Chapter Three

“Not us.”

Nerves tumbled in Daisy’s stomach. She scanned the list again. Surely there must be some sort of administration blunder. Her stomach dropped another notch.

Nope.

There were their names in bold, black ink.

Second to last.

Zan walked to their entry and snagged a chicken drumstick. He dragged the chicken through the mashed potato and popped it into his mouth.

And chewed.

And chewed.

His eyes crinkled at the corners and color faded from his face. He motioned for a bottle of water which she handed him. It may smell awesome, but that’s where it ended.

“I guess we didn’t crack Colonel Sanders recipe after all.” She snagged an onion ring and dangled it between her fingers.

“I wouldn’t,” Zan rasped.

“We’re not going to win a single thing.” She turned to him. Her jaw ached from being clenched so tight. “We don’t play well together.”

Chunks of dark red splashed on his chiseled cheekbones. “No, we don’t.”

She went into analytical mode. When a deal fell through at work, she called a meeting with her sisters, and between them, they figured out what went wrong so moving forward it wouldn’t happen again. New to the CEO position, it had been a hard and fast learning curve.

How had they miscommunicated so badly? Nothing about them worked. She moved left. He insisted they go right. She’d ask they take a minute to work out what they were doing. He’d run straight toward the problem like a general into a battle, all that was missing was the battle cry.

Her head throbbed. She’d kill for a bubble bath loaded with bath bombs, a glass of wine, and a whole lot of quiet to ease the drumbeat in her head.

The only reason they were here was to win challenges, pretending to be a couple looking for love when that was far from the truth. They were here because they had to complete the four-day course or Levi wouldn’t even consider their proposals, that and the charity aspect of winning the most challenges.

If Levi believed Poppy had stolen company secrets, which she had not, Levi wouldn’t consider their proposal, and the family hotel chain would be lost. She had to have Zan’s apology in her back pocket to save her sister’s reputation and the company.

Something flicked in her brain. “What was the pantomime thing you were doing?”

“Cock and A. I couldn’t figure out vin so concentrated on cock and A, hoping you’d understand.”

She stared at him in confusion before she got it. A bolt of laughter shot out of her. Laughter that shook her entire insides into jelly. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and stood. Zan chuckled and shook his head, but a smile creased the corners of his oh-so-kissable mouth.

Where did that come from?

After a quick consultation with her brain, she decided to plead the fifth.

“What are we going to do?” She puffed hair out of her face.

“Simple. Do what I say, and we’ll win.”

Really.

Hackles rose in neat lines on the back of her neck. “I read that St. Maarten was originally called Oualichi, which means land of women. I’d tread carefully.”

He scoffed.

“How about we make rules over who does what task and follow said rules,” she shot back, the happy feeling had evaporated, now her blood was on a slow boil.

“No rules.”

“Rules,” she snapped back, hands on her hips.

Green clashed with brown and after a stare off, she walked away and back to the pool where a beaming Sally handed out a piece of paper with ten questions. “This is the chance to get to know your partner.”

Daisy read the questions and fought an eye roll.

“I know what your favorite movie is. When Harry did Sally,” Zan said.

She arched a brow. “I think you’re referring to your favorite porn movie.”

A smile tugged at the side of his mouth.

“On Saturday night you stay home, floss your teeth all by yourself.” He shook his head. “So sad.”

“How did you know?” She nodded. “Oh, right. Are you a professional stalker?” She patted his forearm. “I’m guessing your favorite color is pink, but you’re afraid to let your feminine side out.” She shook her head. “So sad.”

“Favorite sexual position. Hmm. I’m thinking good old missionary. Too many rules otherwise.”

A vision of her riding Zan shot into her head. Her head would be thrown back, her name spilling from his mouth on a groan. He’d find that sweet spot she’d read about but didn’t think existed, and she’d unleash around him.

“I’d love to know what you’re thinking now with your flushed cheeks, biting your lips, pupils dilated.”

“Rodeo,” she said, her voice husky, which she cleared.

He wouldn’t know that he’d be her fiery, insatiable stallion.

His eyes widened in surprise then swirled with something like desire.

Damn, if that didn’t send dark heat between her legs.

“What about you?”

He stared straight ahead. “I’m more of an all-night-long man. I like to take my time until my name tumbles from her lips in a scream. Could be silent, but I like it when she comes undone, crying for her maker.”

Her jaw went slack, way more heaviness between her legs than was good for a girl who wasn’t going to be able to relieve the pressure.

“You’re looking a little flustered.” An amused, cynical smile on his face, like he knew she was turned on. “You’re not coming down with something are you?”

Two can play your game.

“Would you excuse me, I have a pressing need I have to take care of. If I don’t, I swear I’ll explode.”

Now it was his turn for his jaw to drop.

After waiting it out in the bathroom for five minutes, she joined him. “Much better. It isn’t good to bottle things up. I would have tossed and turned all night, having the most erotic dreams.”

His expression dark, his eyes glittered. “Erotic?”

She shrugged. “Sorry, I meant erratic dreams.”

“So are we done here? Anything else I need to know about you?” He glanced at her then away.

“Not a single thing.”

Hours later, they’d bickered their way through a battle of Pictionary, a rock climbing wall, and a ridiculous obstacle course. Daisy hobbled to a table under an enormous frangipani tree, the delicate white flowers littering the ground, the scent plundering the air. She slumped into a seat, kicked flip-flops from her feet, and wiggled her toes. She remembered when Bruce Willis had done it in that high-rise movie where he was out to save his wife. It was supposed to be calming. So far it wasn’t working.

For six long hours, but what had felt like six hundred, she’d endured Zan. He hadn’t started out believing she couldn’t draw anything that wasn’t in stick or circle form. Nor had he believed that she’d never rock climbed in her life and wasn’t about to start. At the obstacle course, he’d been patient and kind when she’d balked at the massive wall. He’d talked her around with calm confidence until she’d agreed to try but made no guarantee of success. His hands were all over her as he helped lever her up the Great Wall of China. Her body heated like she was coming down with a fever. She’d sworn his hands had lingered on her hips a little longer than necessary before she clambered over the top, landing with an oomph on the other side. He’d vaulted effortlessly over—of course. He’d then try and pull her where he wanted to go until she’d dug in her heels insisting he at least listen to what she had to say.

They were on track to lose every challenge.

They didn’t do anything well together.

Zan sat next to her. Grooves hugged his eyes. His lips had flattened to a thin line, and he’d taken to rubbing at a spot on the back of his neck. He signaled a passing waiter, ordered a beer, then turned to her with raised eyebrows.

She put down the drinks menu. “I’m going to try the local Guavaberry Colada, please,” she said to the waiter, ignoring the hot, broody man next to her. All she wanted to do was go to her room and have quiet time, but part of this mess was on her and needed correcting.

Right, time to right the listing Titanic.

She had to fix this, because as much as she wanted to be away from here, she didn’t have fifty thousand hanging around in her bank, so she couldn’t back out. Mortgage free, she took a small salary, but the rest went back into the company. Zan probably had bank accounts around the world spitting out money. More important was the apology from Brayden about Poppy.

“I think we’ve established, after failing every challenge, that we’re going to be the clear losers here by a mile.” She pulled at the hem of her T-shirt, trying to sort through her jumbled thoughts. Sally approached. Zan put his hand out for the note Sally held in her hand. Sally smiled at Zan, an extra-perky smile, then turned a sympathetic gaze to her.

She threw up her hands. “Excuse me, why do you get the note?”

“Do you have to argue about everything?” Zan shot her a dark, brutal look that cut straight through to her soul and left her in no mind that he would be ecstatic if she upped and left.

His withering look made her feel small, insignificant, and defenseless, and she clenched her chin to stop the unexpected tremble.

Damn you.

He wasn’t going to make her feel like this.

She let her dad wander into her mind, his words echoed in her head. “You are stronger than you know Daisy. You are kind, beautiful, and smart. You can do anything you set your mind go.”

A thought wiggled into her mind.

Maybe I can make him leave.

Her body was as tight as a violin string.

Sally shuffled over to the next couple who, like Daisy and Zan, had argued all day. And that poor couple were looking for love. Tears hovered in the woman’s eyes, she clutched and unclutched her hands. The man stared out to sea, deep frown lines between his eyes, a muscle worked overtime in his jaw. Daisy wondered if they’d be a partner swap on their horizon. She hoped they could move past whatever it was and give their time here a chance.

She slumped farther in the seat. If she could lay her head down for five minutes. Five minutes of not hearing his exasperated tone. Five minutes of blissful quiet. Every muscle in her body ached. Combined with the lack of sleep, she doubted she’d even execute a one-eighty turn tonight.

Oh yeah, another thing.

She straightened in her chair. “What was that crack about my bed this morning?”

She’d leave a big tip every day for housekeeping because she destroyed beds. She executed a three-sixty degree spin during the night and took no prisoners. She’d tried every infomercial product and crazy internet suggestion to halt her nighttime thrashing. Nothing worked. Only Rose crawling into her bed as a child had stopped all movement.

His gaze flicked to hers. “One hell of a dream?”

He’d never know she’d lain awake trying to come up with ways to conjure up fifty grand.

“It was soo good,” she said in a throaty whisper.

Stormy eyes scanned her. “Erotic or erratic?”

She held his gaze. “Both.”

The waiter appeared with their drinks. Zan raised the bottle of beer to his lips, and she watched in silent admiration as he chugged, thinking it the sexiest thing she’d seen. She gulped a mouthful of the colada, her eyes tearing as the rum hit the back of her throat.

Daisy stared out at the resort. The dull thwack in the distance heralded the arrival of a falling coconut. A warm breeze played off the ocean and kissed her face.

How lovely to come here, float in turquoise waves, sleep for a week, and find love. Her heart did a little squeeze. It’d be good one day to come home to Virgil and a man who’d greet her with a melting kiss at the door, carry her up the stairs where they’d make love, then order in takeout and feed each other wontons in bed. She jerked when Zan barked out her name.

“What?” She put down her drink.

“Called you three times.” He looked even moodier and broodier than she’d have thought possible. His shoulders tense, grooves beside his eyes.

She shrugged a tight shoulder. “I was thinking.”

“What about?” He chugged another mouthful of beer.

Again, her eyes were drawn to his neck, following the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed.

She stared at a couple walking through the waves holding hands, and away from the man who unsettled her by drinking a beer.

“I thought that it would be lovely to come here to find your forever partner. Dine by the sea, walks along the beach. Romance stuff.”

He made a sound like he was choking.

She stared at him hard. “Yeah, I figure public displays of affection aren’t your thing.”

“Don’t see the point.”

She swirled her glass. “I can tell you went to Romance 101 classes. How’d they work out? D minus?” Her stomach swirled at the dangerous glint in his emerald eyes.

“I know what we’re going to do.”

“What?” Trepidation like nipping fire ants marched up her spine at the sudden change in conversation and atmosphere. She placed her glass on the table.

“We can do the kayak challenge.” He squinted off into the distance. “I was on the rowing team in college. This is one challenge we can win. If we leave soon, we should be there and back before dusk.”

She gripped the armrest.

“What now?” He sighed. “We don’t need a plan for this one. Go there, retrieve the clue, and arrive back before nightfall.”

“I can swim, but I’m more of a pool girl.”

“You’ll be in a kayak, wearing a life jacket, and the island we have to go to isn’t very far.” He hooked her chin with his thumb until she had no choice but to look at him. “You’ll be okay, and how about I promise your cute butt will stay in the kayak at all times?”

Cute butt? She had a butt, but it was most definitely not cute.

She rapid blinked. That didn’t sting, that burned.

“That’s a low blow even for you.”

He dug his hand into his hair, looking confused. “What is?”

“I don’t have a cute butt. The only time my butt could remotely be called cute is when Spanx is earning its money.”

She turned at his exasperated tone. “Jesus, woman, you have no idea.”

The hangnail she loved moved to her mouth, but before she could chomp on down, he gently took her hand. His eyes captured hers. “No family bullshit. No talk about the resort. You and me, heading over to the island and getting a clue. Not many couples have signed up, and we’ve got a good shot.” He paused. “Trust me that we can do this.” His eyebrows rose. “As for your butt. I’m a guy. We’re excellent judges.”

She stared into his warm eyes and didn’t see anything but sincerity in the emerald depths.

Daisy pushed hair from her forehead, aware of her shaking fingers. “Do you mean that tiny speck of an island by Australia?”

“That’s the one.” He grinned.

…

Later that afternoon, Daisy pulled the paddle of the kayak through the water. The lifejacket she wore could let her float to New Zealand. She glanced behind at the beach receding from view, but the strip of the island they were heading to seemed closer.

The water was so clear she could step off the kayak, and her feet would touch the bottom. Fish the color of every highlighter spun and swum under the crystal water.

Wow, this is fun.

She tried to dig the oar into the water, but her shoulders had bailed on the activity ages ago. Now they complained violently if she tried to dip the paddle into the water. She put in an occasional paddle to help out the team, but Zan was doing all the heavy lifting. Still, the view from where she sat was spectacular. Zan’s shoulders, biceps, and triceps trapped under tanned skin flexed in harmony.

Lost in the setting and the workings of Zan’s shoulders she didn’t hear him talking.

“We’re not going to make it to the resort,” Zan called over his shoulder. “Those clouds are coming in fast.”

Daisy looked behind at the tiny spec of land that was the resort then ahead to the small beach they were approaching. Without warning, a massive drop of rain splashed her cheek. The gray clouds on the horizon were now a tin-metal gray tinged with purple and were sprinting across the sky. The wind started to pick up, and the kayak gave a jerk when a wave broke over them. She needed to go to the bathroom urgently, and her hands were frozen around the oar.

“Paddle as hard as you can,” he called over the wind. Angry froth churned on the water’s surface.

She gripped the paddle and grunted. Adrenaline fired through her cramped muscles and the flight or fight system activated. With her lungs burning, she paddled as hard as she could toward the beach.

“We’re going to have to go in at an angle. Keep paddling left.” Zan angled the boat as her oar dipped too deep and was ripped from her hand.

A wave smashed over the vessel. Daisy pitched sideways, and the kayak flipped. She gasped as salty water stung her throat and white bubbles exploded around her. With her throat on fire, she pushed her legs up and out of the kayak, and the life preserver took her to the surface, her arms flailing. She clung to the upside-down kayak and scanned the choppy sea as water broke over her head.

“Zan,” she sputtered, swallowing a mouthful of water, then choked it out. She fought to keep her breathing level, but failed as her heart beat out of her throat.

On my God. Where is he?

“Zan!” she screamed, scanning the water for any sign of him.

Nothing.

What if he’s stuck under the kayak?

Seconds that felt like hours ticked by. He could be hurt or worse.

She unclicked the buckles of the vest and threw it over her head. She took a breath, sent a quick prayer upward, and plunged under the water, kicking hard. A hand landed on her shoulder and hauled her toward the surface, where she gulped in air, spluttering.

“What were you doing?” Dark, unflinching eyes scanned her.

“Looking for you.” Hysteria and panic lined her voice. “I thought you were stuck under the kayak. I thought…” Rain and salt stung her eyes, blurring her vision.

He tightened his arm around her shoulder and helped her up the beach. Her legs were now like seaweed. They made it to a palm that whipped in the breeze. “Stay here.”

She nodded numbly, wrapping her arms around her body. Zan ran down the beach, grabbed the kayak, and pulled it higher on the beach; he then retrieved a paddle and her lifejacket floating in the water.

Sheets of rain split the sky. A deep roll of thunder rolled across the purple sky followed by a flash that made the hairs on her neck stand on end. She shivered. A bikini and a T-shirt had been an excellent idea when the temps were in the nineties. Now, not so much. Zan grabbed her wrist, not her hand, and they ran up a path. Coconuts rained around them like missiles.

“There’s a hut ahead.” She jumped when another belt of thunder shook the earth beneath them. The map in her pocket with a clue had shown an abandoned hut used for challenges.

A shed loomed ahead of them through the gloom. Zan threw opened the door as lightning electrified the ground around them, giving everything a momentary blue glow. He threw the door closed. Both had their backs to the door as if their combined weight could hold the storm pounding on the wood which buckled under the onslaught of the wind.

“What was that idiot move back there, taking off your lifejacket? Fuck.” Hands on his hips, his lips a thin line. His face was pale, but his eyes blazed.

What?

“Idiot move?” she asked, her heart pounding like she was stuck under the kayak again. He moved into her space, and she took a step forward. A tic jumped in his jaw, and he held his body rigid, only the straightening and flexing of his hands gave away any emotion.

“I was trying to save you. I thought you were stuck under the kayak. I couldn’t dive underneath with the lifejacket on. So I took it off. I thought you were trapped under there.” Her voice trembled. All the emotion of the day coupled with the bone-sucking fear that he may be trapped under the kayak came out in a sob. She covered her face with her hands, turned away, and burst into tears.

A warm, strong hand landed on her shoulder.

“Shit,” he muttered, spun her gently, then two strong arms pulled her to his chest.

She clung to him. Clung to his strength, his warmth, until the fear leaked out of her in shuddering sobs.

God, it’s good to be held. Really held.

Slowly the tension eased from her muscles. His warmth, his everything, made her feel safe.

I can’t remember the last time I was held like this.

She snuggled in deeper, loving the feeling of being embraced, as the terror of the afternoon ebbed away, even though she was with a man who had zero interest in her, and saw her only as a rival. He caressed the back of her head with one hand and held her close to his chest. His strong, steady heartbeat calmed hers.

She pulled back and wiped her face, having a fairly good idea what she looked like. Blotchy cheeks, red eyes and nose, the hallmarks of an ugly crier. “Sorry, not very CEO of me.”

Soft eyes held her. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you, but I was scared shitless when I couldn’t see you.” He pulled his hand through his hair. “You must look after yourself first.”

She tilted her head to the side. “If the roles were reversed, you’d have made it to the shore and left me to fend for myself, because you’d come first?”

“No, I’d have come for you.” The tic in his jaw now jumped.

“Exactly what I was doing. We may not like each other, but I’m not that awful that I would have left you out there if you needed my help.”

He folded his arms. “The best thing for you to do was to make it to shore with your life jacket on and wait.”

“While you were drowning?” She tried to bite back the hitch in her voice, but it sailed into the room on a crack. She walked to the other side of the small cabin. Her legs felt like she’d run back-to-back marathons. Salt stung her lips and as the adrenaline started to bleed from her body, the cold seeped into her bones.

“I was getting the backpack from the kayak.” He’d softened his voice.

“I couldn’t see you and thought you were gone.” Damn that tremble in her voice again. She studied an open shelf, rubbing her hands up and down dead arms. She didn’t want to admit it to herself, but being here alone in this shack without him wasn’t something she wanted to contemplate.

He put a hand on her shoulder and spun her around, his warm hand on her chin. “Promise me on the return trip if that happens again you won’t ever take off your life jacket.” His face had softened, but his eyes were sharp as they held hers.

A sharp gust of wind rattled the small tin shack.

She shivered. “I don’t think I’m getting back in a kayak ever, so you don’t have to worry about me.”

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow. The storm has kicked in for the night. I’ll check, but we’re stuck here.” He walked to a satellite phone on a desk and started pushing buttons. In a few minutes, he was in a brief conversation with the resort and turned back, his face grim.

She walked to a large battered sailor-type chest and pried open the lid: a gray blanket and a flashlight which didn’t work, but rattled. A couple of bottles of water completed the contents. She grabbed the blanket and pulled it around her shoulders, grateful for the warmth. Dusk was approaching, and the flashlight would come in handy if she could get it to work. She opened the metal tube, and the batteries fell out. A gold star taped to the positive end of the battery. At least they had the prize. She thought back to the clue and murmured, “Starlight, star bright, the brightest star you’ll see tonight will be in your hands.”

She reassembled the flashlight and turned it on, then held out the star from the torch. “Looks like we’re the first here.”

Zan stood beside her and pulled his hand through his hair, making it stand on end. Goose bumps moved like an army down his arms.

“Here.” She offered half of the blanket, which he took, the side of his body pressed tightly into hers. Thigh to thigh, hip to hip, her shoulder into his arm. She fought a shiver, but not from the cold.

“I’ve confirmed with the resort. We’re stuck here for the night. The waves and the current are too high for someone to make it out here and back safely.”

She bit her lip. Silence as thick as mud oozed between them. “This isn’t on my to-do list today.”

“We’ll have to run with it.” He dropped the blanket, picked up the backpack he’d slung over his shoulder earlier, and pulled out the contents.

He held out a packet of confectionary. “Skittles. The only thing that survived. Don’t say I don’t know how to show a girl a good time.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a lazy, sensual smile.

The tension of the last few minutes started to ease.

She cracked the Skittles and hunted for the red ones.

“Tonight, we’re going to share body heat.”