The Wedding Adventure

The boat stopped twenty-five feet from shore. Crew members unloaded two wooden crates and carried them to shore. As soon as they reached the beach, music played. Drums, chanting, an eerie flutelike instrument.

Cynthia looked around for the mysterious source. She noticed a boom box sitting near Henry’s feet and immediately felt better. For a minute she thought they were arriving at Fantasy Island. At least that would explain why Henry wore an all white suit like Mr. Roarke.

Henry rose. “Your adventure begins now. For the next two weeks, you will live on this island. There’s a radio for emergencies, but otherwise you are on your own. Basic provisions have been provided. The rest you will need to find, make or win. I’ll stop by on a regular basis to check up on you and play a few games.”

“What kind of games?” Cynthia asked.

“Games to challenge your ability to survive on the island,” Henry explained. “And you win prizes by playing.”

Cynthia clapped. “I love prizes.”

“That’s the spirit.” He grinned. “Ready to go ashore?”

Cade removed his shoes, slung his backpack over his shoulder and hopped out of the boat. As he waded to shore, he passed the crewmen on their way back.

“Go on,” Henry urged.

“I’ll get wet.” The beach wasn’t far, but her stomach knotted and she thought she might be sick at the idea of getting in the water. “I don’t want to get wet.”

“The water’s nice and warm,” Cade yelled.

“No.” Fear paralyzed her. She’d been caught in a riptide when she was eight. Since then she hadn’t been in the water except for sitting in a bathtub or a Jacuzzi. No one noticed she never swam. “The saltwater will ruin my clothes.”

“Come on, Sterling.”

Ever since their successful raids on the galley, Cade had called her Sterling. Cynthia worried he might have forgotten her first name. At this point her name didn’t matter, but she would ask Henry a million questions if it kept her out of the water. “Why does Cade keep calling me by my last name?”

“Men often call each other by their last names.”

She put her hands on her hips. “Do I look like a man?”

Henry gave her the once-over. “Not in the slightest.”

“Thank you.”

“Get in the water, Cynthia,” Henry said.

So much for stalling. Think, think… “Have him carry me to shore,” she whispered.

“Brilliant idea. One I should have thought of.” Henry beamed. “Cade, carry her to shore.”

“What?” he asked.

“Carry Cynthia to shore,” Henry suggested. “That’s what a gentleman would do.”

Cade mumbled something about not being a gentleman, but Cynthia couldn’t hear his exact words. Still he dropped his backpack on the beach and waded back to the boat.

“Thanks,” she mouthed to Henry.

“I’ve done my part. The rest is up to you.”

By the time Cade reached the boat, he’d drawn his lips into a thin line. “The water isn’t deep.”

Cynthia had learned deep was a relative term. She forced a smile and batted her eyelashes. “Please?”

A beat passed. He nodded once.

“Thanks.” This time her smile was genuine. Not only had she maneuvered her way out of getting in the water, she was going to end up in Cade’s arms. It would be like the scene in Gone with the Wind when Rhett carried Scarlett up the stairs. Yes, a brilliant idea. Her first of many during the next fourteen days.

As Cade grabbed her backpack, she rose. Anticipation filled her. His hands clasped around her waist. A bevy of butterflies attacked her stomach. She waited for him to lift her into his arms. He slung her over his left shoulder like a Prada bag instead.

Staring at the water, she pushed herself up his back. “What—”

“You’re not as light as you look.” His hand clamped on the back of her thigh. “Stop wiggling or I’m going to drop you.”

She didn’t move a muscle; she didn’t blink. She couldn’t. The heat from his hands radiated through the fabric of her capris. Hot. Burning. Okay, so this wasn’t the romantic scene she’d envisioned, but talk about a turn-on.

This was not a good thing. In fact, it was a very bad thing. She wanted to feel comfortable with Cade, chummy and cuddly like she had with Travis. Not all hot and bothered wondering if Cade would move his hand up a couple more inches. The goal was for him to get lost in her, not the other way around. She wasn’t going to repeat her parents’ mistake.

He dropped her unceremoniously on the sand. “Next time, you’re getting wet.”

No next time. No water. No touching.

Cade handed her the backpack. “Thanks,” she said.

No “you’re welcome” or “not a problem.” Simply nothing. She didn’t understand. Most men wanted her gratitude.

The horn from the boat sliced through the silence. Henry waved. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Have fun tonight.”

Cynthia blew him a kiss and waved. She turned and faced a tense-looking Cade. Maybe he was jealous of Henry. She didn’t want to start out on the wrong foot. Not when she wanted Cade to like her. “Want a kiss, too?”

“Only if it’s chocolate.”

Now he was talking. She moistened her lips. “Those are my second favorite kind.”

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