Trey wasn’t even sure how this would all work out, even if they decided they wanted it to. He lived in Los Angeles now and she lived in the South Pacific. And then there was her father, although perhaps he could be convinced to move back to the States given proper incentive.
Still, there was always the resort. If he could find a way to build it, then he’d be here with Sophie for at least a year or two. Living on an island in the middle of the South Pacific certainly wouldn’t seem so bad if Sophie was with him. Maybe they could build something together, like his grandparents had.
But he was getting ahead of himself. Trey wasn’t about to put all his hopes out there and risk Sophie rejecting him out of hand. No, he had to at least be certain she’d consider the possibility of a future together, permanent or otherwise, before he made any plans.
He’d come to this island unsure of his future. Now, if things went well, he’d be leaving with a purpose. That was a lot more than he’d been able to achieve in the first twenty-nine years of his life.
Sure, the thought of allowing himself to fall in love was a little scary. And he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t want to take off after just a few months. But the possibility of finding a woman to spend his life with was intriguing, especially if that woman was Sophie.
SOPHIE SMOOTHED HER HANDS through her damp hair and tugged on her T-shirt. It was Christmas and she and Trey were going to have a date-of sorts. It was only proper that she dressed for the occasion. And though she might have preferred a sparkling party dress with a low-cut back and a high-cut hem, this outfit was what she had available.
She glanced at the preparations she’d made for a light meal, laid out on the cabinets at the back of the cottage. They had wine, the rest of the crackers, another tin of oysters and a can of what seemed to be ham salad. Though they weren’t the most sophisticated hors d’oeuvres, they’d do in a pinch.
A knock sounded on the door and Sophie turned. Trey had been outside for the past half hour, biding his time and tending to the fire. But the rain had increased in intensity again, evident from the sound of it on the tin roof. She took a deep breath and walked over to the front door, then pulled it open.
But instead of setting eyes on Trey, she found herself staring at a clump of palm fronds tied together at the base with a short length of rope. Interwoven in the fronds were blooms picked from the vines on the porch. “Oh, you’ve brought me flowers,” she exclaimed.
He slowly lowered the fronds to reveal his face. “It’s supposed to be a Christmas tree,” Trey admitted.
Sophie smiled. It did look a bit like a tree, if she didn’t look too closely. And he’d done the best he could in their circumstances for ornaments. “It’s lovely,” she said, stepping aside to let him enter. “Thank you.”
He crossed the room to the lantern, then set the “tree” on the counter, leaning it up against the wall until it was balanced upright. He’d found his shirt and put it on, buttoning it properly and rolling up the sleeves, but his hair was still wet and his shorts soaked. “Not bad,” he murmured.
“It does look festive,” she said.
Trey plucked a blossom from the tree and turned to her, then tucked it behind her right ear. She fixed her gaze on his face, then reached up and turned the flower around. It was clear by the look in his eyes that he understood the signal. He bent closer, wrapping his arm around her waist and dropping a soft kiss on her lips.
“Merry Christmas, Sophie,” he murmured.
“Merry Christmas, Trey,” she replied, desire humming in her veins. Now that they were both dressed as they had been when they’d met, the thought of getting naked was even more exciting. She couldn’t just look at Trey and admire his body as she had for most of the day. Now, she was left to imagine what was hidden beneath the clothes.
“Would you like some champagne?”
He blinked in surprise. “We have champagne?”
Sophie picked up the bottle and held it out to him. “It was on the bottom, beneath the other bottles. Someone was thoughtful to leave it behind.”
“Very,” Trey said as he pulled the foil off the cork. “Let’s hope it’s still good.”
A moment later, the cork popped. He sniffed at the bottle. “It still smells okay.” Tipping it to his mouth, Trey took a sip and smiled. “It would probably be better chilled, but I’m not going to complain.” Trey held out the bottle. “A toast. To my lovely pilot and castaway companion. I can’t think of another person I would have wanted on this island with me.”
His words were incredibly sweet and Sophie couldn’t help but blush. Everything seemed so different now, as if they’d brushed aside a curtain hanging between them. It was all right to admit she cared about him and that her feelings were more than just lust. Trey Shelton was a man any woman would be lucky to claim as her own.
“We don’t have much time left here,” she said. “They’ll send out planes at first light. And they’ll probably come here first.”
“If they don’t?”
“They will. Sooner or later, they’ll find us. Or another boat will come along. If all else fails, we could try to fly out. I can drain the fuel sumps and we can hand prop the plane to start it. But I don’t really want to do that without knowing what’s wrong. Hand propping can be dangerous.”
“Hand propping? What is that?”
“That’s when I sit in the plane and you spin the propeller. If you don’t pull your hands back in time, they-well, you don’t have hands anymore.”
Trey held up his hands. “I kind of like these things. Besides, I don’t mind staying a few more days.”
Sophie smiled. “Your family will come looking for you, no doubt. Whether we like it or not, I’m afraid, we’re going to be rescued tomorrow.”
Trey gave her a reluctant smile. “Yeah. I know. But a guy can dream, can’t he?”
“It hasn’t been all bad,” she said, taking a sip of the champagne, the bubbles tickling her nose. “The landing wasn’t so much fun, but after that, it’s been pretty nice.”
He nuzzled her neck, biting softly. “Just nice?”
“Better than nice.” She shivered as his lips trailed to her shoulder. “It’s been interesting.”
“Oh, no, not interesting. Watching someone pet a puppy is nice. Watching someone build a house is interesting. Certainly, you have a better word than that for us.”
Sophie took another sip of the champagne and handed him the bottle. “All right. How about intoxicating?”
“How about tantalizing?”
“Enthralling?”
“Mind-blowing?”
“Earth-shattering.”
“We are good together,” he admitted. He set the bottle down on the counter and pulled her into his arms. A heartbeat later, his mouth was on hers, soft, yet demanding. His fingers ran through her hair, and he molded her lips to his.
Sophie had come to know his kiss so well. She could walk into a pitch-black room, filled with a hundred men and pick him out of the lot by just the fleeting touch of his mouth. How was it that she could know this part of him so well, the way he seduced her, the way he made her body ache with need, yet not even know what he liked to eat for breakfast or how he took his coffee?
She stepped out of his embrace and grabbed his hand, then led him over to the counter. Boosting herself up, Sophie drew him between her legs, her hands clutching the front of his shirt. “We’ve been on this island together for a day, but I don’t know anything about you.”
“I’m not very complicated,” Trey said. “But if you’re curious, ask away. I’ll answer any question you have. As long as you do the same for me.”
“This doesn’t have to be the Spanish Inquisition,” Sophie said. She turned and picked an oyster out of the tin and placed it on a cracker, then held it out to him. “We’ll pretend that we’ve just met at a holiday party. Your friend Bob and my friend Danielle introduced us. We find ourselves sitting together…on a terrace. Under the moonlight.” Sophie held out her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said. “What did you say your name was again?”
“Peter,” he said. “But my friends call me Trey.”
“Peter.” Sophie gave him a coy smile. “I’ll call you Pete. My name is Ann-Marie. But my friends call me Sophie.”
“Your name is really Ann-Marie?”
She nodded. “Sophie is my middle name. My mother is Ann-Marie. My father insisted I be named after her. But she always called me Sophie, so it stuck.”
Trey nodded. “I like this,” he said. “So, Sophie, what do you say we blow this boring party and find a place where we can be alone?”
“Where are you going to take me?” she asked, toying with the top button of his shirt.
“I have a really fast car outside. We’ll put the top down and ride up to Malibu.”
“Malibu? What is that?”
“A beach in California.”
“Oh, we’re in California?” she teased. “I just assumed we’d be in Tahiti.”
“No, we’re in L.A.,” Trey said.
“Well, if we’re not going to be in Tahiti, then I’d rather be in Paris. We can take a ride along the Seine in your convertible.”
“You’re making this really difficult,” Trey said, frowning.
“Then maybe we should stay at this boring party a little longer,” Sophie suggested. “And get to know each other better.”
“So I’m going to have to charm you?”
Sophie nodded slowly, a smile curling her lips. “Yes. And maybe, if you’re lucky, I’ll let you take me home at the end of the evening.” She smoothed her hands over the front of his shirt. “So, Pete, what do you do for a living? I want to know everything about you.”
7
THE STORM RAGED OUTSIDE, the wind rattling at the old shutters and threatening to blow in the front door. It was raining so hard the sound from the tin roof had almost become background music. The darkness was broken only by the flashes of lightning and a wavering light from the old lantern Trey had found.
"Who Needs Mistletoe?" отзывы
Отзывы читателей о книге "Who Needs Mistletoe?". Читайте комментарии и мнения людей о произведении.
Понравилась книга? Поделитесь впечатлениями - оставьте Ваш отзыв и расскажите о книге "Who Needs Mistletoe?" друзьям в соцсетях.