Shipwrecked-Chapter 12

When Perry woke, it was to the most glorious feeling he had ever imagined. He looked at the unbelievably beautiful woman lying next to him. As on that first morning, her arm was across his chest, her leg entwined with his, her head resting on his shoulder. But unlike that first morning, this time she was naked, her skin like silk, almost glistening in the small shaft of sunlight peeking through the makeshift tent.

Her lashes were dark against her cheeks, her delicious lips curved in a half smile. Her chestnut hair was tousled, one curl falling over her forehead. And as if that weren't perfect enough, she was whiffling.

This is how I want to wake up every day for the rest of my life. Every dream he had ever had in relation to love had come true: Della loved him and was his. Staring down at her, his blue eyes were shining and radiant. His mouth curved up and his dimples appeared. I love you, Sweetheart. No matter what happens, whether we leave this place or spend the remainder of our lives here, I promise I will never stop loving, supporting, and protecting you. Everything I have is yours. Right down to my dying breath.

Della shifted, moaning softly in her sleep. Moving just enough for Perry to slide away from her side, she didn't even awaken. He flexed his shoulder. Not too stiff. It really was getting better each day. Reaching for his pants, he slipped into them, then reached for one of the blankets and covered her. With that done, he quietly left the serenity of the cave and ambled to the edge of the water.

The air was thick and heady, with a strong scent of salt and rain. Although the storm and its accompanying winds had blown over, a light rain was falling. The skies, so bright and clear only the day before, were still overcast, as though the threat of another squall was still a real possibility. Perry stretched and yawned, considered a quick swim, then ruled it out, and turned his mind to what needed to be done.

Della is going to think I am either obsessed or absent-minded, but I need to get back out to the boat. I didn't tell her yesterday, what with all the excitement over the tuna, but I saw something that needs closer inspection in her cabin. He frowned. Jack, you'd better pray you perished in that storm, Friend. Because if I ever have occasion to run across you again, I am going to beat your brains in.

He paced, his feet splashing in the ebbing and flowing water. The more he thought about the busted, hidden cargo hold in the closet of Della's cabin, the more his blood boiled. It was abundantly clear to him that Jack's Folly was primarily used to move drugs across international waters. That was appalling enough. But what had really outraged him was that Jack had heartlessly placed Della in danger. Any thoughts of his own safety were immaterial. He hated being a patsy, sure, but he would not stand for anyone putting her in harm's way.

The temptation to brood was fierce, but he forced himself to move on in his thoughts. I need to bring the drugs ashore. If last night's storm hasn't sunk the vessel entirely, there's a strong chance that the men with whom Jack worked will come looking for their treasure. There's a chance, albeit a small one, that Della and I can get off this island when they come. He thought through the idea, weighing the pros and cons. We could snag their launch, get back to their ship, and commandeer it. With a functional boat and working navigational tools, we can easily make the mainland. But . . . What are the chances these men won't be armed? They have all the advantages: weapons, numbers, and forewarning.

There was more to be worked out. Turning back toward their camp, Perry mapped out the things he needed to handle that did not involve the drug-running pirates. First and foremost, he and Della needed to find a fresh water source. They had multiple ways to transport water back to the camp, but even if they didn't, it would make more sense to move inland to the water source than to be sitting ducks on the shoreline. They needed baths. Well, he did. The sweat and grime from the last few days had not been washed away from his ocean swim. He had a substantial beard to shave, and now that he had made love with Della, the idea of scratching her was galling to him.

Not that she complained, he reminded himself, that slow, devilish smile creeping across his face. Suddenly the need to see her again overwhelmed him. He broke into a run, unmindful of the sand he was kicking up, of the surf that splashed his pant legs. Reaching their makeshift shelter, he threw back the sail and stopped abruptly. Della was not where he had left her.

Instead, she was standing, already fully dressed in a different set of clothes she had obviously salvaged from her first scavenger hunt. She was doing her best to pat down an unruly curl with only moderate success. At the sound of the sail being hauled back and Perry panting, she wheeled around to face him.

Her hazel eyes widened, then sparkled. He knew she was going to laugh before her lips curved up. Still, it was music to his ears.

"I missed you, Chief. I hope you brought breakfast back with you. I worked up quite an appetite last night."

He grinned as he came toward her. "Did you? What were you doing yesterday to cause that particular reaction?"

She tilted her head, considering him. "Well, I was setting up our first home, arranging a delicious picnic dinner, and . . ." She deliberately moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, "inspecting you for sunburn."

He shook his head. "Miss Street, I am both ashamed and impressed. I had no idea you had such poor stamina that these trivial things left you hungry, and I am impressed that you had no qualms admitting it!"

She balled up his navy shirt and threw it at his head. "Perry!"

"So it was the sunburn inspection that did you in, was it?"

She nodded. "Guilty."

"Are you hungry now?"

She swept him in a glance. "Starving."

All semblance of thought left his brain. Swiftly taking her in his arms, Perry smothered her lips under his. When breathing became necessary, he broke the kiss, but did not pretend to release her.

"Della, we don't have a lot of time."

She looked up into indigo eyes that were fathomless and without guile. "Prioritize, Counselor."

PDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPD

Later, after they had dressed...again... and he had shaved, they talked. Perry explained what he had seen the day before, outlining what he believed would happen within the next few hours or days. He pointed out the need for them to find the fresh water source, and the even more paramount need to cover their tracks. After all, there was no reason whatsoever for the pirates to believe they had survived, unless the evidence was there.

"But Perry," Della pointed out, "The moment they step foot on the ship they will be able to see that we've taken things off! Not only is the sail missing, but the toolbox, the bedding, and the contents of the galley!"

"That doesn't matter, Sweetheart. We know we can't hide the fact that we're marooned. But we can buy ourselves time."

She sighed, then nodded. "Alright. We get the drugs off the boat and find a way to— Do you want to destroy them, or hide them?"

"Hide. That shipment of drugs is the only bargaining chip we have."

"That and the gun."

He didn't comment on that. There was no need to argue the fact that one little .38 with extra bullets wasn't going to withstand a barrage of firepower from much bigger guns.

"Your thoughts are yelling, Perry. I know it isn't much, but it is something. I need a few minutes to figure out how to rig something to transport our essentials up those steep steps and beyond."

He stared at her in wonder. "You really were a troop leader, weren't you? Why wasn't that listed on your resumé?"

She blushed. "If I had thought it would get me the job, I would have. But in my experience, most employers don't consider that a boon to business in an office setting."

He dimpled. "I admit it isn't the first thing I normally look for in a prospective secretary." Then changing the subject, he said, "We need to take food, blankets and weapons. I'd like to take the radio and antenna."

"I wish I had my Steno pad to take notes. We can bundle everything in the sails and blankets, and use the rope to cinch them."

With that decided, they swung into action.