Sophie drew back. “This is kind of silly, don’t you think?”

“Kissing you?”

“No, hiding in a dark room while you kiss me. There’s no one here to see us. We don’t have to sneak around.”

He chuckled softly. “You’re right. Old habits, I guess.”

Sophie wanted to ask what he’d meant by that, but she bit her tongue and stepped out of his embrace. Light poured into the room as she threw open a set of shutters. When Sophie turned back around, she found Trey surveying the interior of the cottage with a look of amazement.

“What the hell is this?” he asked. Crossing to stand next to one of the windows, he frowned as he read. “This is really weird. Who wrote all of this?”

“Passing sailors,” Sophie said. “From all over the world. It’s like a diary of this island. Thirty years’ worth of visits. And look what they left.” She crossed the room to the small counter and picked through the assortment of canned goods. “Spam,” she said, holding up a square tin. “It’s some kind of canned meat, I think.”

“Ah, no thanks.”

“Artichoke hearts?”

Trey shook his head, wrinkling his nose. “Only in a nice parmesan sauce over pasta.”

“Baked beans. Men always love baked beans.” She grabbed another tin. “And smoked oysters.”

“I’ve heard those are an aphrodisiac,” Trey said, sending her a playful leer. “I don’t think we need any more help in that area, do you?”

“Probably not,” Sophie said, pleased that he found no fault with their sex life. She bent down and opened the cabinet beneath the counter, curious to see what there was in the way of cooking utensils. She gasped in surprise. “Oh, my! Look at this. I think I’ve found something we can both agree on.” She grabbed one of the bottles lying on the shelf and held it up. “Wine.”

“Really?” Trey strode across the room and knelt down beside her. There were five or six bottles lying inside the cabinet including a couple of French vintages and a Merlot from the Napa Valley. “Nice. Although in this heat, the bottles might have gone bad. We’ll need a corkscrew.”

“I think there might be one in the pocketknife you were using from the plane,” Sophie said.

Trey sat back on his heels. “Instead of carting this stuff over to the other side of the lagoon, maybe we should just move camp, like you suggested. This cottage seems pretty weather tight. And the food and water are here.”

“But what about your shelter?”

“I think my ego will give way to comfort,” Trey admitted. “It did the trick for a while, but this seems to be a much better place to spend the night, don’t you agree?” He slowly stood and glanced around the room. “So this isn’t really a deserted tropical island. And we could have company at any minute.”

“I suppose we could,” Sophie said. “But it’s not likely. There aren’t many sailors who’d brave the typhoon season in the South Pacific. It would make for miserable sailing.”

“Good,” he murmured. “I don’t want any company. I’m enjoying the relaxed dress code.”

Sophie rearranged the cans on the counter. “After we move over here, I’ll make us a Christmas dinner and we’ll settle in and wait to get rescued.”

Just the word rescue brought a flood of regret. As much as Sophie wanted it to last, this time on the island would come to a very quick end. It would be over before she knew it, and all she’d be left with was memories. She let her gaze drift slowly down Trey’s body, then back up again. She had grown so used to having him near, and in such a short time.

They’d tossed aside the last of their inhibitions when they’d discarded their clothes. Now, there was nothing but a bit of fabric between her touch and his body, between his hands and her bare skin. If she wanted him, all she had to do was reach out and untie the knot in the pareu.

Temptation was always there, just within her reach. She could be naked in a matter of seconds and so could he. Both of them knew they wouldn’t be able to keep their hands off each other for very long. But it was an arousing game to try.

Sophie stepped toward him, tempted to pick up where they’d left off. But she twisted her fingers together in front of her. They had a lot of work to do and the sooner they got it done, the sooner they could relax. “If you could go gather our things from the other camp, I’ll get wood for the fire,” she said.

“I can help you with the wood,” he countered, grabbing her hand and placing it on his chest.

Just a simple touch sent a shiver of desire through her, strong enough for Sophie to realize that, from now on, working together was impossible. No doubt they’d find some excuse to touch each other again and then work would be forgotten in favor of sex.

“I’ll be fine,” she said. “The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can…relax.”

He gave her a look, as if he knew exactly what she implied with the word relax. “All right,” he said.

They strolled out of the cottage and stood on the porch. “Go on,” she said. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

He took her hand and pressed a kiss to the middle of her palm, drawing his tongue along her index finger, before putting her fingertip in his mouth. It was a provocative gesture and one that made her heart skip a beat. “You promise?”

“Where am I going to go?” Sophie teased. “It’s an island.”

Trey nodded reluctantly. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He kissed her hand again, then stepped off the porch. “So, I’ll see you in a little while.”

“Yes, you will.”

They made a good team, Sophie mused as she watched Trey walk away. He was so even-tempered, so unselfish, that she couldn’t imagine them ever disagreeing. And even though they didn’t know each other at all, she couldn’t imagine having a better companion on a deserted tropical island.

Maybe working for him wouldn’t be such a crazy idea. If he really was going to build his resort, then she could be a valuable help to him. And it would add a lot more excitement to her life. Plus, there was the benefit of spending more time with Trey once they got off this island. And more time meant…well, more sex, didn’t it?

Still, Sophie had already decided her future wasn’t here on the islands, but in some exciting city. Was she willing to give up on that dream for good sex? A tiny smile quirked at the corners of her mouth. Maybe. If the sex was really good.

As for a real relationship, one that included love and commitment, Trey had a life of his own back in the States. And she wasn’t about to follow him around, begging for his attention whenever he might want to give it. This was a twenty-four-hour fling, nothing more. Once the twenty-four hours were over, they would be, too. And then, she’d find a way to start her new life away from these islands-on her own.

IT DIDN’T TAKE VERY LONG for Trey to gather their meager belongings. He put everything he could carry onto the canvas tarp and then tied it up with the ropes. He thought it might be easy to drag it along the sand, but in the end, he waded out into knee-deep water and floated the bundle as he walked.

The plane and his attempt at a campfire were the only things he left behind in their first camp. In truth, he was a bit sad to leave, even though they’d only lived at the location for the morning. They’d made love on the sand there and she’d pleasured him beneath the small clump of coconut palms. Once they moved, would things suddenly change?

When they’d first tumbled onto the beach, wrapped in each other’s arms, he hadn’t even thought about the consequences of what they were about to do. He’d been so glad to be alive, he hadn’t thought of anything else.

But with each touch, each kiss, his feelings for Sophie were growing. Was it simply because they were here alone, without anyone to interfere? In the past ten years, the press had hounded him unmercifully. Every relationship he’d gone into had been splashed across the pages of some magazine. He hadn’t been able to enjoy anything close to a normal romance with a woman.

Being here with Sophie was the nearest he’d come. And to his surprise, he was falling fast. He could barely stand to be away from her, so addicted was he to her presence. He had to fight to keep from touching her and kissing her. And there were times when he honestly felt he could be content simply listening to her voice for the next fifty years.

Was this what it was like to fall in love? Trey shook his head, pushing the thought from his brain. He’d met Sophie seven hours ago! Besides, he didn’t have a clue about what it was like to be in love. Lust, now that was another thing. But love wasn’t something Trey had ever experienced for himself.

As he approached the ruins of the old village, Trey called for Sophie. When she didn’t respond, he dragged their belongings onto the shore and went in search of her. After ten minutes, he came to the conclusion that she was either too far away to hear him or something was wrong.

Raking his fingers through his hair, Trey tried to calm the fear that coursed through his body. If something had happened, there was nothing he could do. They were alone on this island with no help available. Drawing a deep breath, he tried to think of where she might have gone.

He would have seen her had she walked along the shoreline. “Wood,” he muttered, spinning around to find a small pile of palm fronds near the front steps of the cottage. She’d probably walked across to the ocean side to search for wood.

He ran back through the grove of palms, past the water tanks, toward the ocean side of the motu. Sophie wouldn’t have been stupid enough to go swimming on her own. Hell, even he knew better than that.

Trey ran until his lungs burned, weaving through the tangled underbrush and dodging palm trees. When he burst out of the trees onto the beach, he bent over and gulped a deep breath of the humid ocean air. Sweat dripped down his chest and his legs were cut and bleeding from the sharp edges of old palm fronds.