Page 52 of Uncharted Desires
She smiled, but inwardly she knew it couldn’t be. She, too, wanted to give him everything. It was better she ended this now before she became even more attached.
“What are you thinking?” He always seemed to notice when she was deep in thought.
“Nothing,” she said quickly.
“Liar.” He smirked. “But we might as well get a move on, so I’ll make you tell me later.
Before she could respond, he gave her a quick kiss, then stood to pick up the boat keys, jingling them in front of her. “Are you driving or me? You did such a good job getting us out of there, but I’ll let you decide.”
West could feel her mood. She didn’t know how he did it. He knew her better than she knew herself. He knew she didn’t want to drive, but also knew to ask. When did he become considerate? A single tear rolled down her face, followed by another until it all came flooding out of her.
He didn’t run away—not that he could—or ask her what was wrong. He simply pulled her into his arms, wrapping her in his warmth, and rubbed her back in soothing circles. He spoke softly, telling her how amazing she was, that they were almost to the end of all this, and his kind words made her cry even harder.
She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, crying like a fool. Eventually, the tears dried, and she wiped her eyes on his already dirt-stained button-down. She stepped back, looking into his eyes, and the care and compassion she saw reflected in them made her almost break down again.
He cupped her cheek and smiled. “Let’s get home.”
Eight hours at sea, driving in what felt like circles, and they were almost out of gas. West looked over the bow of the boat at Kat as she watched the waves pass by. She had been quiet and not herself. Being kidnapped and shooting a man would probably do that to a person, but he felt it was something else, like she was distancing herself from him. He didn’t like it.
As they moved closer to society, West couldn’t tell what was going on in Kat’s mind. He wanted to see where this went. To see if they could be together in the real world. It would kill him to let her walk away, but if that was what she wanted, he would never stop her. Deep down he knew she cared for him too.
He had opened himself up to her. Came almost too close to revealing his feelings for her, but since her tears that morning, she had been almost silent. He was worried he had said too much.
In the distance, he saw another island but was unwilling to get his hopes up. They had seen multiple islands, and each time they had driven around only to find them uninhabited. As they got closer, the island grew in perspective, looming larger in front of them, the trees growing from the craggy hills sticking out above the surface. Kat was standing on the bow of the ship pointing excitedly toward her left. He looked, almost falling to his knees as relief swamped his every last nerve.
A group of fishermen was working off the beach while other men sat at the edge of a dock. There were multiple boats floating in the water. The island wasn’t large, but it was large enough. There were people here! Now, hopefully, they could find a way to get to Jakarta. West pulled the throttle back, putting the engine in neutral.
“West, what are you—” Kat asked, stopping mid-sentence as he prowled toward her. He was in front of her in two steps, pulling her into his arms and kissing her. He didn’t know if it was from the relief of ending this nightmare, or if it was because he needed her to know that even if this was the end of their predicament, it wasn’t the end of them. Either way, he needed her lips on him.
She nipped at his lower lip, and he reveled in the feel of her. He pulled her closer, feeling her breasts pressed against his chest. He wanted to rip her clothes off and finish what they’d started this morning, but they had an audience. A boat didn’t just sail up to an island and not draw attention.
Stepping back, he broke the kiss, a deep sense of longing overtaking him. He wanted to pull her back into his arms, but instead, he walked back to the steering wheel, pushed the throttle up, and steered the boat toward the dock. A man directed him where they wanted him, and he docked their vessel. The men jumped onto the deck and started inspecting it. West did not know what they were looking for, and he grabbed Kat as they both got off.
The men started asking him questions, but he didn’t understand them. They most likely spoke Indonesian or a dialect of their own island. They pointed at the boat, and then at him and Kat, and he shook his head, gesturing that he didn’t know what they wanted.
“It’s not our boat,” he said, hoping someone might understand him.
One of the men looked at a kid of maybe ten or eleven who took off running.
They talked, and Kat looked at West, concern etched on her face. He wanted to smooth away the lines on her forehead and make her forget all her worries. They were going to get home; they were too close not to make it. He squeezed her hand, and she leaned into him.
The boy ran back with someone new who looked to be in his forties, maybe his father, and was wearing Western clothing.
“Hello,” he said in clear English.
“Oh, hi, you speak English?” Kat asked him.
“Yes.” He nodded to the boat. “Where have you come from?”
Kat and West spoke at the same time, saying that it was a bit of a long story. They looked at each other and laughed, and West could feel his heart swell for the woman at his side. He couldn’t even think of the last time he’d just laughed with a woman without pretense.
The man across from them didn’t seem amused.
“You tell him,” West said, looking at Kat.
“Is this your boat?” he interrupted before Kat could say anything.
“Oh . . . well . . . no, we stole it,” Kat admitted, as her feet began drawing pictures in the sand that had built up on the dock.