Page 13 of Uncharted Desires
The sun was unrelenting as it blazed in the sky, and West’s shirt felt like a wet rag. His feet dragged through the sand, and he finally collapsed to his knees with a gasp of relief as they stumbled onto the shoreline.
Slowly, he raised his head, squinting against the glare from the sea, and surveyed their surroundings. The beach curved gently around them like an embrace, fringed by rocks on both sides. He looked down at his feet; they were already beginning to sting from the heat of the sand, and he cursed himself for not wearing shoes.
Clusters of shrubs and little trees lined the shore before giving way to tall trees that reached up toward the sky like hands outstretched from a deep green pool. A vast mountain rose in the center of the island, dominating the horizon with its sheer size. Surely someone had to live on an island this big, but there was no sign of life on the beach.
He took his shirt off in hopes it would dry quicker, turning to see Kat behind him struggling to stand, her legs shaky from floating and kicking in the water for so long. She pulled the hoodie she had been wearing over her head, and West glimpsed the swell of her stomach and secretly hoped the shirt underneath would be pulled up farther.
A feeling he didn’t want to acknowledge shot through him as he stared at her midriff. She wasn’t plain or simple like he had tried to delude himself into believing, she was stronger than he had given her credit for. There was no other woman he could think of who wouldn’t be collapsing in fear at their current situation.
Kat plopped down unceremoniously next to him, sighing loudly, her eyes shut tight.
“I think I’ll just never open my eyes again,” she said, bundling her hoodie and shoving it under her head like a pillow.
He peered down the length of her body, his gaze lingering as her wet linen pants clung to every curve. Since the incident he had tried so hard to put her out of his mind, to not see her as a woman, but just as his bandmate. He was an idiot.
Every shade of bronze mingled within her skin. Her hair drenched, and yet still shining in the sun, was the color of melted chocolate, each strand like spun silk. She had an average-sized waist that eased into lush hips.
West’s gaze raked up her form. As she lay on the sand, her drenched shirt stuck to the curves of her breasts, revealing the outline of her bra beneath. He could easily imagine his large hands reaching out to cup them. With closed eyes, her facial features had softened, exposing a vulnerable side to her typically harsh expression. Her aquiline nose gave her an aura of sophistication. Her full pink lips glistened under the sunlight, and he wondered what they tasted like, and then instantly admonished himself for such a thought. They had tried that already once, a long time ago, but Kat wasn’t his type. She was too good for him and now was definitely not the time.
She popped one eye open and stared at him. “What are you looking at, Weston?”
“Why do you call me Weston?” he asked, deflecting the question. “My friends all call me West; Weston is just my stage name.”
She sat up, dusting the sand from her hands. Not that it did anything for the coating of sand along her back. “We’re not exactly friends, are we?”
West reached up to swipe the sand out of her hair, smiling as she tried to bat his hands away. “We’ve worked together for ten years,” he pointed out.
“That doesn’t make us friends,” she whispered.
Her hair felt like silk in his hand, even after hours in the salty ocean. Even once the sand was all gone, he continued to stroke it as he looked into her eyes, tucking a stray piece behind her ear. He remembered now why he had been intrigued by her so many years ago as he felt an unearthly pull emanating between them. She wasn’t the type of woman he usually desired, yet something about her made him want to count the myriad shades of brown he saw reflected in her eyes; she was hypnotically alluring.
A bird made a squawking noise in the sky, and he dropped her hair as if it were on fire before he did something they’d both regret.
“West?”
It took him a moment to register she was talking to him, and that she’d used the name he preferred his friends to use.
“Yeah?”
“How the hell did this happen?”
He shook his head and rested it in his palms, the sand scratching at his skin. “I honestly don’t know.”
Kat made a sound as if she didn’t believe him. What did she think? That he’d thrown himself overboard? Things were bleak, but not that bleak.
He stood up, his angry energy making him anxious. “I mean it. One moment I was walking on the deck, and the next I was tripping and falling, and my reflexes were too slow to catch myself until it was too late. But I keep feeling like something happened, like something touched me. I swear I saw a shadow on the deck.”
Kat stood up to keep pace with him as he walked away. “You think someone was on the deck with you? Like what? They pushed you?”
He shrugged. “Yes. No. Maybe. I don’t remember! It’s all such a haze.”
She slowed her pace, and he stopped, turning to wait for her. She took in a deep breath before speaking. “You were drunk, that’s all it is. You were drunk, and you tripped off the boat, taking me with you.”
Fury bubbled up inside him, an emotion he rarely used. “No. You sent us plunging into the ocean. You should have gotten help.”
Kat walked up closer to him, her eyes sparking in anger. “No . . .” She dragged the word out. “You were about to fall in. I went to save you, and I would’ve too if I’d known how to tie better knots.”
He snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. “Clearly. But that would also take being able to follow directions, something you obviously don’t know how to do.”