain. The camp had gotten silent around us, and I saw the others staring at me in shock, and I knew

I‘d crossed some sort of line. I‘d put a hand on their leader. Oops. Within moments, Bgha had a fisted handful of my hair and dragged me across the campsite, shouting angry words at me. I couldn‘t make out what he was saying, but I fought back, struggling to free myself and wincing with every hair torn from my scalp. The other cavemen surrounded us, hooting and pelting me with mud and rotten fruit. He dragged me across the grounds near the cave, and despite my protests, through the woods. I fought, kicking and screaming the entire time, but it didn‘t do much good— Bgha ignored any and all hits from my fists and the other cavemen that surrounded us made sure that I kept moving, no matter how much I lagged behind. When I fell down completely in an effort to thwart him, he struck me in the temple, so hard that stars flew and the world weaved crazily around me. Blinded with pain, dazed and confused, I didn‘t notice when we stopped at first. Rough hands grabbed my wrists and tied cords to them, so tight the tips of my fingers began to tingle. My second hand was jerked outward and lashed as well, and it was then that I realized what they were doing. We were back in the clearing, my wrists lashed to each one of the posts that we‘d seen, and I was trapped. I jerked at my wrists again, ignoring the vibration of pain that it shot through my arm, but it was no use. They were lashed tight, and I couldn‘t get away. Bgha slid around me, his hands touching my legs. ―Cgo na meh,‖ he said slyly, looking up at me and putting his hand on my leg. The message was clear. If I wanted to behave, I could go home with him. I sent him a clear message of my own, kicking at him and yelling an obscenity.

Bgha barked something else at me, then turned to his followers. ―Cho sayn,‖ he bellowed. ―Cho sayn!‖ They repeated his words, and as I watched, they brought a feast of half-eaten dead animals from around the cave and laid them at my feet. ―Ew, gross!‖ I kicked at the corpses, scattering them as far away as I could, but they neatly stacked them out of my reach, repeating ―Cho sayn‖ over and over again. Bgha continued to smirk at me, watching the ceremony. My skin began to crawl as they ignored me, busily intent on laying the half-eaten carcasses in a perfect circle around me. What was this, some kind of ceremony? Was it enough to frighten me, and then they‘d move me to the pit soon enough? I glanced over at it, on the far end of the clearing, and tightened my lips. Well, if the others had endured it for a month, I could certainly endure it for a day or so, until Salvador got here. Just thinking about him brought tears to my eyes. No doubt he was frantic with worry over my well-being. Either that, or he was furious at me. I bit my lip at that. I hoped he wasn‘t going to stay away an extra day or two just to teach me a lesson. Thump thump thump thump. I froze, my heart clenching high in my throat. I glanced around at the trees at the far end of the clearing, but I didn‘t see anything. Still, it wasn‘t a coincidence. It was never a coincidence. The cavemen erupted into shrieks of glee, scattering to the wind like errant children. Bgha looked over at me one last, smug time, and then ran as well, his spear clutched in hand. ―Hey!‖ I called after him. ―Let me go! The T-rex is coming!‖

But he didn‘t look back. Instead, he melted into the underbrush, leaving me alone with nothing but a bunch of dead animals. Thump thump thump thump. I froze in place, hoping that if I didn‘t move, he‘d never notice I was there and would continue on his merry little way. I shut my eyes and prayed fervently that he wasn‘t going to appear behind me, because then I‘d never see it coming. Thump thump. Then came the roar of angered, primal outrage, so close my teeth chattered. My eyes flew open, and I saw the T-Rex, standing across the clearing, tail swishing like an angry cat. He was coming for me. I screamed, then. It wasn‘t the smartest thing to do, or something that would get me results, but all I could think about was getting away, and I screamed and screamed and jerked at my bonds. They held tight. Of course they would. Life was not fair—never fair—and it was about to be over. Frightened tears rolled down my face, and my screams died to a choked sob as the tyrannosaur slowly turned my way, sniffing the air. Maybe it‘d be fast. Maybe he‘d eat me whole, and Salvador would never see the halfeaten body parts sure to be left behind. Maybe he wouldn‘t cry for me. Maybe Susie would take my place, and he‘d be happy with her like he was with me. A fierce stab of jealousy shot through me at the thought. I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for the end. ―Diana! Belleza! Don‘t move!‖ Oh, that sweet, glorious voice. My eyes flew open and I scanned the clearing.

―Salvador?‖ ―Don‘t move,‖ he called again, and as I watched, his lean, tanned body stepped out in front of the tyrannosaur, sword in one hand and spear in the other. If I thought I‘d been afraid before, my heart stopped cold in my chest at the sight. He was so small up against the large tyrannosaur—he barely cleared the stunted front paws. The jaws were massive, though, and they snapped at him as he approached. ―Salvador, no,‖ I cried, jerking at my bonds and writhing desperately. I didn‘t want him to risk his life for me. It didn‘t matter what I said. He stepped in front of the creature and held out his sword, like a knight readying for battle. The creature leaned in and bellowed at him, gaping jaws showing the dagger-like teeth, and I cringed. Salvador didn‘t flinch, though. Instead, he threw the spear at that gaping mouth. It hit the mark, and the creature‘s jaws snapped shut on the spear. The end splintered off, but the rest of it was firmly lodged in his cheek, and as I watched, the T-Rex shook his head back and forth, trying to dislodge the painful sting. He roared again, tiny foreclaws batting at his mouth, and shook his head. So engrossed in watching this, I didn‘t notice that Salvador had ran to my side until his hands touched mine, and he began to saw at my bonds. ―Salvador,‖ I said, sobbing his name. ―What are you doing here?‖ ―Rescuing my bride,‖ he said tersely, glancing over at the dinosaur as it lashed its head from side to side. ―She has trouble staying put.‖ The first of my hands was free, and I jerked it clean, flexing my fingers. My next one

was free instants later, and I nearly collapsed onto Salvador. I felt this insane urge to kiss him and hug him and make love to him right there, but the grim look on his face stopped me, as did the angry roar of the tyrannosaur to the side. We both turned. The tyrannosaur had shaken the spear free, and was now lurching forward again. ―Quick,‖ Salvador said, jerking me with him. We ran to the far side of the pit. The tyrannosaur moved toward it, and then started to move to the side. We moved in the opposite direction, careful to keep the pit between us. As it circled, we circled in time with it. ―What do we do?‖ I said to him, keeping close. ―We wait,‖ Salvador said, sword at the ready. I didn‘t know what we were waiting for, only that I had to keep pace with Salvador or else we‘d be T-Rex kibble. So when he pulled me forward, I followed. We circled like this for quite some time, and when I was beginning to tire and grew dizzy, the tyrannosaur lunged. I fell backward with a tiny yelp, just as Salvador‘s sword slashed down. The whole world seemed to fall and tumble at the same time, and the next thing I knew, Salvador had scooped me up off the ground and was running out of the clearing. I wrapped my arms around his neck and looked over his jostling shoulder. The Tyrannosaurus Rex was half-stuck in the ground, one of his legs trapped in the pit as he bellowed and bellowed over and over again. He thrashed his body, unable to get up or roll forward to free himself. I saw the long, shiny blade of Salvador‘s sword jutting from the creature‘s side. ―Your sword,‖ I murmured, clutching my lovely conquistador tighter to me.

―He can keep it,‖ Salvador replied, his arms tightening around me as he ran. ―Do you promise to never leave the camp without me again?‖ I buried my face in his neck. ―How about if I promise never to try and rescue anyone without your help?‖ ―I agree.‖ He paused, readjusting me against his side, then slung me over his shoulder. ―I‘m sorry I did not believe you.‖ ―I don‘t care about that,‖ I said. ―It doesn‘t matter. I love you, Salvador.‖ ―I love you too, Diana. Never leave me again.‖ His fingers tightened on my legs so painfully that I winced, an indication that he felt much more strongly than his calm, easy words suggested. ―I won‘t. I promise. We‘re in this together from now on.‖

Chapter Twelve

―I see white,‖ Mr. Wingarde said. ―I think it‘s a boat.‖ It was early in the morning, a good week or two after we‘d returned from rescuing the others. Mr. Wingarde and Susie were well on the way to recovery, though they were both too thin and tended to scare easily. Susie had taken to Eustace‘s attentions like a starving woman takes to bread, and I rarely saw the two of them separated. They were, even now, huddled at the far side of the cave, cleaning the food for the noon meal today and whispering to each other. As I watched, Eustace reached out and fingered a lock of Susie‘s golden hair, and she giggled. ―It‘s a ship, I tell you,‖ Mr. Wingarde said, sounding annoyed. ―Doesn‘t anyone in this love-infested cave pay attention to me?‖ ―I‘m sure it looks like a boat,‖ Olivia said cheerfully from near the fire, but didn‘t bother to get up from her sewing. She was busy making Eustace and Susie a thicker blanket for their small cave, the scraps from my old skirt readily pieced into the existing fabric. Susie looked up from where she was peeling fruit over one of the helmet-bowls, her attention momentarily drawn from Eustace‘s ministrations. ―What do you mean, a ship?‖ Mr. Wingarde rolled back the palm canopy and pointed off in the distance. ―I mean what I said,‖ he said irritably. ―I see white. I think it‘s a sail. It‘s got to be a ship or a boat of some sort. Perhaps it‘s a rescue party.‖

Eustace looked at Susie with a look akin to dread, and got to his feet, heading over to Mr. Wingarde‘s side. I followed close behind, wiping my hands - I‘d been curing hides for our bed, and that was messy work—and heading over to see. The shoreline was little more than a blue and yellow ribbon from our vantage-point in the cave, and I idly scanned the forest below instead, looking for a familiar tawny head, waiting to see the flashing smile of my conquistador as he headed in with the day‘s food. Maybe he had one of the fat island lizards, I thought, my mouth watering at the thought. The meat was so pale and tender. When Mr. Wingarde pointed again, though, my attention was drawn away from the trees, and I put a hand to my eyes to shield them. Sure enough, on the horizon there was the faintest glimpse of a triangle of white, and then it vanished again. ―It is a ship,‖ I said, excitement leaking into my voice. ―Oh my god! A ship!‖ I looked over at Susie and Olivia in happiness. ―We can leave!‖ But while Susie‘s eyes shone with happiness, I noticed a singular sort of dread in Olivia‘s eyes. She smiled at me, briefly, and then went back to her sewing. ―I imagine we‘ll need to check it out when Salvador returns,‖ she said, shooting Eustace a meaningful look. He said nothing, merely returning to Susie‘s side. I wondered at the oddly pensive air in the cave. This should be a time of happiness, not worry—we were about to be rescued. The heavy mood in the cave lingered, even when Salvador returned. He dropped his kill off at the fire and immediately moved to me, sweeping me up in a long, thorough kiss that I was happy to give him.

―I‘ve missed you, belleza,‖ he said against my lips. ―Did you miss me?‖ ―Always,‖ I said, sliding my hands around his neck and leaning against him. I grinned like a lovesick fool. ―Did Eustace tell you the news?‖ ―There‘s a ship on the shore,‖ Eustace said flatly. Salvador had something akin to the same reaction. He stiffened against me, then looked down at my face with a heartbreakingly tender look. ―Then we must go and check things out, eh, belleza? Perhaps there will be more survivors.‖ ―Or perhaps they‘re here to rescue us, fools,‖ Mr. Wingarde said with a sneer. Eustace glowered at him, and Olivia shot him a concerned look. Mr. Wingarde was the one unhappy dark spot in our otherwise cozy little cave. Susie and I tried to help around the ‗house‘ and offered to do chores, but all Mr. Wingarde did was sit around and complain, and it bothered all of us. ―Come, let us go and examine it for ourselves.‖ Salvador detangled my arms from around his neck, and he gestured at Olivia. ―Pack the water-skins and let us bring some dried food for a long journey.‖ He looked over at Mr. Wingarde. ―Just in case.‖ We gathered our things and headed out from the little cave, all of us. It was a half a day‘s walk to the portion of beach that we‘d seen the ship at, and, while normally our jaunts were filled with chatting and laughter, today‘s walk was quiet and pensive. Only Mr. Wingarde seemed in high spirits as he led the way towards the beach, a mere step behind Salvador. I‘d been pushed back to somewhere in the middle of the train, next to Olivia, and she stopped repeatedly to give me a wan, tremulous smile. ―What‘s wrong?‖ I asked her once, but she didn‘t respond, only shook her head.

As we approached the shore, it soon became very obvious that it was, in fact, a sailboat. Mr. Wingarde let out a whoop of joy and dashed for the beach, and I found myself running after him as well. It was a small craft, no more than twelve feet long, with the name of ‗C-Spryte‘ peeling off the back of it. It had beached itself on the shore by some miracle of the tide, but didn‘t seem to be any worse for the wear other than that. The small craft was entirely deserted. Curious, our small group crawled all over the boat, looking for people, or clues as to where they might have gone. The only thing we were able to notice was that the sail itself was completely soaked with sea-water and the controls were water-damaged. ―It is always like this,‖ Salvador admitted to me. ―Sometimes we find a ship, but never anyone else. It‘s like it‘s been swallowed by the ocean and spit out for us to find.‖ We spent the better part of the afternoon getting the small craft out onto the water again, to see if it was seaworthy, and by the time the sun went down, Olivia had a nice fire built on the beach, and the small ship bobbled on the shoreline, anchored close by. ―I can‘t believe it,‖ I said, happiness seeping into my voice. ―A ship. A real ship.‖ ―The controls are shorted out,‖ Mr. Wingarde added, his voice singing out happily. ―But that doesn‘t matter. I‘ve been sailing since I was a young boy, and I‘m sure I can direct that thing back to land simply by following the North Star.‖ Salvador and the others said nothing, simply allowed us to chatter happily to ourselves, discussing the plans for the ship well into the night. The bright fire on the beach kept away all scavengers, and there was no sign of the T-Rex. I wondered if he‘d managed to free himself yet.

When we lay down to rest, Eustace offered to take first watch, and I snuggled in close next to Salvador. ―Aren‘t you happy?‖ I said, lost in my daydreams. He merely kissed my hand and smiled at me. Lost in my daydreams, I didn‘t notice his quiet demeanor. We‘d get out of here, I mused, and I could go back to work. Salvador could live with me, and we‘d get married, maybe have a couple of kids. He didn‘t have any practical skills for the modern world, but I was sure he could find a job doing something—teaching Spanish or history, maybe—and oh, it would be such fun to show him and Olivia my world. I snuggled into his arms and went to sleep, thinking of all the wonderful things we‘d experience together, the feel of his lips pressed against the back of my hand following even into my dreams. The next morning, I was the last one to awaken. Groggy with sleep, I rolled over and looked into Salvador‘s charming green eyes. He gave me a gentle smile, then reached over and kissed me, ever so softly, on the lips. I stretched underneath him, twining my arms around his neck and pulling him down for a more lingering kiss, and we enjoyed each other‘s company for long, lovely moments, and I thought to myself that I‘d never been happier. My conquistador was with me, my fellow travelers were safe, and we were about to be rescued. Life did not get much better. ―We should join the others,‖ Salvador said, his voice carrying a hint of emotion I couldn‘t identify. Reluctance? Perhaps he was worried that once we got off the island, I‘d forget about him. I squeezed his hand. Not a chance. He and I were going to be together, always. I followed Salvador down to the others on the shore. Eustace, Susie, and Olivia all

stood on the shore, talking quietly, and I noticed that Eustace clutched Susie‘s hand tightly in his. I smiled at that, slipping my hand into Salvador‘s larger one. ―Where‘s Mr. Wingarde?‖ I asked, putting my hand to my eyes to shield them from the bright sunlight on the water. Olivia pointed at the small sailboat. ―He‘s making it ready to sail. No water leakage overnight, so he wants to leave before the sun gets too high in the sky. He says he‘s already plotted a course and everything.‖ She squinted and glanced over at me. ―We gave him one of the compasses we had in the caves.‖ It was a little scary to think about setting off without having any working equipment. ―I suppose the compass will work once we get out of this region, hmm?‖ Olivia shrugged. ―Well,‖ I said brightly, hoisting my pack over my shoulder. ―What are we waiting for? Shall we get aboard?‖ Salvador lifted my hand to his lips and brushed a soft kiss on it. ―Belleza,‖ he said, his voice husky, his green eyes intense with emotion that I couldn‘t name. ―You know I will always love you and cherish our time together,‖ he began. I cut him off with a nervous laugh, and jerked my hand out of his. ―Come on,‖ I said. ―That sounds to me like you‘re not going with me, and we both know that‘s ridiculous.‖ ―I‘m not going,‖ he said quietly. ―None of us are.‖ Olivia‘s sad eyes brimmed with tears and she ran off, heading down the beach, back towards our campfire. Perplexed by her reaction, I focused in on Salvador, trying not to get too anxious over his words. ―What do you mean, you‘re not going? It‘ll be scary to be back in the real

world, at first, but you‘ll soon adjust. Isn‘t that right, Susie?‖ I looked over to the flight attendant for confirmation, but she shook her head and leaned in to Eustace. ―We talked about this last night, Diana. I‘m not going to leave Eustace here. I‘ve got nothing back in the real world waiting for me except massive student loans and alimony payments to my ex-husband. I‘d rather stay here and take my chances in the wild. I wish you the best, though, kiddo.‖ And with that, she and Eustace walked hand-in-hand, down the beach, without a backward glance at me and Salvador. Panic rose in my throat. ―I don‘t understand. Why are they staying? How can they possibly want to stay here?‖ ―It‘s their home,‖ Salvador said simply. ―As it is mine.‖ I reached for him, put my hands on both sides of his face, my fingers running over his beautiful mouth as if I could memorize it with my touch. ―It‘s okay,‖ I said. ―I‘ll be with you the entire time, and it‘ll be fine. We‘ll get back to the mainland, and we can get married, and you‘ll live with me. It won‘t be so bad. I promise—― ―Belleza,‖ he said softly, his hands cupping my face. He looked down at me with such tenderness I thought I would cry at the sight of it. ―It is not that I would not leave with you. It is that I cannot.‖ Tears threatened, and a hard knot formed in my throat, and I swallowed repeatedly. ―I...I don‘t understand. Why can‘t you?‖ ―Think,‖ he said softly. ―Even if I had lived to be a hundred years old—an ancient man—I would still be dead many times over. On this island, time does not pass. I am young, and I am healthy. But once I leave...‖ he shrugged. ―I will age within days and

die.‖ ―That‘s not true,‖ I protested, fear prickling at his words. ―You don‘t know that will happen.‖ ―I do know it will happen,‖ he said firmly. ―Harold came to the island only thirty years after Eustace and Olivia. He was only a few years older than Eustace when they landed. Fifty years ago, he made a raft and left the island, seeking to return to the mainland. He returned a week later, aged as he is now. Had he stayed out later, he would have died.‖ I gasped at the horrible story, thinking of Harold, so fragile and old. ―No,‖ I breathed. ―Yes,‖ he said firmly, his hands resting on my arms. ―You see why I cannot leave. I would age away within a matter of days, leaving you nothing but a memory.‖ ―You‘re leaving me nothing but a memory now,‖ I said, my heart aching. The tears that had threatened spilled over, and I began to cry. I didn‘t want him to age and die. I wanted him to be as he was now, always golden and beautiful. ―It‘s all right, then. We‘ll stay here. I‘ll go back to the cave with you, and we‘ll live out our days here.‖ ―No,‖ Salvador said in that heartbreakingly tender voice. ―If you had a choice, belleza, you would go back home. I would not take that choice away from you. I would not force you to a life here, not when you can still leave.‖ I sobbed. ―It‘s not fair,‖ I said. ―I don‘t want to leave without you.‖ ―I am sorry,‖ he said in that heartbreakingly gentle voice, pulling me close to him. ―Know that I will always love you. Know that I will always think of you, and your sweet face, and the way you smell, every time I wake in the morning. Know that I will think of you when I look at the stars at night, and thank God that he has given us this short time

together.‖ I said nothing and clung to him as I sobbed. It wasn‘t fair. It just wasn‘t fair. I had love, and I was about to lose it. Eventually, my tears died down to nothing but hiccups, and my sobs down to a dry ache at the back of my throat. Salvador said nothing, simply stroked the wetness away from my cheeks and kissed my face so tenderly that it made me cry anew. ―Go, belleza. I would not condemn you to this life, just to keep you at my side. You deserve to go back to the life you love, and to live a full dream.‖ We slowly separated, and I glanced back at the ship waiting in the water. Mr. Wingarde waved from the deck of the ship, then pointed at the sky and the boat. His message was clear—we needed to leave soon. The wind was picking up, and whipped my hair around my face. Salvador opened his pack and handed it to me. ―I want you to have this, belleza.‖ Inside, I saw a good portion of dried fruit, a corked bottle of Olivia‘s fruit wine, and my heart nearly stopped at the sight of the log book, tenderly tucked away inside. ―Your log book from your ship,‖ I said, looking up into his face with searching eyes. ―Why?‖ The smile he gave me was soft, heart-breaking. ―So you have something to remember Salvador Diego de la Cuerva by. So you will know this was not just a dream.‖ I clutched it close to my chest and leaned into him once more. ―It was the best dream ever, if it was,‖ I said, trying not to cry again. His fingertips touched my chin, and he lifted my face for one last kiss. ―You must go, belleza. I will not keep you.‖

And just like that, he stepped backward, leaving me alone on the shore, the bag in my hands. I swayed for a moment, nearly ill with the thought of leaving him, and then straightened. I turned and headed out to the surf, wading out to the ship. The water was no more than waist-high when I made it to the edge of the boat, and climbed the metal rungs to get over the side. On the boat, Mr. Wingarde was busily tying knots into the sail and puttering around. ―We ready to go?‖ He said, smiling cheerfully at me. ―If this good wind keeps up, we might hit shore in Bermuda in no time, once we get our bearings.‖ I looked over at the shore. Salvador stood there, stoic as ever, his arms crossed over his chest, unmoving. He‘d stay there until I was out of sight, I knew. He‘d stay there until I was no more than a speck on the ocean, and long after that. He‘d wait until I was no more than a breath or a whisper of a dream, and then he‘d make the long, lonely walk back to the cave, and return to his endless life. Without me. I felt hollow inside. Empty, and hollow. ―I‘m ready,‖ I said dully, tears sliding down my cheeks. I sat there like a lump as Mr. Wingarde pulled up the anchor and adjusted the sails, catching the wind. ―Good sailing weather,‖ he declared, as cheerful as could be. I was dying, but I forced myself to smile at him. ―Great weather,‖ I echoed. The wind snapped into the sails, and the little boat slid out into deeper waters, slowly, agonizingly. Yet, it was too fast. We were going too fast, and I watched as the island began to recede behind us. Unthinking, I uncovered the book that Salvador had sent with me, and nearly wept at the sight of the beautiful embossed cover.

I opened it and stared at the names inside, watching as the pages flaked against the high breeze and ate away. Soon there would be nothing left, but I kept it open and touched the pages anyhow. Salvador Diego de la Cuerva, 1521. My vision blurred, and I swallowed back the sob that rose. I‘d never forget him. I glanced backward, looking at the shore, and saw him still standing there, as motionless as before, receding with every choppy wave that hit the boat. He was sending me away, I thought, and sobbed, my tears splashing on the page and obscuring his name. ―Shit,‖ I sobbed to myself, wiping at the beautiful script and crying even harder when all it did was smear against my fingers. How could he send me away? How could he not go with me? Because he loves you, you idiot, my brain told me. He wants you to be happy, even if it means he can’t be happy with you. I stared around me, at Mr. Wingarde whistling as he leaned against the sail, smiling out at the blue waters. I felt like a void inside, cold and numb and aching. Is this what happiness was? Is this what I was returning to? Was this happiness? I thought of the moment that I‘d woken up on the shore that morning. The sun had been beating down in my eyes, and my feet ached from the long walk the day before. I‘d had sand in all my crevices, and my mouth was dry, but I‘d rolled over and looked into the most beautiful face I‘d ever seen and the most wonderful green eyes. And Salvador had kissed me awake.

That was happiness. That was contentment, no matter the sand or the dinosaurs or whatever. I couldn‘t do it. I threw down my bags and clutched the book to my chest, staring at the shore. It was receding in the distance, almost too far to swim. I looked at the book down in my hands, and knew that the pages would never make it back to shore. They wouldn‘t survive another dousing. ―Mr. Wingarde,‖ I said, and thrust the book in his hands when he turned. ―What is this?‖ He said, his happy whistle stopping. ―It‘s a log book,‖ I said. ―Write my name in it, please? And remember me?‖ And I leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, and ran to the far end of the boat. Lord, but the water looked deep. I glanced back at the shore, and Salvador‘s bronzed form standing there. It was now or never. I jumped. The first shock of the water was cold, and I went under the waves, terrified. My first thought was of sharks, and riptides, and everything bad that could happen. ―Diana,‖ Mr. Wingarde screamed as I resurfaced. ―What are you doing?‖ ―I‘m going home, Mr. Wingarde,‖ I yelled at him. ―I can‘t leave. Not now, not ever.‖ ―You‘re a stupid fool,‖ He yelled at me. ―I‘m not turning around to come back and get you.‖ ―Then don‘t turn around,‖ I yelled back at him, but the words were slapped out of my mouth as a wave rose up, and I went under, only to resurface a moment more, coughing.

―You‘ve decided, then?‖ He shouted at me, log book still clutched in his hands. I nodded, turning towards the shore, paddling slowly. I was going to need all my strength to swim back. There was a hard slap of water in front of me, and I stared at a circular float as it bobbed in front of me. I looked back to Mr. Wingarde, and watched as he waved at me. ―God be with you, Diana.‖ He waved. ―I won‘t forget. Now swim hard!‖ I clutched the float to me, and began to kick. I swam. I swam and swam and swam so hard that I thought I was going to die from all the water I‘d inhaled. My eyelids grew puffy with the salt, and I kept kicking even though the shore didn‘t seem to get any closer, no matter how hard I tried. But it eventually got closer, and my feet could touch the bottom, and no sharks had eaten me. And no sooner was I rising out of the water than Salvador was at my side, pulling me from the exhausting water and clutching me close to him, kissing me as though his heart was breaking. ―Why, Diana? Why did you come back?‖ He shook his head. ―It is not what you wanted,‖ he said, even as he clutched me close to him and ran his hands all over my body, as if he were dying and touching me was the only thing keeping him to this life. And I laughed, my hands doing the same with him, because I loved him so and I couldn‘t bear the thought of leaving him, of not being able to touch him, or kiss him in the morning. Sand and dinosaurs and everything be damned. This was my home. I laughed and kissed him again, nearly choking when a wave slapped the two of us in the face. All the salt water in the world was not going to keep me from kissing this man.

―I wanted to be happy,‖ I said, trying not to cry. ―I‘m happy here with you. I don‘t want a laptop or a Starbucks or anything else. Don‘t send me away.‖ ―But...I thought you wanted…‖ I shook my head. I put my hands on his face and drew him close to me. ―I want my conquistador. For now and forever.‖ ―Belleza,‖ he breathed, and then he kissed me. ―If you‘re certain...‖ ―Just shut up and kiss me,‖ I said with a smile. And he did. All the way back to our little cave in the wilderness.

The End