Page 24 of Uncharted Desires

Kat tried not to look as West’s long, powerful form walked across the beach, and wished she could ignore his presence. She couldn’t help it. He had a magnetism that drew her into his sphere. His hair was wet and curling at his nape, and all she wanted was to run her fingers through it.

She should pinch herself for thinking something like that. Weston Monroe was an international pop-rock superstar. He was not interested in someone like Kat. Her eyes followed him as he bent down to pick up some dried leaves, admiring the way his swim trunks pulled across his muscular backside. He had toned calves, strong thighs, and perfectly sculpted glutes. Kat watched the rivulets of water drip down his muscles as she felt desire pulse through her. A truly unwelcome reaction considering their situation.

As West sifted through a pile of wood, every muscle in his legs and arms flexed. Even though she’d never found fit guys that attractive before, her mouth went dry. Why was she even looking at West like a piece of meat?

Probably because you’re hungry.

The spear hung heavy in her hand, reminding her of what she was supposed to be doing. She was starving, and while the idea of eating West sounded appealing, she needed actual sustenance first. Later she could consider if she was willing to be his flavor of the week. West didn’t allow feelings. Could she live with that?

Kat watched the fish swim near her legs; they seemed to have no fear. The spear was too long for her to throw like West had been doing, and its length made it quite unwieldy for her. No wonder he thought she couldn’t do it, but if the fish would come up close to her like this, maybe she could get one from up top.

A small school of fish swam toward her and she eyed them carefully. They looked similar to the yellowfin tuna she’d eaten in Bali—since the snake incident her biggest worry was ingesting something poisonous—so if these were tuna they’d be okay. After this, Kat would never make fun of doomsday preppers or survivalists again.

All the reality TV and TikTok videos in the world could never have prepared her for this. To top it all off, she looked like shit. Her hair was a tangled mess, and no amount of braiding could make it look good. Her nails were torn to pieces, and dirt covered her from head to toe. All the while West took one swim in the ocean and looked perfect. Men sucked.

Focus.

Her movements were slow as she watched the fish. As soon as she thrust the spear into the water, she knew the fish would scatter and her opportunity would vanish. With the spear poised above the water, she waited for the perfect time to strike. Closing her eyes, she listened to the water lapping against the beach, the breeze in the trees, and felt her feet sink into the sand with each push of the waves. Taking a deep breath, she inhaled the ocean air, clearing her head of all other thoughts beyond the fish swimming around her.

Opening her eyes, she held the spear with both hands, tracking a fish that was slower than the rest; it had an injured fin—a pity for the fish, but this was a matter of survival. She stood perfectly still, holding her breath, waiting. Inch by inch, it swam closer to its doom as Kat braced her arms, the spear tip held steady on the surface of the water. When the fateful moment arrived, she thrust down with all her might, feeling contact as she pierced through the flesh of the poor, defenseless fish.

“Yes!” She lifted the spear out of the water, amazed that she had caught not one, but two fish.

She began jumping up and down, the fish wriggling on the spear. “Oh West . . .” She smiled lifting the spear in his direction ready to gloat for days.

He glanced up from the fire he had been trying to make, disbelief written on his face, that soon turned to relief. “How did you . . .? I don’t even care, we’ve got something to eat. Great work, Kat!”

Kat couldn’t believe it. He was so different to the man she was used to. There was no manly pride or bluster, just sincere praise for her success.

She walked over to where he was working on the fire and was surprised to see a flame coming out of the coconut fluff he had used as tinder.

“Did you just rub two sticks together?”

“Maybe.” He grinned, looking guilty, and blew on the small flame, adding more tinder, allowing it to grow before adding the larger logs.

Kat set the spear down, glaring at him. “So, how’d you do it?”

He held up something that made Kat do a double take.

“Is that a lighter? Did you have that the whole time?”

She wanted to hit him! She had been starving and could have cooked some seaweed or something to tide her over. But she’d gone through all his pockets when he’d been unconscious, so where had he hidden it?

“No, no, I promise,” he said, seeing the disbelief in her eyes. “I was searching for tinder and sticks and found it. I wasn’t sure if it would even work, but it did.”

She sat down next to him in the sand, the urge to collapse into his arms stronger than she wanted to admit. For days, she had been trying to survive. She pushed the emotions to the side. She was close to food, and, hopefully, a good night’s sleep. She hadn’t slept and had eaten only rotten fruit. For almost forty-eight hours, she had been keeping West alive. He was shaky on his feet, even if he wouldn’t admit it. And Kat had to push back the sting of tears behind her eyes.

“Does that mean there are people on the island, you think?” They had covered little of the island, too busy trying to survive to explore.

“It’s possible; maybe on the other side. But it could also just be trash that washed ashore.”

Kat frowned, the weariness in her body sinking in. She needed to believe there were people. “Sad but true, but this is a big island. There could be people we haven’t seen yet. We could be off this island soon!”

West stood. “I wouldn’t get your hopes up.” He walked over to the fish, looking at the spear, admiring her handiwork. “How’d you do it?”

“Patience.”

“Mmmm,” he said as the delicious sound of his deep voice reverberated through her body. “I think there’s more to the story, but I’m too hungry to care. Lucky for you, my grandpa would take me fishing as a kid. I think I can cook these things well enough.”