Island Redemption Read online

  Who could she trust out of all these people? Should she start making alliances yet? Alliances were a must in this game. You didn’t get far without someone else guarding your back. Should she wait for someone to approach her, or should she take the initiative? It was all a lot harder than it’d seemed watching from home. She was usually good at being decisive, but out here it was difficult to separate reality from the game. Her instinct was screaming not to go near Madison or Paloma, they’d be nothing but trouble. But they were also tough players, out here to win at all costs. They might be good people to align with. It was all so confusing.

  ‘I’m going to make an executive decision,’ Alisha’s voice broke through the arguments. ‘I for one don’t want to get wet tonight.’ She cast a meaningful glance at the clouds gathering off to the north. It often rained at night in the tropics and judging by the glowering clouds sulking closer and closer to them, tonight might be one of those nights.

  ‘Look, they’ve given us some timber and posts and other stuff,’ said Alisha, pointing at a pile of timber dropped haphazardly next to a cleared area. ‘We’re going to put the shelter up here, under this big tree.’ Alisha indicated the flat area that Cilla had already pinpointed in her head as a suitable spot.

  ‘I’m good at digging holes, do you want me to start for the posts?’ Simon spoke up at last.

  ‘Good, I’ll help you,’ said Tam, stepping towards the big man.

  They were of a similar height, Tam just pipping Simon out by an inch or so. They were both attractive, very easy on the eye and Cilla was looking forward to watching them throw themselves into the physical work ahead. Simon definitely had more impressive muscles, arms, legs, chest all buffed and bulging. While Tam was longer, leaner, less bulky. But the difference was more than just physical, it was in their demeanour. Simon’s gaze was constantly darting, checking to see who was watching him. Tam on the other hand, stood relaxed and easy, observing everyone, taking in the situation.

  ‘I’ll go and sort out the largest poles for the foundations and bring them over,’ Cilla said, heading towards the large pile of rough timber. A shelter was definitely a good start. It’d be nice to spend their first night warm and dry.

  ~

  Tiny shivers racked her body. She couldn’t stop them and couldn’t control them. Cilla was soaked to the bone and freezing cold. Even though she clamped her jaw shut, she still couldn’t stop her teeth from trying to rattle free from her head. She couldn’t remember being this cold before. Ever. Of course she’d been caught out in her fair share of wild storms while out sailing aboard her boat, but then she’d the luxury of wet weather gear and the promise of dry clothes and a hot drink down below in the cabin when the time came. Now there was no end in sight to this storm and dawn was a long, long way off.

  The team hadn’t been successful in their first attempt at building a shelter, and just as Alisha had predicted, tropical rain was now coming down in buckets. The rain started as the last vestiges of grey light fled, taking the day with it and plunging the island into pitch darkness. They had no flint, and therefore no fire. So they’d all agreed the only course of action left was to huddle in the half-built shelter and try and get some sleep. Somehow Cilla managed to draw the short straw and had been relegated to sleep right at the very end of the row of people now all crammed together like a bunch of bedraggled kittens on the too-small platform.

  Rain dripped incessantly onto her face, running in rivulets down her cheeks and forming a tiny waterfall off her chin. She was wearing every piece of clothing she’d been allowed to bring to the island, but it made no difference. She wished whole-heartedly she’d followed her instinct this afternoon and snuck off to scout out some of the caves that were sure to be bisecting the cliffs only a few hundred feet away. Instead, she’d stayed and tried to help create the pitiful lean-to they were now all trying to sleep under.

  Trying to move slowly, so as not to wake the person she was lying next to, Cilla inched in closer, flattening her body next to theirs to see if she could glean just a tiny bit more body heat. She had no idea who she was lying next to. It’d been too dark and they all had to feel their way to a spot. It was a man, she could tell by the hard planes of his body, but that was all.

  ‘Oh God, move over will you,’ a voice whispered out of the darkness.

  ‘Wh-what? Wh-what do you m-m-mean,’ she replied through chattering teeth.

  ‘I can’t stand you shivering all night next to me. Move in closer and I’ll swap spots with you.’

  ‘No, I-I’m f-fine, really.’

  ‘Don’t be a hero, move over.’ She felt him leave the space in front of her and then she could feel hands pushing on her back, forcing her into the space he’d just vacated. Who was it? She didn’t know them all well enough yet to be able to pick out individual voices. She tried to filter the few words he’d said, but her numb mind wouldn’t give her the answer she needed. Whoever it was had left a spot that was warm and almost dry, and she snuggled into the sleeping body on the other side, not caring who that was either.

  Great. After only one night, she already had no dignity left.

  The man lay down next to her, shuffled himself in tight up against her back and then draped a long arm over her shoulder, covering the top half of her body and tucking her in against his chest.

  Ever so slowly her shivers began to subside. She wasn’t warm by any stretch of the imagination, but she didn’t feel like she was about to freeze from the inside out anymore. The rain took the opportunity to taper off and now only came down in smatterings of small wet drops, instead of the deluge it’d been before.

  The body crushed against hers was definitely male, she could feel the outline of his quad muscles pushed into the back of her thighs. At least that ruled out Glen. She was sure his protruding stomach would’ve felt like being squashed up against a goose-down pillow. She was pressed so hard up against the stranger’s chest that she could feel the solid thud of his heartbeat through her shoulder blades. Strong and warm. His breath came as hot pulses of air in her ear as he breathed slowly in and out. With his breath brushing over her, so intimate, so close, a curl of tension writhed through her abdomen. A pleasant feeling spread down her legs, right to ends of her toes. Suddenly it hit her. It wasn’t just his warmth she was responding to. It was something else altogether.

  She tensed, no longer comfortable with her position. What had she been thinking, allowing this kind of intimacy? Should she move back to the end of the line, back to her freezing huddle on the outskirts of the group?

  No, she refused to do that.

  She’d just need to calm herself down and appreciate what she had. Enjoy the heat and try and overlook the other feelings.

  Who was it? Simon? Cho? Or Tam? They were the only three candidates. What did it really matter? She was warmer, drier and almost drowsy now. She’d face the reality of whoever was causing her body’s cravings in the cold hard light of day. Not tonight.

  It’d been a long time since she’d felt sheltered by someone. By her own choice, she reminded herself. Her last relationship had ended badly and she’d consciously steered away from men ever since. Had it really been over a year since she’d been held by a man? She counted back to the date of her breakup with Marco. Yep. One year and two months. Maybe that was why her body was having this strange reaction to the man behind her. She hadn’t been this close to anyone in a long time, that was all. Her body was just responding to the virulent male shoved up against her.

  Thoughts of her ex, Marco brought back memories of her boat. He’d lived with her for a while on her boat, Halcyon, before she’d kicked him off. How she loved sleeping on board, listening to the quiet slap of the waves against the outside of the hull, lulling her to sleep. If she didn’t win this money, she’d lose Halcyon. Her mind flashed back to the day, eight weeks ago, when two debt collectors had shown up on her jetty in the Whitsunday’s.

  The day her life had been turned upside down.

  ‘Are you Pricilla
Parsons?’ She’d been careful to lay the paintbrush on the top of the varnish tin before she got up from where she was kneeling on the deck. Turning around, she was surprised to see two men, both dressed in grey suits and ties, standing on the jetty next to her boat. One had bands of grey in his immaculate hair, matching the colour of his suit. The other one was much younger and quite good looking.

  ‘Yes.’ She didn’t see any harm in owning up to who she was. ‘Who are you?’ Something about the smirk that crept onto the younger man’s face stopped her from stepping forward to greet them. Instead she leant casually against the mast.

  ‘My name is Andrew Barnes,’ replied the older man, gesturing towards his companion. ‘And this is Ben Somers.’ The smirk on Ben’s face turned decidedly predatory as the younger man watched her. ‘We’re employed by the Dominion Bank of West Wyoming.’

  ‘Mmm hmm.’ Cilla didn’t speak. But the cogs were whirling in her head. Had something happened to her money? She had to make a conscious effort to stop her hands from twisting together with worry.

  ‘May I come aboard your boat?’ Andrew put one foot on the gunwale and took a firm hold of the rigging before Cilla even had time to react.

  ‘I guess so.’ She couldn’t come up with a valid reason why not, but was strangely hesitant to let him on board. In the next instant he stepped over the safety rail and was standing next to her on the foredeck, much too close for comfort. She wanted to take a step backwards, but managed to quell the urge. Andrew reached inside his grey jacket, pulled out a white envelope and handed it to her.

  Instinct made her reach out and take the envelope from him.

  ‘Pricilla Parsons, you’ve just been served with a default notice.’

  ‘What?’ She turned the letter over in her hands, unable to make any sense of what the man had just said. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You’ll have to talk to your bank about that, Miss Parsons.’ Andrew turned and started to make his way off her boat, giving Ben a signal to get moving.

  ‘I don’t understand. What’s this all about?’ she called after them. ‘Has the bank gone broke or something?’ She tried to stop the desperation from entering her voice, but failed.

  ‘No, Miss Parsons, the bank has not gone broke. If you fail to pay on your default notice in thirty days, The Dominion Bank will commence legal proceedings against you, and both your house and your boat will be repossessed.’ Andrew had now regained the wooden jetty and with a satisfied smile he and his companion turned on their heels and strode back towards the clubhouse and dry land.

  Lost for words she watched them go.

  Hanging up her cell phone half an hour later, she had to go and sit down at a nearby picnic table. She was shaking all over, and tears felt imminent. The manager at the bank had just told her that unless she could come up with nearly three hundred thousand dollars, they were going to take her to court and repossess all her assets. At first she’d thought it was all a huge joke, until the deadpan voice of the man on the other end of the phone had assured her he was extremely serious. Not only were they going to take her boat, but they were also going to foreclose on her grandmother’s house in Wyoming. Evict her and sell it out from underneath her. Because the house was in Cilla’s name. The bank manager wouldn’t answer any of her questions as to how or why this had happened, just told her in a polite voice to get a good lawyer and let them sort it out.

  Taking his advice she got a lawyer the very next day. It took a few more days to get to the bottom of why she owed so much money. It seemed her father had been able to set up another loan in her name, using the boat and house as collateral and over the past two years had managed to rack up hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt, with no plans for repayment. He’d committed identity fraud. He was the one owing all the money, but her lawyer told her it would be mighty hard to prove. It could take months or even years to clear her name, and in the meantime all her possessions and bank accounts were frozen.

  Cilla was at a loss as to how easy it’d been for her father to do this to them. Her grandmother had signed the deed to the house over to Cilla so that it’d be in safe hands. The house was going to be hers anyway when her grandmother passed away. And now it was no longer safe, and no longer in her hands. She’d told her near-hysterical grandmother that everything would be all right over the phone, that she would think of something and put it all to rights.

  That’s when the chance to become a contestant on Sea-Quest had come up and she’d grasped at the idea like a drowning woman seizing a life raft. The prize money represented a light at the end of a very dark tunnel for Cilla. She had to win. It was the only way she could see out of this financial hole her deadbeat father had landed her in.

  And now here she was, not even able to get through the first night without having to rely on the human decency of the man behind her, whoever he was. A man who caused her body to react in ways she’d not thought possible while she was cold and wet and crammed in next to eight other sleeping people. Closing her eyes she tried to ignore her bodies persistent nagging and find sleep.

  ~

  Weak sunlight filtered through the thatch of the partly made roof, playing across Tam’s eyelids until he was forced to open them. The wooden platform beneath him was hard and unforgiving and all his muscles stiffened up in protest at his first night roughing it. But at least he was warm and dry now. Unlike last night. That was the first time he’d ever had to endure nature in all her unleashed glory. The island had certainly thrown them a hard lesson in survival for their first night out. He’d been bitterly cold and wetter than a soggy sheet on wash day. Hopefully there wouldn’t be too many more nights like that one.

  Something moved beneath his arm, startling him until he remembered where he was; what he’d done last night. The woman curled in front of him was stirring, a slim arm thrown above her head in a stretch. It was Cilla, and she felt disturbingly good tucked against his chest, small and warm, and a streak of protectiveness ran through him. Don’t be an idiot. He shouldn’t want to be protecting anyone. All these people were his competition, his opposition. He’d be voting one of them out – possibly Cilla – sooner or later, and he’d do well to remember that.

  ‘Morning, Cilla,’ he whispered into her ear, sleep making his voice husky. He felt her start of surprise, then she turned slowly towards him, craning her neck to get a glimpse of who it was behind her.

  ‘Tam?’ He heard her stifle a small groan. Was that regret in her tone? Was it possible she hadn’t been sure who he was when he’d played the hero last night? There was definitely an element of surprise in her eyes when she saw who he was.

  ‘Morning,’ she replied with a yawn. ‘Thanks for … you know, last night.’ This time there was a little more of the sincere gratitude in her voice. Oh well, even if she hadn’t known who her saviour had been last night, she at least had the decency to thank him this morning.

  ‘Not a problem.’ And it wasn’t. He was truly okay with giving up his spot for her. And therein lay the problem. He’d done the very thing he’d vowed not to do just as recently as yesterday afternoon, when he’d let her have the machete. God, was he always destined to be the honourable fool? Around this woman it seemed the answer might be a resounding yes. Cilla snuggled her head back down on the bamboo, and closed her eyes.

  Grunting with ill-concealed annoyance at his own lack of fortitude, he rolled over and got up, any idea that he might be able to catch a few more minutes sleep now gone. No one else was up yet, but there was no way he could continue to lie here pretending to sleep.

  Leaving Cilla and the rest of them lying together in the shelter, looking for all the world like sardines stacked in a tin, he padded on bare feet out onto the sand. The beach looked washed clean from the downpour last night. Their footprints had almost faded from existence, now merely muted shadows of themselves. It was cool under the shade, so he walked forwards into the sun and dabbled his feet in the shallow water at the edge of the beach. It looked like it was going to
be a glorious day; hot but with a sea breeze already on its way.

  First things first. Nature called. He made his way into the jungle towards the makeshift toilet the team had constructed. Passing close by the pallet, he could see some of the others finally starting to stir.

  ‘Hey, wait up.’ Tam turned in time to see the muscular woman with short-cropped hair wave at him from the edge of the shelter. He waited for the athletic woman to join him and they headed down a fresh trail Simon had cut through the undergrowth yesterday.

  ‘Thanks for waiting. I’m busting to go.’ The woman hustled off down the trail in front of Tam. ‘I’m Margaux, by the way, but you can just call me Marg. You’re Thomas, right?’

  ‘Yes, that’s right, but I prefer Tam.’

  ‘Righto, Tam it is. I’m pretty good with names and faces, I’m sure I’ve got everyone in our team down already, eh? What about you, are you good with names?’

  ‘Um, I guess so,’ Tam replied, a little bewildered by the barrage of conversation this early in the morning.

  ‘I’m from Toronto, French-Canadian, you can probably tell by the accent, eh? What about you?’

  ‘I was born and raised in LA.’

  ‘LA, huh? I’ve never been there mind you, but I’d love to go sometime. It must’ve been awesome living there, nice and warm I bet. Not like the ice and snow of Toronto. At least you’ll be used to all these beaches and oceans and stuff. We’ve got nothing like this in Canada.’

  Well he wouldn’t have put it quite like that, but there wasn’t a chance for him to reply. The woman could surely talk, and continued to dominate the discussion all the way down the path. Despite her penchant for hogging the conversation, Tam liked Marg. She had a ready smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes and an open, easy manner. Her figure hugging t-shirt and tiny little shorts showing off her well-defined figure. This lady had muscles bigger than a lot of men Tam knew. As long as she lived up to her appearance, she’d be a great help for the team in all of the physical knockouts.