Trial Run: Addicted To Love Romance Collection (16 page)

Rob’s grip slackened on her fingers, and she checked his face worriedly. His eyes were closed, but he wore the biggest smile on his face. As she watched, he sighed deeply and let out a deep breath.

“Rob? Rob!” Amelie shook him, and when he didn’t react, she checked his pulse. Still there. The fever had robbed him of his awareness once again, but he was still there, still fighting. “Don’t you dare leave me now, Rob Tyson! You didn’t hold on long enough to hear the answer. What if you don’t remember what you asked, huh? What then? You think I have it in me to wait another ten years for you?”

When there was still no movement from Rob, she slid back to the side of the boat and let the silent tears flow freely.

Why did men have such bad timing?

Amelie sat back on her haunches, watching Rob’s chest rise and fall slowly. He was out again, and to be fair, it was probably better that way. She found the awkward movement of the boat jarring and uncomfortable, and sitting in water was getting old, too. It was one thing to lounge around on soft sand or on the steps of a luxury pool, and an entirely different thing being forced to do the same in the crumbling shell of a boat, with God knew how many miles of sea beneath her. She tried very hard not to dwell on that idea.

Rob awoke once, late morning, and drank some water, but he’d spent the rest of the day unresponsive. If it hadn’t been for his regular breathing, Amelie would have really freaked. That was all that stood between her and insanity. That little movement of his chest.

There was no way she could survive without him. Somehow, even with her holding the boat on an exact westerly course, she didn’t believe she would have been capable of doing it without Rob’s unintended, imaginary support.

Dark clouds had gathered overhead, and the breeze strengthened. Their made-up sail was puffed up and stretched as much as it would go, and there was nothing left for Amelie to do now, other than wait and hope the wind and currents would take them home. She could live with the discomfort, as long as she had hope, and Rob was breathing by her side.

When she felt hungry, she pulled out a coconut from the bag, together with the knife and the hatchet. She worked the tip of the knife into the eyes and drank the water before she hit the coconut with the flat end of the hatchet the way Rob had taught her to. It split after two hits, and she munched on fresh coconut, vowing to go on a coconut sabbatical as soon as she got back home.

Rob’s injured leg seemed to have mutated to some sort of irregular-shaped, blotchy club by the time the wind began to gust and the clouds completely obscured the sun. The boat lurched this side and that, its ungainly form challenging the push of the wind in its sails like a sulky toddler resisting bedtime. Amelie stared at the sky warily. How would the boat fare in a storm? It had made it through a storm once, barely. It was anyone’s guess what would happen now. Another thought she really didn’t want to dwell on.

To distract herself, she drew the bag of supplies over, and pulled it open. Coconuts. That was the sum total of their provisions. She wondered how long seven coconuts would keep them alive. Two or three days? Longer, maybe? Her mind dredged up some long-forgotten article – or was it a conversation she’d been witness to? – some sort of study which proved a person of average weight and height would be able to survive indefinitely on one coconut a day.

Ugh! She shuddered. No more coconuts! She was sick of the damned things. Her stomach growled and she lifted another one out of the bag, sizing it up in her hand. No way could that study be right. She’d had a coconut already and she felt like she hadn’t eaten for a week. Her gaze drifted to Rob. Maybe she should try to get him to eat some. Not that she thought it likely he would be strong enough for that, but she should try.

Determined, she dropped the coconut back in the bag and rummaged for the knife. It had wedged itself into the leaf wrapped around her birthday present from Rob. With a sigh, she pulled at the leaf, and the thing came loose easily. To her surprise, the shell fell apart into two almost perfect halves. Something wood colored was hidden inside.

A niggling thought counted down their rations from seven to six just as she reached for the secret gift. She lifted it out of the bag gingerly and tears began streaming down her cheeks. In her hands rested a wooden heart, faultlessly shaped and smooth, and so perfect, it could only have come from the hands of a man truly in love.

The heart was made of many little fragments, small lumps of different types of wood carved into three-dimensional puzzle pieces that fitted together to form the most seamless shape. With shaky fingers, she pushed gently on a piece, and it slid through and out of the whole. She touched another, and it moved out of the way, revealing an intricate outline to its other side.

Worried she wouldn’t be able to reassemble the puzzle, Amelie quickly fitted the missing pieces back into the whole and hugged the wooden heart to her chest. Her love for Rob swelled to unimaginable proportions. She’d doubted the validity of his earlier declaration, thought his ‘I love you’ and sudden marriage proposal were nothing more than the result of his raging fever. But now, stroking the silkiness of a wooden heart, she finally believed he’d meant it. How silly and petulant of her, to ignore his gift for the last few days! Now he didn’t even know how grateful she was.

What if he never woke up? What if this wooden heart was all she’d be left with – a bitter reminder of her immature moping that tainted the last few days he’d selflessly given her?

Suddenly anxious, she made her way to Rob and kneeled by his side. She pulled his head up on her knees and kissed his forehead gently. His skin was clammy and cold, and as she checked his breathing, she thought it was a little more irregular, more labored than before.

How ironic it would be, what a cruel twist of fate, if she was to lose him now, when she’d finally gotten through and made him admit his love for her. But wasn’t life always this way? All the struggle, all the tears, all the superhuman effort, and whoosh – it could be ripped from you in an instant. That was exactly why she had decided to be her own woman, an island – self-reliant, independent, never giving her heart away. Except… She hadn’t counted on Rob being able to worm his way into her heart the way he did. She had completely underestimated the depth of her own love for him. And now she was stuck on a boat, in the middle of the sea, helpless, and oh, so close to losing him all over again, this time forever.

The rain began to pitter-patter on her back, but she stayed where she was, sheltering Rob’s face from the rain and letting it mix with her tears. After a while, the clouds ruptured and the deluge started, and with it the winds also surged, howling like a pack of rabid wolves.

She shuffled back, against the entrance to the tiny cabin, holding Rob’s head to her chest and leaning over him. Hours passed, and she didn’t let go, one arm around Rob, the other clutching the wooden heart. Too exhausted to worry, too disheartened to pray, Amelie sat and stared into the darkness, waiting for the hours to pass, waiting for her fate to come to her.

Waiting for Rob to die.

Knowing it would kill her, too.

A loud ripping noise followed by a massive shudder were the first signs of trouble Amelie reacted to. Until then, the shudders of the boat, the water splashing over the side, the howling of the wind – everything – added up to just unpleasant sailing. This, however, felt ominous.

She wriggled out from beneath Rob, leaning his shoulders and head against the cabin wall just high enough to be sure he wouldn’t choke on the sloshing-about sea water, and made her way to the rail on her knees, not trusting her balance while the boat was behaving like a bucking bronco. At least they’d made it through the night. For that, she was grateful.

One hand on the rail and the other clutching the edge of the hull, she raised herself up slowly, peeking over the bow. What little light the dawn provided was enough to make her heart sink. The sail was no more. In its place, ribbons of cloth were fluttering in the gusting wind like poorly made bunting. One of the masts had broken clean in half, right above the rope that tied it to the handrail, and now it swung wildly above her head, still attached at one end to the cloth. As the wind gusted and dropped, and then gusted again, the lump of wood came sailing down toward her. Amelie ducked out of the way, but the wooden projectile flew off again before it could hit her.

Keeping low, Amelie searched for the water bottle and the bag. Nothing. The storm must have washed them overboard. She had nothing left, other than Rob and his wooden heart. The knife and hatchet had gone with the bag.

Dejected, she crawled back to Rob, dry sobs heaving from her chest. She knew there was no point kicking herself about her lack of foresight now, though Rob’s sharp words from a few days ago still stung in her memory.
You didn’t think…
You just can’t be trusted. What does it take for you to act like an adult, Amelie?

Exhausted, desperate, and with the last reserves of hope fading away, all Amelie could manage to do was cuddle Rob and beg him to keep breathing. No matter how angry he might be with her when he woke up – at her lack of common sense, sailing ability or nursing prowess – she would take it all. She would take his ire, she would cherish the sparkle in those burning dark eyes, and she would love him even more… if only he would keep breathing.

For hours, Amelie held Rob to her chest and begged him to keep fighting… keep breathing… stay alive... When her voice failed her, she just held him and stroked his hair. Rob didn’t regain consciousness at all during the day.

By dusk, the storm morphed into high winds, but the rain had stopped. For Amelie, that small mercy seemed too little, too late. Angry purple ribbons snaked up Rob’s injured leg, and several times that afternoon she’d thought he had stopped breathing.

Helpless and completely worn out, Amelie let go of her last shard of hope, grabbed hold of her love and the symbol of his love for her, gave him a last kiss goodbye and closed her eyes, waiting for the end.

Dylan and Marlon Bailey were having the time of their lives. This pool party had been the best they’d ever put together. Over twenty of their classmates had shown up, and the decking around the pool was awash with bodies – some lounging, some jumping in, some waiting to be splashed. The lights around the garden had just come on, and now that the barbecue had been cleared away and Mom and Dad had gone inside, they could really have some fun.

Grinning from ear to ear, they slipped and slid their way down the path to the summer kitchen, where the secondary fridge was located, to replenish their stack of sodas. Marlon held the cooler, while Dylan emptied the fridge as fast as he could, making sure he grabbed something for everyone.

A heavy bumping noise against the decking, just beyond some vegetation that was thick enough to obscure the sea, stopped Dylan mid-grab.

“What’s that?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.

Marlon listened, too. The thumping came again. Dylan let the fridge door drift shut, and his brother lowered the cooler gently to the floor. Keeping close together, they tiptoed toward it, and peered out from behind the last firebush.

What they saw ignited their young teenage imaginations. The half-boat, half-raft construction seemed to have drifted over to them right from the adventure books Gran kept reading from. There may be an explorer on the boat… Or some criminal waiting to pounce and hold them up for ransom.

Though born after his twin, Dylan was the quicker of the two. He was smart enough to know when to involve an adult.

“Go get Dad,” he said, poking his brother.

Marlon didn’t waste any time. He turned on his heel and shot back to the house.

Dylan tiptoed closer, out from behind the bush, his heart thumping loudly in his ears.

No one jumped out of the boat, brandishing daggers or guns. There was no movement, other than the soft bumping of wood on wood. Rags or something like that hung limp from a tree trunk that had been wedged behind a handrail, and he could just make out vines twisted together to make rope. Who did that? That was what marooned sailors used, on desert islands.

He dropped to his knees and crawled to the edge of the decking, then edged his body over the side of the boat. Whoa! He’d only caught sight of the swollen leg for a second, but it looked awesome! Really gross!

Eyes wide as saucers, he leaned over again, and this time he caught slow movement. Out from beneath a small overhang, a face peered up at him.

“Please… Help me…” she whispered, then choked.

Dylan scrambled to his feet and ran straight back to the house as fast as his young legs would take him.

Bright lights scratched the inside of her skull, it seemed. Amelie screwed up her face and pulled an arm over her eyes, to shelter them from the harsh light. A warm hand wrapped around hers and pulled it back down again.

“Stay still. You need to rest.”

She squinted, trying to focus on the soft voice.

“Jason?”

“Hi.” He smiled a tight smile and sighed deeply.

Memories flooded back, making her head spin with the range of her emotions. “Oh, Jason!” Amelie sobbed. “I never thought we would make it. I thought we were going to die.” Deep sobs racked her body and tears began streaming down her cheeks.

“Shh. It’s okay. You’re safe now.”

But Amelie didn’t seem to be able to stem the flow of tears. They were safe. Somehow, they’d made it back, and they were going to be all right. Rob would get better and then they could pick up where they’d left off. The relief was making her giddy.

“W-where am I?” she mumbled.

“Jackson Memorial.”

“Rob?”

Jason’s expression darkened. “He’s here, too.” He blinked a few times, then his nostrils flared and he shot an accusatory glare her way. “Did you…” He sucked in a deep breath and swallowed hard. “Did you and Rob have sex?”

His penetrating stare pierced straight through her and Amelie felt like a child again, being told off for some transgression she wasn’t even aware she’d caused. Only she wasn’t a child anymore. She was a fully grown woman, and Jason’s interfering was no longer welcome.

“That’s really none of your business, Jason,” she said in a level tone.

He nodded, his gaze drifting over to the side. “That answers my question.”

Amelie watched a muscle twitch in Jason’s jaw for a moment, then she followed his glance to the side. On top of her bedside cabinet was the wooden heart. She gasped and stretched the arm that didn’t have an IV in it toward the heart.

Jason snapped it up before she could.

He waited for her worried eyes to settle on his before he spoke again.

“You had this clutched in your hand. Wouldn’t let go of it. I figured there may have been some significance to it.”

“Give it back.”

Jason smirked, twisting the object in his hands, turning it around to look at it from all angles.

“Jason, give it back to me,” Amelie insisted.

“In a minute. Give me some answers, first.”

Amelie watched him warily. After the few days with Rob, Jason felt even more like a stranger to her. When had she grown so distant from her own brother?

“So, you two are now a couple…” he began. Amelie stayed silent. “Who initiated it? You or him?”

Amelie rolled her eyes. Jason poked a section of the wooden heart, and the piece fell out in his hand. He flicked it to her, and it landed on her chest. Amelie’s spare hand closed over it immediately.

“I did,” Amelie said, eyeing her gift with concern. “This really doesn’t concern you, Jason. We are both adults.”

“Sure you are,” he answered. “So tell me, then, dear sister… Have you considered all the consequences of your actions? Like an adult?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” she hissed, her temper beginning to push past her mental restraints.

Jason poked another piece of the puzzle out of the whole. “It means, for example, that you would take the appropriate steps so you wouldn’t end up with an unwanted pregnancy.”

Amelie felt her heart stutter, and then a warm feeling washed through her. “Pregnancy?” She heard her question, but wasn’t aware of speaking the word. She was carrying Rob’s baby? A picture of the two of them together, cuddling a baby between their chests, insinuated itself into her mind. This pregnancy wasn’t unwanted at all. A life with Rob and a child of their own was the best thing she could think of. A blessing.

“Yep,” Jason said and flicked the wooden piece at her. It bounced off her knuckle, but she made no move to grab it, too shocked by the news.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Well, the doctors are… And who am I to question their authority?”

A small smile began stretching her lips.

“I don’t see how that could be good news to you,” Jason muttered, poking out and flicking over another piece of the wooden heart. “It’s not like you mean anything to him.”

“Shut up, Jason. You have no idea! And if you knew it already, why bother to ask anyway?”

“
If I see anything I fancy, I grab, I use, I dispose
. His words, not mine.
Easy, safe and painless
.”

“That may have been something he said before he saw me. Rob is not that callous.”

“Really? He sat and told me that the night we rescued you from that insalubrious tattoo parlor. He saw you – stark naked and in all your drugged-up glory – before he uttered those words. He held you on his lap, disgusted of what you have become, all the way home. Helped me get you into bed.” He watched pain ripple on her face before he dug the knife deeper. “Did he tell you that? Did you have time, on your little adventure, to discuss his experience with women? How much he’s been hurt? What made him this way?”

No, no, no! She wouldn’t let doubt creep into her mind. Rob wasn’t like that. He couldn’t make love the way he did, day after day, and not mean it. He wouldn’t have spent the time making her a gift, preparing all the special things for her birthday. He loved her. He said so!

“But…” she started, her voice smaller than a whisper.

Jason flicked another puzzle piece to her. “So where did he wreck the boat? You weren’t where you were supposed to be.”

Another lump of wood landed on her lap. “Wreck? The storm… A freak storm hit and we…”

Jason nodded and picked another fragment out of the heart. “Yeah, it was that storm that made me start searching for you. I’ve been searching the whole of the Caribbean for you, every day for the last two weeks. Only we agreed on one location, and you weren’t there. That’s when I began to suspect he may have taken you away against your will, or maybe just kept quiet, so he could have his way with you. The bastard! He promised he wouldn’t touch you! I made him promise! Though at least he kept you alive…”

Jason’s anger lashed at Amelie’s mind, knocking sideways the questions growing there, not letting her form them properly. She struggled to comprehend what was going on, before Jason ruined everything.

“Wait, wait, wait,” she countered. “Are you saying Rob wrecked the boat on purpose? Because that’s insane. The storm hit out of the blue, and we had no way of steering…”

“Did
he
tell you that?”

“Yes…” There was suddenly not enough air in the room.

Jason sneered at her and shrugged. His fingers worried another piece out of the puzzle.

“What did you mean by we weren’t where you expected us to be?”

A chunk of wood fell close to her hand, and she grabbed it again, as if she needed to strengthen her connection with Rob, convince herself of his genuine affection.

“I mean we agreed you’d wreck somewhere like Hawksbill or Shroud Cay, so I would know where to find you.”

Hawksbill? Rob had mentioned that. But he was planning to get them out of there. He’d promised to get them back.

“Why would you arrange to meet us there? How would you even know we would wreck? Did you know about the storm?”

Something didn’t add up. She’d checked the weather forecast herself, right before the trip. There had been no warning. Jason was lying, twisting the truth to suit his aims, like he always did.

“Because we set it up. The storm just made it that much easier. We planned for you two to wreck on an island, so you would get a taste of what it would be like to live without having what you want right under your delicate princess nose.” Another piece of the puzzle settled on her chest. “I figured that would be the best way for you to grow up.”

Princess. Rob had called her that many times, in the beginning. Was he capable of doing what Jason was saying? Had she misjudged him so thoroughly? His heated kisses, the desire blazing in his eyes? Had he really used their circumstances to take advantage of her?

The air in the room had just gotten thicker. Amelie opened her mouth wide, sucking in as much of it as she physically could, but it was no use. She still felt like she was choking.

“I didn’t expect to win the bet, though. That’s just the icing on the cake.”

“Bet?” she whispered. Was there no end to this deception? Her life, her love, the most perfect man in the world – everything had been a lie?

“So I guess I can have anything I want now. Rob won’t be able to deny my wish.”