Page 65 of Stuck in Paradise with You

Could I just put my wet, dirty clothes back on?No. That’s ridiculous. I need to pull up my proverbial big-girl panties. Or Jenny’s Ariana Grande wannabe pants.

I part my fingers like it’s Halloween and I’m home alone watching the scariest movie in the world. Peering through the gaps, I gasp again on seeing my body tucked into the most hip-pinching, thigh-hugging shorts I’ve ever worn. I take a deep breath. At least they fit, they’re dry, they’re black, which maybemakes them ever so slightly more subtle, and they’re high-rise. There are some positives.

Sadly, they aren’t high rise enough to bridge the gap between the matching black tank top – no, correction,bra– and the shorts. My bust is pushed up and my midriff is bared.

Slowly, tentatively, I peel my fingers away and plant my hands on my waist. If I wasn’t me and I wasn’t here, with my client and his family, friends and staff preparing for a storm, maybe,maybeI’d feel kind of… a smidge… sexy?

But Iamhere, on Charithonia, as Joe Hettich’s tax advisor.

‘This is a disaster,’ I tell my reflection, though my subconscious is making a gentle note that I could invest in some new gym gear when I get home.IfI ever get off this godforsaken island.

I open the washroom door an inch and peek out to the terrace. Everyone seems preoccupied. If I could just slip out of here, run the gauntlet of the entire width of the terrace, then along the pathway to my pod without being seen, I could find a modesty-preserving top to pull over this outfit. An inappropriate beach top would be better than this sorority costume dress I’m wearing.

Here goes…

I push open the washroom door, braced like Sha'Carri Richardson about to break the world record for the 100-meter sprint.

But…crap. The door is pushed right back and as I dive out of the collision path, Noah bursts past me, running with a football in his hands, Toby chasing after him and yelling, ‘Give it back!’

While the brothers exit the terrace as swiftly as they entered, I’m left standing in the open space, practically naked, with the attention of everyone out here trained on me.

I look around the faces, which feel like they’ve multiplied all of a sudden.

‘They fit you perfectly!’ Jenny calls, drawing even more attention and clearly oblivious to the intense awkwardness I feel.

‘Oh… Ah… Yeah, thanks.’ Some of the faces get back to their conversations but there are two men amongst the group who blatantly don’t. I’m vaguely aware that Henry is…ogling me? I’m acutely aware of the way Luke’s jaw stiffens, the muscle in his cheek twitches and the slow movement of his neck as he swallows.

I’m embarrassing him in front of his friends and co-workers. Not that… I mean, how canIembarrasshim? It’s not as if he has ownership of me or something. Yet that’s the sense I get and it makes me bring one hand to my abdomen and the other to my collarbone, both covering as much of my exposed body as I can.

I need to get to my pod.

Before I can take a step in that direction, Luke reaches for the hem of his hoodie to take it off. Henry also starts to unzip his sweater but Joe places a hand on his shoulder and shakes his head, then directs him away.

Meanwhile, it’s my turn to swallow deeply as Luke peels his hoodie over his body, his t-shirt underneath rising with it, fully exposing, inch by devastating inch, his solid torso. Luke was always in good shape but this…thisis something projected by men’s health and fitness magazines. An attempt to make men believe they can look likethis.

I can feel my heartrate soaring and I hope, in this equivalent of a negligée I’m wearing, that Luke won’t witness it hammering out of my chest.

When did I last breathe? Have I forgotten how to do it?I think I feel lightheaded. Nope, I definitely feel lightheaded and weak legged, and also really annoyed with my superficial brain for being unable to take my eyes off the divine example of a male body in front of me.

The show is over. Luke pulls down his t-shirt as he walks toward me, hoodie in hand, and offers it to me.

‘Here, you’ll get chilly in the wind once the sun goes down,’ he says. He doesn’t mention how obviously uncomfortable, gauche and inappropriate I must look too.

I open my mouth to thank him but it just sort of hangs there, stuck in gawping mode, and as if I wasn’t angry enough with my treacherous self, Luke makes it a million times worse when his mouth turns up at just one side. Smug and hot as hell.

I want to give him some smart or sarcastic one-liner but it’s like the music has stopped while I’m playing a game of statues.

He steps closer to me. So close, I can feel the warmth of his body, the heat of his breath. His fingertips rest on my hip and I inhale sharply when his thumb grazes the flesh of my waist. He leans into my ear and I feel his words against my skin. ‘If you keep looking at me like that, I won’t be able to keep my distance anymore.’

My breath leaves me, hot, heavy, wanton.What’s wrong with me?After everything he did,whydoes my body still want to betray me?

I turn my head to look at him and it’s a mistake. Our eyes meet and in his, I see a reflection of my lust. He’s serious. And though I shouldn’t, I can’t stop myself from wondering what it would be like to go there one last time.Would the flames between us still burn?

His mouth is dangerously close to mine and if he moves toward me, I don’t know if I’ll stop him.

One set of abs and toned pecs and all sensible thoughts have evaded me.

Luke straightens, winks at me. Not a cringeworthy, sleazy kind of wink, rather, a panty-melting, super-attractive, confident kind of wink.

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