She wandered over to a low counter against the far wall and picked through a meager assortment of canned food. She’d heard of the tradition, how sailors would trade something from their stocks, for something left behind on many of the deserted islands in the Pacific. She searched through the tins, examining a can of smoked oysters and another of beef stew. At least they’d have something for dinner if they didn’t catch any fish.

The steel water tanks were set behind the cottage in a small meadow, about fifty yards from the back door. When Sophie reached the nearest tank, she searched for an outlet. She expected the faucet to be corroded and impossible to open, but to her surprise, it turned easily. Obviously, passing sailors had taken advantage of the water supply, as well.

When she’d filled the water jug, Sophie circled around the tank to find a makeshift shower hooked up to a second faucet. But then, something else caught her eye-a small grove of trees, distinctly different from the coconut palms that grew on the island. Someone had thought to plant fruit trees thirty years ago!

She found mangoes, bananas and papayas hanging from the trees and scattered on the ground below, along with broken branches, blown off in storms. Sophie wondered how the fruit could grow in such poor soil, but as she approached, the answer was evident. The original resort owners had hauled in soil so that the trees might flourish. Squatting down, she gathered some of the fallen mangoes, using her pareu as an apron.

They had everything they needed to survive on this island for more than just a few days. With fish and fruit, firewood and shelter, not to mention drinkable water, they could survive on Suaneva quite easily for as long as they had to.

How long would be enough? Sophie wondered. Would a week with Trey dull this irresistible attraction? What about a month? Somehow, Sophie sensed it was better that they’d only have wait twenty-four hours to be rescued. Any longer and desire might turn into something much more serious.

3

TREY RUBBED HIS PALM, the skin nearly raw. As Sophie had suggested, he’d gathered wood from the beach on the other side of the atoll and had stacked it over a pile of dried palm fronds and old coconut husks. But building a fire was a lot easier than starting one.

He’d learned three methods during his time with Outward Bound. Without a flint, he was left with only two options. But then, a decent stick was also hard to come by on an island with nothing but palm trees, so he’d been forced to eliminate the bow-and-drill method. Left with the fire-plow method, he’d been optimistic about his chances to succeed. But for some reason, the castaway guy in the movie had a much easier time of it.

“That’s Hollywood for you,” he muttered. There was probably some expert there to make sure conditions were perfect. Maybe they even used matches.

Trey sat back on his heels. He should just admit defeat and use the matches. If he got the fire lit before Sophie returned, she’d never know that he cheated. Besides, it was ridiculous to pin his manhood on his ability to start a fire. They were living in the modern world, so why not use the conveniences available.

He looked around the camp, now very quiet without Sophie’s presence. A man alone would go crazy living on this island, he mused. Hell, a man living with Sophie would probably reach the edges of sanity on occasion, as well.

Just one look at her was all it took for the fantasies to start spinning in his head. Her body was enough to tempt the most devout monk to break a vow of celibacy. And then there were her very open-minded views on sex. She seemed quite at ease discussing her desires-and his, as well.

Naughty talk had always been a turn-on for him, but this was different. Sophie wasn’t doing it to play games. She was simply being honest about her passions-and her curiosity. He’d never met a woman quite like her and Trey had to wonder how deep her curiosity ran. What limits would she be interested in testing now that they were alone on the island?

Trey knew it wouldn’t take much to convince her to make love with him again, to let him strip off her clothes and possess her body. From what he could tell, she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

But in just a matter of hours, he’d become obsessed by thoughts of her…of her body…of the way she made him feel when she touched him. She’d changed the way he felt about sex. With other women, it had been all about release, a need to momentarily lose himself in a warm and willing body. But there was something else pulling him toward Sophie, something much more powerful that just physical desire.

“I have lunch!”

Trey looked over his shoulder to see Sophie approaching, the water jug in one hand and her pareu gathered in the other. Though she’d only been gone an hour, he realized he hadn’t stopped thinking about her since she’d left.

He slowly stood and brushed the sand off his knees. “What did you find? The local mini-mart?”

Sophie frowned. “Mini-mart? What is that?”

“Convenience store? Gas-and-go?”

“Oh,” she said with a smile, finally understanding. “No. No mini-mart. But I did find some fruit trees.” She stepped beneath the tarp onto the blanket and dumped the load of fruit onto the ground. “Mango,” she said. “Papaya. There were bananas, too, but I would have needed the knife to cut them down. We can go back later.”

“Wow,” Trey said, joining her beneath the shade of the tarp. “This is great. I can see you would have done well in Outward Bound.”

“I would have definitely seduced you before the red-haired girl did,” she teased.

His gaze fixed on her lush lips. “I meant with the foraging.”

“There wasn’t any foraging involved,” Sophie replied. “Whoever decided to build the resort thirty years ago planted some fruit trees.” She knelt down on the blanket and picked through the toolbox for the pocketknife. When she found it, Sophie used it to slice open a mango. “There’s plenty of firewood over there, too. We might want to think about moving camp.”

Trey shrugged. At least he wouldn’t have to admit his failure in making a fire. It was probably just the wood on this side of the island. Wood from the other side would no doubt be easier to start. Right.

He sat down in front of Sophie and watched her score the juicy orange flesh and flip the skin inside out. She handed it to Trey and he bit into the fruit, the juice running down his chin. “Oh, God, this is good,” he said. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was. I don’t remember mangoes tasting like this.”

Sophie prepared a piece for herself and took a huge bite. “All natural, right off the tree.” She took a bite and then licked the juice off her lips and fingers.

Trey found himself captivated by her mouth. He fought the urge to lean over and taste the mango on her lips. “Look at us,” he murmured. “We’ve got shelter, food to eat. If I can get a fire going, we’ll be warm.” Trey dragged his gaze from her face and stared over her shoulder at the lagoon. “How long do you think we could survive here?”

Sophie licked her fingers, then shrugged. “For a pretty long time,” she said. “There’s enough to eat, decent shelter. Sooner or later a sailboat would come by and we’d be rescued.”

“I wouldn’t call this tarp a decent shelter,” Trey said.

“Actually, there’s a cottage on the other side of the lagoon-it looked like it might have been an office at one time-and a few fares that were probably built for the workers they were going to need. If the weather turns bad we can go over there.”

“You don’t like the house I built for us?” he asked.

She handed him another piece of fruit. “It’s a lovely house. But the one on the other side of the lagoon has walls and a real roof.”

Trey shrugged. “Sometimes, I wonder if I’d have been better off living a simple life like this,” he said. “I think I might have been happier if my life hadn’t involved so many temptations. Here, I’d eat, sleep, look for food. Give me an endless supply of books to read and music to listen to, and I could be happy.”

“You wouldn’t miss all the things the world has to offer?”

“You would?” he asked.

“I wish I had more temptations.” Sophie laughed softly. “I’d give anything to be able to go out and see the world. To breathe in all the excitement of a big city. To go to a shopping mall. Or to see a movie whenever I wanted. To go to a club and dance the night away. I wish I had those choices.”

“There are nightclubs in Pape‘ete, aren’t there?”

Sophie shook her head. “Of course. But they’re in Pape‘ete, not London or Paris or Rome. Besides, if I left, there would be no one to take care of my father. He needs me.”

“He’s an adult. Can’t he take care of himself?”

She forced a smile, then picked up another mango and cut it open. “These are good, aren’t they?” She handed him a piece, leaving Trey with the distinct impression that she didn’t want to discuss the subject any further.

He reached out and grabbed her hand, examining her fingers distractedly. “You can talk to me, Sophie. I’m the last person to judge anyone when it comes to family loyalty and duty.”

“Is that why you’re not with your family on Christmas?” she asked.

“That’s a long story.” Trey paused and gathered his thoughts. He wanted Sophie to admire him, to see him as a good person. But some of the things he’d done in his life had been awfully silly and self-centered.

“Until recently, my father disapproved of my lifestyle,” he admitted. “And my spending habits. I had a trust fund I got when I turned eighteen and I used it to move as far away from my family as possible. Going home always meant listening to my dad’s lectures on personal responsibility. After a while, I’d been gone so long, nobody even expected me to show up on the holidays.”