Stranded With The Navy Seal. Susan Cliff

Stranded With The Navy Seal - Susan Cliff


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don’t know if you lied?”

      “I don’t know if there’s a search effort underway,” he said in a clipped tone. “They send rescue teams to reported accidents, like plane crashes or shipwrecks. Kidnappings at sea, without a specific location...”

      Her spirits plummeted. There was no rescue team. What would they look for, other than the pirates? A man or woman overboard had no chance of surviving in the open ocean. Cady and Logan would be presumed dead.

      “Let’s focus on the positive,” he said.

      She threw back her head and laughed.

      “We’re alive.”

      She stopped laughing, because she sounded deranged, and he had a point.

      “Being on dry land is a vast improvement over the raft. Two or three more days at sea would’ve killed us.”

      She let out a ragged breath, fighting tears again.

      “As deserted islands go, this one is ideal.”

      “How?”

      “Most uninhabited islands are spits of sand with a few palm trees and no fresh water. They’re uninhabited for a reason. There’s no way to live off them. This place is different. It has everything we need to survive.”

      She studied the green landscape with wet eyes.

      He crouched down next to her and pointed at the shoreline. “Look there. Tide pools are easy to forage, and full of seafood. Are you allergic to shellfish?”

      “No.”

      “Do you like it?”

      She nodded, because she did. She loved it, in fact. Shrimp, crab, fish, sushi...she even liked sea urchin.

      “And over here, check it out,” he said, moving his finger. “That white line in the rock face is a waterfall.”

      “It’s far away.”

      “It’s close to the beach, which is where I’d build a shelter. I can make an SOS signal right there on the sand that would be visible from the air. There are coconut trees and palm trees. Maybe some more of that breadfruit.”

      “I’ve seen taro plants.”

      “Yeah? They have roots you can eat.”

      “I know.”

      He directed his finger at her. “There’s something special here, too.”

      “What?” she asked warily.

      “You. You’re a great resource. You’re a chef. You’ve studied the local plants. You can cook the hell out of a fish. You’re also in excellent shape. You’re a strong swimmer. I couldn’t ask for a better partner.”

      “Now you’re going overboard.”

      “I mean it.”

      “You wouldn’t rather have another SEAL with you?”

      He held her gaze. “There’s no one I’d rather have with me.”

      She didn’t know how to feel about this proclamation. The intensity that had excited her at the bar—and terrified her in the aftermath of the kidnapping—was still there, glittering in his eyes. But his brutal actions were no longer at the forefront of her mind. He’d been kind to her. He’d shared his clothing and his body heat on the raft. He was a good man. Although he hadn’t been completely honest with her about their predicament, and she didn’t trust him not to bend the truth again, she felt safe with him. She also knew he wanted her. She tried not to be flattered by his desire, and failed.

      He was incredibly charismatic. That was why all of the women on the cruise had been agog over him. It wasn’t just his face, though he had handsome features. It wasn’t just his body, though that was a perfect ten. He radiated strength and confidence. When he focused his attention on her, she turned into mush.

      “I’m no survival expert,” she said, glancing away.

      “Have you ever been camping?”

      “In an RV, with my grandpa.”

      “The drill sergeant?”

      “Yes.”

      “This won’t be like that.”

      She laughed again, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “No kidding.”

      “How are your feet?”

      “Terrible.”

      “I’ll rewrap them before we go.”

      “Must we?”

      “It’s all downhill from here.”

      “Ha.”

      She spotted an aloe vera plant, so she sent him to pick some for her. While she took care of the cuts on her feet, he applied the slick moisture to his chapped lips and sunburned cheeks. Heavy beard stubble shadowed his jaw. He looked a little rough around the edges, but ruggedly handsome. This environment suited him. It didn’t suit her. She felt sweaty and dirty. Her hair was all over the place. There were oily stains on her dress from the coconut milk. Rugged wasn’t a word used to describe women, so she tried to think of a similar term. Natural, maybe. She was at peak natural right now.

      When she was finished with the aloe vera, he rewrapped her feet with new leaves. “We’ll see if we can make it to that beach before nightfall. Then I’ll start a fire. We’ll have a cookout, and sleep under the stars.”

      She arched a brow at his fanciful phrasing.

      “Too much?”

      “Let’s bring it down a notch. You’re supposed to be managing my expectations, remember?”

      “Right. Okay, here goes. Let’s try to get as far from the summit as possible before the afternoon rain hits and makes the terrain even more treacherous.”

      Well, that wasn’t as upbeat, but she’d asked for it. She noted a few dark clouds on the edge of the horizon and figured this was the likelier scenario. With a low groan, she rose to a standing position. After a quick stretch, she followed him down the hillside. Her arms and legs ached from overuse. She felt like a wrung-out dishrag. Logan, on the other hand, appeared hale and hearty as hell. Damn his rugged ass. She stared at his broad shoulders, remembering how his muscles had bunched beneath her fingertips, and how easily he’d lifted her.

      It started raining.

      He kept going.

      She tried to be strong and brave and a team player, but it was just beyond her. She was soaked from head to toe. Her energy was sapped. Hiking uphill while wearing leaves for shoes was difficult. Downhill, on wet ground...it was impossible. She slipped and fell hard, right on her butt. Although she had plenty of padding there, it didn’t feel sufficient. She felt like she’d gotten spanked by the island, big-time.

      She didn’t get up. She rolled onto her side and cried.

      He knelt next to her. His hand rested on her waist. Instead of asking questions, he waited for her to compose herself.

      “I’m okay,” she said finally. “I just fell.”

      “Where does it hurt?”

      She gestured to the general vicinity. The back of her dress had ridden up, exposing her sore, muddy bottom. He swept his palm over her abused flesh, squeezing gently. Then he gave her a soft pat of sympathy.

      “I don’t think anything’s broken,” he said.

      “Are you a medic, too?”

      “No.”

      She tugged her dress into place, suspecting he’d enjoyed that exam a little too much. He winced as he staggered upright, as if his knee was bothering him. The injury reminded her that he was a human being with real weaknesses. He wasn’t impervious to


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