Heart's Paradise by Olivia Starke Page B

shift on the fronds. She looked over to find him lying on his side, propped on his elbow, staring down to her.
    “Come on, you don’t go to bed this early, do you?” he asked.
    Actually, she did many nights. She’d always been a morning person. Pre-dawn was her favorite time of day. The world was brand new, the forest awakening, and everything was perfect.
    “I’m an early riser,” she said, wiggling farther away from him until the wall dug into her side. “Though I have a feeling I won’t get much sleep tonight,” she mumbled.
    “Why’s that, angel?” he purred.
    She realized her mistake. “What I mean,” she corrected, “is the night is cooling off. We’ll most likely be shivering in a couple of hours.” Even at eighty degrees, being almost naked and on the damp sand would suck out their body heat.
    “Not if we huddle together for warmth.”
    Phoebe didn’t at all like how squirmy she suddenly felt. His scent filled her head—the last traces of sunblock mixed with the heady aroma of clean sweat. How unfair, he could at least have the decency to stink after working all day in the sun.
    The shelter became a cage. She stared out its opening, fighting claustrophobia. “I doubt if huddling will be necessary.”
    “I can think of all kinds of other ways to keep warm.” His voice dropped an octave. “Would you like to hear my ideas?”
    Her mind played with what those ideas might be. In vivid detail she recalled what his tongue could do. The way he’d used it to tease, tickle, and lick her to orgasm.
    “No,” was all she managed to say, squeezing her thighs together. “Goodnight, Jonathon.”
    He chuckled then fell silent, and she said a little prayer of gratitude. Phoebe shut her eyes, hoping sleep would come fast. She heard him settle onto his back.
    “Are you married? I didn’t see a ring or a tan line from one on your finger, but I should’ve asked before now.”
    She blinked at his question in the darkness. If she lied and said yes, would he still try to seduce her? She half-feared the answer. “No, are you?” she replied.
    “You know, I’m not sure anymore.” He yawned. “The tabloids have so much to say on my love life, maybe I am.”
    She frowned, and turned her back to him. Before long she heard his deep breaths of sleep, and she relaxed for the first time since meeting him on the island. The constant tempo of the ocean waves lulled her until at last she drifted off to sleep.
    It seemed only minutes later when she awoke to the sound of raindrops pelting their shelter. A light tat tat tat which picked up pace. The scent of rain filled the hut. Monsoon season was over, but as Phoebe sat up, the clouds opened up, dumping rain down in sheets. The fire vanished, and the odor of soot mixed with wet sand and the ocean.
    “Damn.” Jonathon sat up. Rain spilled between the weaving of palm fronds, wetting them both.
    Phoebe pulled her knees to her chest, soaked and shivering. “Somehow I knew this would happen,” she grumbled.
    “I wish you’d have warned me. I thought the weather stayed pleasant in the Maldives. We’re past the rainy season.” Lightning flashed, filling the interior. Jonathon hugged his arms around himself.
    The worst she’d expected had been a few warm showers, not a stormy downpour. Her hair stuck to her forehead, and water streamed into her eyes and off the tip of her nose. Another flash of lightning showed a huddled Jonathon looking as miserable as she felt. The wetter she got, the deeper the chill seeped until it settled in her bones. Wind gusted into the hut, spraying mist in her face.
    A lightning bolt exploded above them. Phoebe screamed. Arms closed around her as thunder shattered the night and her eardrums. Jonathon hugged her tight as another bolt crashed somewhere nearby. She grabbed hold of him, clutching and cringing with every flash of light and clap of thunder.
    “Shh, it’s okay,” Jonathon said against her ear, rocking her back and forth. She felt