Page 39 of Uncharted Desires

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked her.

Her eyes narrowed, her hand dropping. “I’m pretty sure you can give me more than a penny.”

“Is that all it takes? What’s your price for you to tell me what you were just thinking?”

She couldn’t tell him. She didn’t want him to know all the insecurities that flowed through her. She knew it sounded whiny and ridiculous, but he did that to her. For now, they were in a fantasy land.

“Getting off this island.”

He let out a long whistle. “That’s a high price.”

“That’s when I’ll tell you what I was thinking.”

He sat silent for a minute, and now she was the one wondering what he was thinking, but she was unwilling to ask. “I guess we better go up the mountain and see if there is a way to get home. Rest a bit and we’ll go up in a few hours.”

His strong arms enveloped her, and at that moment, Kat knew she never wanted to leave his embrace. It was where she belonged. A dangerous longing filled her, knowing it could never be her reality, but desperate for it nonetheless.

Twelve

Scaling a mountain after giving herself stitches was a horrible mistake. Kat’s arm was on fire and begging her to stop. Throughout the climb, she feared that she might have popped her stitches, but by the time they reached the top, she was relieved to see the bandages had held. The cliff wasn’t straight up, thankfully; it had a gradient that made climbing easier than it could have been. Granted, the last time she’d rock climbed she’d been in her twenties and securely tethered to the rocks with a harness, so of course she was nervous.

“Please tell me there is an easier way down.”

West pursed his lips, and Kat groaned, knowing the answer was not the one she was hoping for.

“At the risk of being an ass, I told you your arm wouldn’t be able to handle that climb.”

“It’s fine.” She held up her arm to prove it and almost cried out in pain.

He lifted one infuriating eyebrow, and she hated he could read her so easily.

Although the sun was still high in the sky, their shadows had lengthened slightly, and Kat judged it to be around three or four o’clock in the afternoon. She was getting good at telling time by the sun, her ancestors would be proud of her.

Tucked away behind rocks at the highest point on the hilltop, they peered out onto the expanse of coca plants below. Men were scattered among the fields, their hands busy plucking off leaves, which they tossed into baskets.

“Is the coca plant legal in Indonesia?” she asked.

“I highly doubt it. Even weed is illegal. They’re pretty big sticklers about all mind-altering drugs.”

“Then why would these people choose Indonesia for their operation?”

West scanned the fields. “You’re the one who said there are six thousand uninhabited islands. They found one and started an operation under everyone’s noses.”

“Smart.”

West gawked at her. “Did you just compliment a drug ring?”

“I didn’t say they should do it. It’s just smart.”

“Where do you think all these workers came from?” West asked.

“Wouldn’t be the first time White men exploited people of color to make a buck.”

West stared at her like she had five heads, and she shrugged. The scene was eerily similar to pictures of slaves working in the fields. The Indonesian men were pulling the leaves, while two White men surveyed their work. She hoped the workers were at least getting paid well, but she doubted it.

“Maybe we can blow the whole operation up.”

“Jesus, Kat, you are crazy.”