He barked a laugh. “Your virtue is safe with me,” he said, hearing the edge in his voice. Because it was true—she was safe with him. He was done pursuing her, trying to make her admit she wanted him. They were stuck here all night, with nothing else to do, nobody else to talk to.

  It was, in fact, a golden opportunity. His anger melted away, and he realized he would happily kiss Amy Hughes right now for giving him this chance. Her schemes were going to enable them to sit here all night until Heather admitted what he was certain was true: that they were magnificent together.

  So it wasn’t exactly what Heather had pictured as a once-in-a-lifetime love. He suspected he could offer her more than she imagined.

  Did that mean he loved her? Hell, what did he know? He’d been so fucked over by somebody he believed he’d loved, he had intentionally removed the word from his vocabulary.

  But he wanted Heather in every way he could have her. And that had to count for something.

  Hearing her talk about her parents, thinking about the way his dad and her mom were with each other...well, he wasn’t exactly ready to open a Hallmark store, but he was at least starting to remember that not every relationship was doomed.

  Maybe there could be somebody in the world who really cared for him just for who he was, and not for what he could provide. Maybe he could let down his guard enough to open his heart and feel the same way about that person.

  And maybe he’d already met her.

  “What do we do now?” She glanced toward the western sky. “The sun’s going to set soon. It’ll be pitch black.”

  Bending down to search through the bags of things Amy and Jerry had left them, he spotted a lighter. Thankful he wouldn’t have to rub two sticks together, he said, “Why don’t I start gathering some brush from the trees and I’ll build us a fire. It shouldn’t be cold tonight, but it’ll give us some light, anyway.”

  Heather nodded, obviously liking having a plan. While he got the wood, she unpacked the bags. Amy and Jerry’s scheme had been pretty thorough—not only had they each been left changes of clothes plus beach towels, there were even two sleeping bags. And, to his surprise, a small tent. They could easily sleep on the beach, but it was nice to know they had a tent, just in case.

  While he started the fire, Heather opened the cooler and began pulling out food and a bottle of wine. They might be stranded on a desert isle, but the chef had made sure they wouldn’t starve.

  “Feeling better?” he asked her as she poured two glasses of white wine.

  She sipped hers and nodded. “I suppose there are worse ways to be stranded.”

  “Yeah, Tom Hanks’s way was worse.”

  “And Robinson Crusoe’s,” she said with a tiny smile.

  “But nothing compares to the Donner party’s...”

  She fisted her hand and punched him in the upper arm. “They weren’t castaways, you dope. And just so you know, if we have to resort to cannibalism by tomorrow, I’ve been told I’m very stringy.”

  He laughed and ran his fingertips down her soft, feminine arm. She watched him, tensing, but didn’t pull away.

  “There’s not a stringy thing about you,” he said. “You’re absolutely perfect.”

  She shifted her gaze away, visibly nervous, and he suspected she, too, had been thinking about the fact that they were stranded here, alone, for the entire night.

  After the loaded conversation they’d shared by the waterfall when she’d revealed so much of herself, he imagined she’d have preferred a chance to go to her stateroom, curl up in bed and lick her wounds. But she wasn’t getting that chance.

  He would have to tread carefully. The last thing he wanted was to make her feel any worse, or make her think he didn’t understand. Or that he hadn’t opened up his mind to the possibility that he’d been very, very wrong.

  “Me make fire. Ugh. Strong like bull.”

  She snickered, the tension dying. “Yes, caveman, now come sit down and have some of this magnificent caviar. It may not be Beluga, but we’ll just have to rough it tonight.”

  He groaned dramatically. “If we must.”

  Although they had the table and two chairs, he grabbed one of the sleeping bags and spread it out beside the crackling fire. The air was cooling as the sun fell farther toward the horizon. Here, on the eastern shore, they wouldn’t be able to see it set. They could only watch as it disappeared behind the jungle of trees running down the middle of the island. And within minutes, the shadows of dusk spread across the beach and the softly blowing breeze began to carry the faintest hint of a chill.

  They ate their spectacular picnic on the blanket, enjoying the caviar, as well as leftover jerk chicken from this afternoon’s cookout, plus fruits and cheeses, spicy-sweet grilled plantains and even slices of coconut cream pie. There was still plenty of food left for a midnight snack and breakfast tomorrow, plus several bottles of water.

  They’d be fine. Absolutely fine. Nothing bad could happen, and maybe something very good would come of this enforced proximity.

  “Oh, crap, what is that?”

  Hearing tension in her voice, Nate followed her stare toward the water. “What?”

  But she didn’t have to answer. A sharp, bright light rent the sky over the ocean. Probably miles away, but definitely powerful enough to pierce the darkness of the evening sky.

  “It’s heat lightning. That’s all.”

  His words had no sooner left his mouth than a long, low rumble of thunder split the night.

  “Perfect,” Heather said. She drew closer to him. “Do you think the storm is headed this way?”

  “Nah,” he said, willing it to be true. “It’s probably miles from here.” Forcing a laugh, he added, “Serves everyone on the boat right. I hope they get rained out, too.”

  Her giggle was a little shrill, but she tried to keep up the positive thinking. “Maybe they’ll have to play charades for entertainment.”

  “Whew, we dodged a bullet on that one, Red.”

  Suddenly, the wind picked up. Hard, cool gusts came off the water, carrying sand, grit and salt spray right toward them. They were close to the water’s edge, and he noticed how the normally soft, gentle waves were growing larger and rolling in closer together, hitting the shore with audible intensity. Each was capped with white foam, as whatever was happening at sea affected the surf.

  “I think we’re in trouble,” Heather said, having to raise her voice above the sound of the surf and the wind.

  Lightning flashed again, closer now, a magnificent display. A loud clap of thunder came right on its heels.

  Shit. She was right. They weren’t going to escape this. The storm was headed right toward them.

  He immediately got to his feet, pulling her to hers. “We can’t stay on the beach,” he snapped. “The sand is wet. This is the last place we want to be in a lightning storm.”

  She nodded. Her lips moved, but no sound came out. Her eyes were wide, a little frightened, and he stroked her cheek to try to calm her down.

  “We’ll be fine. Grab the sleeping bags and follow me. We have to find a clearing where I can set up the tent.”

  She didn’t ask questions. One thing he loved about Heather, she knew how to keep her head. Together, they grabbed what they needed and headed for the treeline, the wind buffeting them along. The rain hadn’t started yet, but the lightning was closer than ever, the thunder rumbling right over their heads.

  “What about here?” she called as soon as they were under the canopy. “It’ll give us more shelter than just the tent.”

  He shook his head and kept going, glad for the flashlight setting on his phone. “We can’t risk being under a tree.”

  Again, she didn’t argue. They went about fifteen yards into the jungle before they reached a spot flat and open enough for him to feel comfortable. “Hold the light for me while I set this tent up, would you? We’ll be inside, safe and dry, in just a minute.”

  He hoped.

  She did, aiming the beam of the phone light toward the ground as he quickly unfolded the tent. Thankfully, it was a pretty simple, pop-up style, easily big enough for the two of them. Nate got it spread out, slammed some supportive stakes into the ground, tied it off and then extended the poles. They were about five feet tall, strong and thick, and should be enough to keep the hopefully waterproof, nylon tent securely in place.

  Thick plops of rain started to come down just as he finished. He grabbed the sleeping bags and tossed them inside.

  “Come on.”

  Heather took a step toward him, but then froze. “Wait, Nathan, all our stuff is right by the water.”

  “Forget it, come on.”

  “But the surf might wash everything away. We might need food and water! What if the boat gets caught in the storm and can’t get back here in the morning?”

  She headed for the beach, but she only took two steps before another massive lightning bolt turned night to day, right over their heads. The lightning was accompanied by a massive crash of thunder that sounded as explosive as a cannon.

  Nate yelled a warning, realizing Heather was standing under a huge tree, which was swaying wildly in the rough wind. He suddenly envisioned that tree coming down on her, or the lightning hitting her.

  Panic filled him. Reacting purely on instinct, he ran right toward her, faster than he ever had on the field. Nate saw nothing but her terrified face, was focused on nothing but keeping her safe.

  He dove, catching her around the waist, and rolled with her out from under the tree. Even as they bumped across the wet ground, he heard the sound of a limb snapping and caught the scent of electric fire. Not until they were several feet away, halfway under a bush, did he even take a breath. For a long moment, he just held her close, hugging her protectively under his body, both of them shaking and shuddering.

  A quick glance out from under the bush confirmed his deepest fear. The tree had split in two. Half of it remained upright. The other half was lying in a tangled heap of limbs and branches. Right where Heather had been standing.

  If he’d been a few seconds later, if his reflexes had been slower, she might have been badly injured. Or even killed.

  He squeezed her tighter until she gasped, but even then he didn’t let her go. He couldn’t help it, couldn’t let her out of his arms, not now when he’d realized in those few frantic seconds just how much she meant to him.

  Not now that he knew he was madly in love with the woman.

  Her words about how short and precarious life could be had been lurking in the back of his mind. And when he’d been confronted by that awful possibility, all the self-protective instincts that had warned him not to let anybody get too close had disappeared. Nothing had mattered except Heather.

  The brief glimmer of an instant when he’d envisioned life without her had reinforced the truth. If he wanted her, he had to trust her with every bit of himself—his mind, his body, his heart. He had to open himself up to all the emotion he’d told himself he didn’t want. Had to let himself feel it and trust she would never betray it.

  In that moment, he knew he did. He trusted her completely.

  And he was never going to let her go.

  * * *

  THE STORM LASTED for a few hours, the rain coming down in a torrential tidal wave. The skies quaked and the never-ending bolts of lightning brightened even the inside of the tent.

  But they were safe.

  Curled up together on the sleeping bags, they focused on each other and not on what was happening outside. And, gradually, the wicked tropical storm began to die down. The lightning bolts became fewer, the thunder rumbled much farther in the distance, the gusty wind ceased its howl. The rain continued to fall, but with a little less ferocity, and the tent kept them snug and dry. Eventually, Heather even stopped shaking.

  “You okay now?” Nate asked, apparently feeling her finally relax in his arms.

  “Yes,” she whispered, wishing she could see his face in the darkness, wanting the reassurance of that sexy smile. But his arms, his hot body, were a pretty good substitute, and when his mouth found hers in the darkness, she kissed him back, sighing in pleasure.

  Definite pleasure. He moved his hands up and down her spine, dropping one to cup her ass, squeezing gently. Heather said nothing, merely slipping out of her skirt and swimsuit, and pulling his clothes off him. She pushed him onto his back and sat astride him, needing to feel a little more in control than she had earlier tonight.

  He seemed to understand, letting her set the pace, the tone, everything. His hands on her hips, he led her to him, ready for her, as she’d known he would be. Just as she was ready.

  Holding her breath, Heather lowered herself onto his rigid cock, taking him into her body. She sank all the way down in one slow motion, until he was fully sheathed within her, and stayed that way for a few long moments.

  He reached for her face, brushing his thumb over her lips and murmuring, “I’ve never been more scared in my life than when I saw you under that tree.”

  “I know, I’m sorry,” she replied, slowly beginning to rock on him, gentle thrusts that gave both pleasure and comfort.

  It went on for a long while, the achingly sweet but equally sultry loving. Their bodies became coated with sweat, their hot breaths loud in the small tent. Heather forgot about everything going on outside, focusing only on the storm of emotion in her heart and the tsunami of desire in her body.

  Eventually, he rolled her over and moved between her thighs, driving into her again and again. Heather arched up to meet every thrust. She wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing his mouth to hers, wanting not one inch of humid air between them. And when they both reached the highest peak, she whispered his name against his lips as they came.

  Afterward, they slept for a while, naked and tangled together, hot bodies in the hot night.

  When she awoke, she could hear only the softest patter of rain on the tent. She shifted out from under him, reached for the zipper on the end of the tent and drew it down.

  “Storm’s almost over,” he murmured.

  “Yes, seems so.” She looked out at the pile of limbs fifteen feet away, where she had come so close to being crushed. She shivered, and Nate drew her close, kissing her brow.

  “Do you think they’re okay?” she whispered.

  “I’m sure the captain outran the storm,” he replied, knowing exactly what she meant. “They’ll be fine. And so will we.”

  “Thanks to you.”

  He cleared his throat. “I don’t just mean physically.”

  Heather lay back down with him, noting that she could again see his face. The storm clouds had mostly blown by, and enough moon and starlight sifted through the trees and the tent to enable her to make out his handsome features.

  “I need to tell you something,” he said.

  She knew by his tone that whatever he wanted to say was important. “Okay.”

  “I’ve spent the last ten months clearing my name. And my head.”

  “Yes, it must have been awful.”

  “That’s an understatement. The reporters were ruthless.” He sighed. “Felicity is America’s darling right now.”

  Heather managed to bite back her opinion of the darling. Calling that witch a darling was like calling Lizzie Borden America’s sweetheart.

  “The day I found out about the pregnancy, I thought I was prepared for what was headed my way. I wasn’t. I didn’t really have a clue how far the paparazzi were willing to go until I caught a photographer hiding in my house.”

  She gasped. “He broke in?”

  “I think he was hoping I’d hit him so he could press charges, or at least talk me into not pressing charges of my own. But my dad was with me, and he kept me cool enough to call the cops and let them handle it.”

  She couldn’t imagine that. His life as a popular athlete was public enough. Being cast as a villain in Felicity Monroe’s personal Shakespearean tragedy had made him a target of crime and vitriol.

  “They started stalking my old college girlfriend, who’s now a married mom. They followed me everywhere. Went through my trash and reported that I’d thrown away a baby blanket, hand knit by Felicity, which was complete bullshit.”

  She remembered that headline. “She doesn’t look like the knitting type.”

  “That’s for sure,” he said with a chuckle. “Anyway, I can only imagine how the press would have treated the ‘mysterious redhead’ who ‘stole’ me away from Miss MTV, which is how she would have spun it.”

  “I hate her.” Able now to at least grasp what she might have been in for, Heather said, “Thank you for trying to protect me. I know that’s why you ended things and stayed away.”

  “Yeah, it is, but that’s not why I’m telling you this. What I want to say is, Felicity told me many times that she’d done it for love.”

  “What, cheated on you?”

  He nodded.

  She didn’t quite understand. “So, she wanted to rub it in that she was in love with this other guy?”

  He snorted. “No, she did it out of love for me.”

  “Oh, that’s a unique approach.”

  “Manipulative, remember? She said she was using him. He was a music producer and she wanted his undivided attention. She also hoped that cheating with him would get my undivided attention, which she thought she was losing. She was so desperate to hold on to me, she had to make me jealous.”

  “Was that the truth?”

  It took a while for him to answer. She wondered if he’d even evaluated that himself, what he’d been feeling before his relationship had so publicly imploded.

  Finally, he said, “I guess it was. I was pretty infatuated with her at first—or, at least, the persona that she presented to me. I proposed quickly and was shocked when she said yes.”

  “Are you kidding? She knew an amazing thing when she saw it.” She squeezed his hand. “Don’t sell yourself short.”

  “I don’t mean to. But she was the hottest thing on the air, dating movie stars and rap moguls.”

  “And you were the hottest thing on the field, sexier than any man has a right to be, and probably making tons of money.”

  “Yeah, the money definitely had something to do with it. As did notching her belt with somebody who’d never been linked to another celebrity before.”