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I Will Survive
Samantha Connolly


When mild-mannered librarian Jessie Banks ends up as a finalist on the hot reality-TV show Survive This!, her whole world turns upside down."Stranded" on a tropical island with Nick Garrett–a hunk of a host–and two other competitors, she's thousands of miles from home, with only her humor, her smarts and the contents of a clutch bag to help her win a million dollars.Will she survive the scheming producer's ways, tricky challenges, secret cameras, the theatrics of the other contestants and Nick's charm and flirty good looks? Well, with her book knowledge, practical skills and blossoming confidence, everyone else just might be surprised….May the best woman win!







Dear Reader,

I don’t know anybody who hasn’t had this fantasy at one time or another. To be marooned on a tropical island with the man of your dreams—heaven!

Add to that fact that I’m a big fan of survival and wildlife shows, especially the ones where the presenters are so cheerful and unruffled as they ramble on about poisonous plants or marauding herds, while pointing out the volcano behind them that’s due to erupt at any moment or the piranha-infested river they’re planning to kayak, just as soon as they’ve splinted the leg of this cute little snarling puma.

Writing this book was a dream because I got to create my own heart-melting presenter and also to wonder how I might fare in a survival situation—though I freely admit I didn’t take my research as far as eating bugs!

So sit back and enjoy this feast of sand, sea and s…Well, I’ll say no more. Slap on that sunscreen and enjoy the adventures of the indomitable Jessie Banks!

Best wishes,

Samantha Connolly




She was just tired, that was it. That had to be it.


Jessie’s eyes widened as Nick unbuttoned his shirt. Had she been completely wrong about him? About this show? Was she expected to have sex with him after all? On camera?

“Here,” said Nick, handing her his shirt. “Put this on. It’ll give your things time to dry.”

Jessie was mortified by her assumptions and touched by his consideration. She took the shirt and slipped it on.

“I just wanted to tell you that you don’t have to worry about bunking together tonight…. I mean, uh, that’s not something you, uh…”

So much for her ego. Jessie said awkwardly, “Uh, oh, you neither, of course.”

“Let’s get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.”

Nick seemed devoid of any awkwardness as he lay down on the cot and curved his arm around her. She snuggled against him and could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest. Meanwhile, her heart was thudding like a piston.

Suddenly Jessie decided that she didn’t care if the others were less than ten feet away. She was in bed with Nick Garrett—gorgeous, kind, hugely popular TV host—and she was going to make the most of it.




I Will Survive

Samantha Connolly





www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




ABOUT THE AUTHOR


Born in Ireland, Samantha Connolly has lived all over the globe. Her family (mom, dad, younger sister) moved to Australia when she was four. Six years later the family returned to their native Ireland, where her parents opened their own bookshop. And there Samantha’s love affair with books began. Growing up surrounded by books, she dreamed of writing one of her own someday. After completing university, she lived in London for several years, working in a number of places, including an art gallery. And she earned her private pilot’s license (now sadly expired due to lack of flying hours, but she plans on retaking the exams one day!). Samantha, too, has now returned to Ireland and gotten serious about her writing. She divides her time between putting pen to paper and working in her family’s bookstore. Her hobbies include horseback riding, camping and, of course, reading.




Books by Samantha Connolly


HARLEQUIN DUETS

86—IF THE SHOE FITS

104—A REAL WORK OF ART


This one’s for Kathryn Lye Editor extraordinaire Whose persistently high standards both exasperate me beyond measure and make me write better than I knew I could

For all the many times you’ve made me want to throw my laptop out the window My deepest thanks




Contents


1 (#u73b5a96c-1f7d-57a0-99f7-26470c0a5dd2)

2 (#ud1620776-f44a-533b-9006-2633c532dd81)

3 (#ue2296f04-1f5b-51ab-8934-a936571442fe)

4 (#litres_trial_promo)

5 (#litres_trial_promo)

6 (#litres_trial_promo)

7 (#litres_trial_promo)

8 (#litres_trial_promo)

9 (#litres_trial_promo)

10 (#litres_trial_promo)

11 (#litres_trial_promo)

12 (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)




1


JESSIE BANKS STEPPED out of the tiny bathroom and looked crossly at the other occupant of the small cabin.

“This is ridiculous,” she said. “I won’t wear this.”

Lois ran her eyes appraisingly over Jessie. “But you look fantastic. It’s perfect on you.” She moved out of the way to allow Jessie to look at herself in the full-length mirror. Jessie spread her arms.

“Oh, you’re right,” she said. “What was I thinking? This is indeed the perfect outfit for ten days on a desert island.”

The yacht crested a wave and Jessie teetered on her five-inch heels.

“That’s the spirit,” said Lois, deliberately ignoring Jessie’s sarcasm.

Jessie sighed and pointed at the cargo pants and checked shirt that were strewn across the bunk bed.

“Is the joke over now?” she said. “Can I put my own clothes back on?”

Lois raised one perfectly plucked eyebrow and her gaze turned steely. “Look, a shipwreck is an unexpected thing, right? When it happens you don’t really have the luxury of picking and choosing what you’re going to wear.”

“I’m aware of that,” retorted Jessie. “But even if I can’t wear my own clothes is it really necessary for me to be dressed like a…well, a lady of the night?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” scoffed Lois. “That’s a designer dress.”

Jessie pulled up one of the spaghetti straps that had slipped off her shoulder. “It may well be a designer dress,” she said in despair, “but it still feels like it’ll fall apart before we even get to the island. I don’t see how it’ll last the whole ten days.”

“So that can be one of your projects on the island, to fashion yourself some new clothes.”

“Let me guess,” said Jessie. “Coconut shells and a grass skirt?”

“Whatever you like,” said Lois impassively.

Jessie turned back to the mirror again and gazed at her implausible attire. The red dress, which stopped a good four inches above her knees, was made of some kind of stretchy, spangled material that hugged every curve of her figure. It was a figure that was usually hidden by her demure tailored suits at work or played down in jeans and loose-fitting chambray shirts at home but even in those innocuous clothes it could still only be described as statuesque. And with the strappy shoes bringing her height to almost six feet she was barely able to stand up in the cramped cabin.

She turned back to Lois, polite but determined.

“I’m sorry but this is not going to work. I’m not wearing it and you can’t make me.”

Lois riffled through the sheaf of papers she was holding and thrust a few pages towards Jessie.

“Actually, we can.”

“What’s this?”

“It’s a complete copy of the rules, terms and conditions of the competition, which, in entering, you agreed to abide by.”

Jessie flipped through the pages, squinting at the dense print. “I never saw these.”

Lois shrugged. “Contestants were invited to send away for the full rules if they so wished. Have a look at Section Two, Part Four.”

Jessie read aloud. “The attire and accoutrements of the participants, aka competition finalists, shall be determined at the sole and total discretion of Quest Broadcasting.”

Jessie looked up and waved the rules at Lois. “I don’t suppose there’s any other little surprises in here that I should know about, is there? Any little clauses saying I have to sleep with Nick Garrett by any chance?”

Lois let out a fake laugh. “What you want to get up to on the island is entirely up to you.” She shrugged. “Of course something like that wouldn’t hurt the ratings.”

Jessie gave her a narrow-eyed look which didn’t appear to faze the producer in the slightest. “So,” she said brightly to Jessie. “I’m afraid you do it our way or not at all.”

Jessie looked back at the mirror, struggling with her decision.

She had long been an avid fan of Survive This!—the TV show where the charismatic presenter and survival expert, Nick Garrett, spent each week in a different situation. Whether it was wilderness or rainforest, desert or arctic, Nick showed the viewers how to find water, create fire, build shelters and subsist on the indigenous wildlife. And as if it wasn’t enough that he had all that skill and expertise, the guy was also charming and funny and just an all-round, total hunk.

In contrast, Jessie’s practical survival knowledge was nil. There wasn’t much call for a small-town librarian to go trapping wild rabbits, building rafts or knowing the correct smoke signals to attract search-and-rescue teams. That didn’t stop her from reading every book she could find on the subject or harboring a secret certainty that, should an emergency situation arise, she’d be able to acquit herself admirably.

When Nick had announced that they were putting together a special show whereby members of the public would be selected to enact a survival situation on a tropical island she’d realized immediately that she had no chance of being picked. But she’d amused herself by entering the competition anyway, sending off the requested essay, photograph, and biographical details. She’d nearly gone into cardiac arrest when Nick had reeled off her name on the program, along with the two other people that she would be competing against for the grand prize of a million dollars.

A flight to L.A., then into the offices of Quest Broadcasting and, after another flight to Tahiti, she had boarded the yacht that was currently speeding her towards an isolated, uninhabited island.

She couldn’t back out, not after coming this far. To spend a fortnight with Nick Garrett on a tropical island, even without the incentive of the prize money, was an unmissable opportunity. Both for the sake of an unforgettable adventure and also to see if Nick really was as funny and captivating as he always seemed on the show.

Okay, the fact that there’d be a camera following them around was a little unnerving but, up to this moment, hadn’t proved a sufficient deterrent.

Because, of course, she hadn’t imagined herself appearing on the nation’s television screens dressed quite like this.

She gave Lois one last beseeching look. “Are you sure you don’t have anything else I could wear?”

“That’s it,” said Lois impassively. “Take it or leave it.”

Jessie laughed weakly. “It’s going to look pretty strange wearing my backpack over this.”

“It sure is,” agreed Lois. “Which is why you won’t be. Attire and accoutrements,” she reminded Jessie. She pointed to a small purse on the bed. “You can take that evening bag. It matches your dress.”

“But…” Jessie faltered. “You mean I’ll have no equipment? No supplies? Nothing?”

Lois folded her arms and gave a sigh to emphasize how very patient she was being. “Look, I don’t see how I can make this any clearer. You know the premise. You’re on a cruise ship and it goes down in the middle of the ocean. You, Nick and the others are washed ashore on a desert island. Lucky for you Nick is a survival expert. You guys, however, are just civilians. I mean, let’s face it, anyone could manage if they were washed up with a bag full of survival gear, couldn’t they?”

Jessie felt herself wavering. She had to admit that Lois was making a good point. “I guess you’re right,” she said at last.

“Great,” said Lois. “Well, let’s get this show on the road. Or, should I say, into the water. You ready to go?”

“I just have to use the bathroom.”

Lois nodded. “Okay, then come straight up on deck.” She made for the door.

Jessie kept the smile on her face until Lois left the cabin but then she quickly replaced it with a look of determination.

She grabbed the sparkly purse and shuffled through the contents.

Perfume, lipstick, a compact and condoms.

Jessie rolled her eyes.

Keeping one ear cocked for the sounds of anyone approaching she rummaged in her backpack and pulled out some of the things that she’d prided herself on packing. Penknife, a mini compass, sunscreen; one by one she squashed them into the bag. A tiny sewing kit, she’d definitely be needing that. She opened the perfume bottle and, without so much as a blink, poured fifty dollars worth of scent down the sink. She rinsed the bottle and refilled it with something much more useful. She rolled up the lipstick and snapped it off at the base. Ten waterproof matches fit perfectly inside the tube. She put the perfume bottle, the compact and the lipstick into the bag and held the condoms for a moment, vacillating, before she eventually tucked them back in, too, reasoning that they didn’t really take up any room.

JESSIE HAD TO SHADE her eyes as she climbed up the narrow stairwell to the deck of the yacht. The sun was dazzling and the sky and sea seemed to be competing to show off how blue they could be. Jessie gasped as she spotted, looming on the horizon, a breathtakingly beautiful island. Green forest flowed down to the golden beaches and birds wheeled overhead.

There were about twenty people on deck and Jessie stood awkwardly, holding onto the handrail, trying to ignore the sidelong glances and startled whispers that her appearance had provoked.

Lois beckoned her over to the side of the yacht. After a pause Jessie let go of the handrail and tottered over on the spiky heels. She fell forward to grab the side-rail as she reached Lois.

“Good grief,” she complained. “These shoes are hazardous.” She lowered her voice and spoke plaintively to Lois. “I feel like an idiot.”

Lois waved her hand dismissively at the people milling around. “Oh, they’re just crew and staff, forget about them. This is who I want you to meet. Jessie, say hello to Kenny, our on-site cameraman. Kenny will be following you and the others with the handheld.”

Jessie smiled and looked with yearning at his baseball hat, sloppy jeans and checked shirt.

“Hey, that’s a great dress, man,” he said, greeting her with the kind of complex hand signal that she had only ever seen MTV presenters use.

“Er, yes,” she said. “Thanks…Kenny.”

Lois waved her hand towards the sea. “So, what do you think of your island?”

Jessie grinned unabashedly. “It’s amazing. I can’t believe this is happening. I don’t know if what I’m feeling is excitement or terror. This is it, it’s real.”

“You bet it is,” said Lois. She held out a pair of binoculars. “Here, take a look, the others are waiting for you.”

Jessie took the binoculars and scanned the shoreline. She zeroed in on the three people standing on the beach and she breathed in as she recognized Nick Garrett.

It was really him! At the first glimpse of that unmistakable tanned face and dark blond hair Jessie felt her heart grab before it kick-started again with a thud. Nick’s arms were folded and he was nodding as he listened to the man next to him, his dark brows dipping into a concentrated frown, shadowing his eyes. Jessie realized she was holding her breath and she let it out, wondering what she was going to say when she actually met him. Just say hello, she told herself, tell him how much you like the show but be normal. Please don’t start giggling or fawning or anything embarrassing like that.

She lowered the binoculars as she realized that Lois was talking to her.

“It’s a pity we had that trouble with your flight but don’t worry about it. The others have already had one night on the island but we won’t be officially starting the competition until tomorrow anyway. I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to get settled in. Now, what we’re going to do is drop you into the water about a quarter mile from shore. Your bio said you could swim?”

Jessie nodded.

“Anyway, Kenny and I will be alongside in a motorboat so you won’t be in any danger, we just want to get the shot of you, literally, washing up on shore.”

Jessie nodded again, too nervous to speak.

THE WATER WAS WARM and the sun glinted sparkles into her eyes as she was lowered into the sea. She had looped the evening bag over her shoulder and across her chest and it bobbed alongside her.

She treaded water for a moment, feeling her muscles loosen and then struck out for shore. At least her dress and shoes didn’t weigh her down, which was about the only good thing that could be said for them.

She heard the thrum of the motorboat and paused, treading water again as it came up beside her.

“How are you doing?” said Lois, yelling to be heard above the sound of the idling motor.

“Fine,” called back Jessie.

“Okay, we’re right here if you need help. You look great.”

Jessie looked at Kenny whose face was hidden behind the camera and he gave her a thumbs-up. She grinned and turned back towards the island. She struck out resolutely, getting closer to the dream island with each pull of her long arms. Her mind was flitting about wildly. She wondered what the other contestants would be like and what sort of challenges they were all going to face. Would they be at each other’s throats at the end of the ten days or would they have made friends for life? Was there any hope at all that she might even win the money?

She was about thirty meters from shore when she felt the strap of her evening bag slip off her shoulder and down over her arm. She grabbed wildly for it but it glided through her fingers and down around her waist. She could feel the bag knocking against her ankle and she knew she’d have to catch it before it had a chance to slip away entirely.

She stopped, kicking rhythmically to keep her head above water while her hands swept around her, clutching for either the bag or the strap. She glanced towards the shore and she saw Nick come down towards the shoreline. She waved reassuringly and dipped her hands under again to search for the bag.

She couldn’t feel anything so she took a deep breath and ducked her head under the surface, searching for the glittering prize. The strap was caught on her shoe and she struggled with it, trying to unhook it. She came up, treading water while she caught her breath. The sun flashed off the water, dazzling her and she ducked under again, clutching at her foot. The strap had wound around her ankle so it was almost a minute before she got it off and she burst her head to the surface again, gasping for breath. She shook the water from her face, her heart thumping with triumph and she gulped in lungfuls of air to pump her up for the last stretch.

Suddenly she was yanked forcefully through the water as a huge arm was thrust around her neck.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” came Nick’s voice in her ear. Spumes of water sprayed on either side of her face as he tugged her along in a lifesaving grip.

Jessie spluttered as she caught a mouthful of water and she tugged at his muscular forearm, trying to break free. She opened her mouth to tell him she was okay but another splash caught her, setting off a fit of coughing. Nick swam like a shark, dragging her body along as if she were nothing more than a rag doll and eventually she just gave up trying to escape because his grasp was unbreakable. He was obviously intent on saving her so she just clung grimly to his arm as his strong legs kicked between hers. She caught a glimpse of the boat speeding along beside them and she tried to signal to Lois and Kenny that she was all right but they didn’t appear to notice and Nick just seemed to take her flailing arms as a sign of further distress because he tightened his grip and swam all the harder.

She was coughing again by the time they reached the shore and a sudden wave of dizziness overcame her as he laid her down on the sand. She closed her eyes against the glare of the sun and concentrated on getting her breath back. She became aware of Nick’s hand on her throat, checking her pulse.

“She’s okay,” he called as the motorboat pulled up onto the sand.

Jessie gasped as he lay his head down across her chest. She could feel water from his hair dripping onto her bare skin. “Good breath sounds,” he went on. “No water in there. I think she’s just fainted.”

“Excuse me,” said Jessie archly, “I haven’t fainted and would you mind getting your head off my chest.”

Nick’s head rose sharply and Jessie struggled to sit up. “I haven’t fainted because I wasn’t even in trouble in the first place. I was just…” She broke off, searching the sand around her. “Oh, no, my bag, where is it?”

“What?” said Nick in bemusement.

Jessie clambered to her feet, unceremoniously using Nick’s shoulder as a prop. “My bag,” she said insistently. “I don’t believe this, you lost it.”

“Are you okay?” he said.

She looked at him. “Am I okay?” she said derisively. “Of course I’m okay. For your information tough guy, I was doing just fine until you came along.” She pointed out towards the ocean. “I was just treading water and trying to catch my bag when you came storming up and almost killed me. What on earth were you thinking?”

He stood up, eyes flashing. “What was I thinking? Oh, I don’t know, maybe when I see someone struggling in the water I just assume that they could use some help. Why did you wave at me if you weren’t in trouble?”

“I was just waving hello!” Jessie exclaimed, her embarrassment making her defensive.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said angrily. “You stop swimming to wave hello and then you sink underwater a couple of times just for good measure? What is that, your idea of a joke?”

She was about to fire back another retort when she spotted a familiar red shape that was rolling in the small waves nearby.

“My bag,” she cried gleefully, stumbling towards it.

“Oh, great,” said Nick, following her. “You found your bag. I’m so glad. We wouldn’t want you to go through the next ten days without your makeup.”

She made a face at him and bent over to pick up the bag. Unfortunately she caught it by the bottom and released the contents in a shower as she lifted it. She fell to her knees and grabbed at the sewing kit as it tried to float away on a wave and she dug the penknife out of the wet sand before thrusting them back into her purse.

Nick’s voice came from above her. “Don’t forget these.”

She turned her head and her gaze traveled up his long legs to see the condoms that he was holding out to her.

She snatched them out of his hand, not even looking at him and shoved them crossly into the bag.

Nick turned on his heel and stomped away from her. “Lois, you and I need to talk, right now,” he said.

“Be right there, Nick,” said Lois. She turned to Kenny, her eyes shining with excitement. “Did you get all that?”

Another thumbs-up from Kenny. Lois clenched her fists triumphantly. “This is great television,” she exclaimed, trotting after Nick.

Jessie put her head in her hands. Welcome to paradise.

JESSIE UNDID THE STRAPS of her shoes and took them off before she stood up. Okay, that was a start. There were strands of hair sticking to her face and she wiped them back while she looked properly for the first time at the two people who were going to be her companions for the next ten days, as well as her competition.

“Hi, there,” said the woman. “Is that your own dress?”

Jessie looked down. “Gosh, no. There’s no way I would have worn this.”

“It’s beautiful,” said the woman. “I wish they’d given it to me.” She put out her hand. “I’m Cindi Todd. That’s Cindi with an i.”

Jessie shook hands with her, frowning slightly. “Isn’t Cindy usually spelt with an i?”

The two women looked at each other.

“I mean, with an i at the end,” said Cindi.

“Oh, okay.” Jessie nodded. She laughed. “So it’s really Cindi with two is.”

Cindi’s smile tightened. “I’ve found that people usually know what I mean.”

Jessie raised her eyebrows at the condescending tone and there was an awkward pause before Cindi spoke again, pointing down at her own attire. “I think I’m supposed to be one of the ship’s crew. A chambermaid or cabin-maid or whatever they call it.” She was wearing a fitted black uniform with a white apron. It had long sleeves, Jessie noticed jealously.

She doubted that “Cindi with an i” was a chambermaid in real life. She had the look of someone who spent a lot of money looking after herself. Her short, platinum, tousled hair emphasized her big eyes, full lips and Slavic cheekbones. She was five and a half feet of slender, toned perfection and she made Jessie feel gangly and clumsy.

It didn’t help that Jessie was also an inch or two taller than the other contestant.

The man pushed his glasses up on his snub nose before he spoke.

“I’m Malcolm Talbot,” he said. “From Denver, Colorado.”

“Nice tuxedo,” said Jessie. It probably had been nice originally, and on a handsome man it might have looked rakish and dissolute, but Malcolm didn’t look as if he’d be comfortable in a tuxedo at the best of times. With his round face, receding hairline and owlish glasses he simply looked disheveled and lost.

“Did you guys get ‘washed-up,’ too?” asked Jessie.

Cindi and Malcolm looked at each other.

“Uh…no,” Cindi said apologetically. “We were brought to the shore.”

“I’m not a very good swimmer,” added Malcolm. “So I probably couldn’t have done it anyway.”

Jessie could see that he was trying to make her feel better and she smiled in appreciation.

“It really was quite a long swim,” chimed in Cindi. “You shouldn’t be embarrassed about getting into trouble.”

“But I didn’t,” said Jessie. She kept her voice pleasant but spoke firmly. “I only stopped because I thought I’d dropped my bag. I didn’t actually need to be rescued.” She turned to Kenny who was hovering silently nearby. “I mean, you were filming it. You saw that I wasn’t drowning, right?” She paused, waiting for an answer. “Kenny?”

Kenny’s head came away from the camera’s eyepiece and he grimaced apologetically. “Uh…I’m not really supposed to talk, you know. I’m just like, an independent observer. Just pretend I’m not here.”

“It’s okay,” Cindi said reassuringly. “I don’t have a clue about any of this survival stuff, either.” She shrugged. “That’s what we have the men for, right?”

Jessie’s mouth fell open but before she could respond, Malcolm spoke up.

“I’ve got lots of survival books at home and I love Nick’s show. I mean, I’ve never done anything like this before but I really wanted to come. Then, last night, we had to build our own shelters and go and find water and purify it. It was great!”

His eyes lit up as he talked and Jessie got the first inkling that Malcolm might actually be fun to be around.

Cindi laughed at his enthusiasm and put her hand on his arm. “Perfect! You can feel free to help me out any time you want. I won’t argue.”

“I’m really looking forward to doing stuff like that, too,” insisted Jessie, trying not to sound belligerent. “I think that’s part of the fun of being here.”

“Oh, I see,” said Cindi thoughtfully. “You guys are here for fun.” She lifted her eyebrows into two wicked darts. “It’s got nothing to do with winning a million bucks?”

Both Jessie and Malcolm laughed out loud.

“Let’s face it,” said Cindi, “we’ll probably end up backstabbing and betraying each other at the end but at least we can start out as friends, right?”

Jessie grinned, her misgivings about Cindi falling away. The girl was brash but at least she was up front about it.

“I’ll be honest with you,” Cindi went on, “I really don’t care about the money.”

“Yeah, right,” scoffed Jessie cheerfully.

“No, really,” laughed Cindi. “I’m in it for the fame. I’ve been trying to get my break as an actress for years and you can’t beat this kind of exposure.”

Malcolm and Jessie looked at each other.

“I believe her.” Malcolm shrugged. “I’m not really in it for the money, either. I just want to prove to myself that I can do it.”

Jessie spread her arms. “This is great. I am in it for the money, so why don’t we just agree that I’m the winner?”

Malcolm laughed. “I would but my wife would kill me. She’s pregnant and a million dollars would make a great nest egg.”

“Ooh, congratulations,” cooed Jessie and Cindi. Emboldened by their interest, Malcolm pulled out a photograph which was tucked into a small, plastic sleeve. “This is my Debbie,” he said bashfully. “That’s us on our honeymoon, in Miami.”

“She’s lovely,” said Jessie. Okay, Debbie wouldn’t be gracing the cover of Vogue anytime soon, but the couple had their arms around each other and the Malcolm in the photo looked just as besotted as the one standing in front of them. “You two look really happy.”

“We are,” said Malcolm, taking back the photo. “Married almost three years.”

“No husband or kids for me, thank you,” said Cindi. “I like the single life way too much. How about you, Jessie?” She picked up Jessie’s hand. “I don’t see a ring. You married? Or got anyone special?”

Jessie hesitated. That question would have been so much easier to answer only twenty-four hours earlier.

She was thinking about what to say when she realized that both Cindi and Malcolm were looking past her shoulders. She turned to see Nick bearing down on them, Lois hot on his heels.




2


JESSIE STRAIGHTENED HER spine and licked her lips nervously as Nick and Lois re-joined them. Kenny circled around so he could catch Nick’s arrival.

“Okay,” said Lois, crackling with authority. “Jess and Nick, I love this sexual tension thing you two have got going on and we’ll really play on it later but, for now, let’s just put it on hold until we get the practicalities sorted out.”

Jessie was horrified, even more so when Cindi nudged her and made kissy noises.

“There’s no sexual tension,” Jessie and Nick said in unison and then their eyes met in dismay.

Lois laughed delightedly. “Right,” she said. “Obviously. Anyway, I’m going to give you the rundown and I’m only saying it once so listen up everyone. We’re trying to keep the camera presence as unintrusive as possible. Even though this is a special we’re maintaining the feel of the regular Survive This! show, so Kenny will be the only handheld following you. Unless you have to split up and then we’ll bring in temps. Apart from that there are cameras scattered around the island.” She smiled. “We call them the Island Eyes.”

“Where are they?” asked Jessie.

“You don’t need to know. Now, you’ve also got the confession cam in the tiki hut, which is beyond the coconut trees at the end of the beach. Contractually, you’re obligated to do ten minutes, twice a day, but you can go in more often if you like. Remember, it’s no-holds-barred in there. Talk about life on the island, each other, what’s happening, any problems you’re having. If you’re thinking it, we want to hear about it.” She waggled her finger at them. “No holding out on us. And remember, that’s also your chance to address the audience directly. Which leads me nicely on to my next point.”

She looked down, checking her clipboard. “Nick will be setting challenges for you while you’re here and there’ll be a certain amount of points going for those. But sixty percent of your scores will come from audience votes so in the end, they’re the ones who will really be deciding who wins.”

Jessie nodded along with the others and then risked a peek at Nick. He was looking down at the sand, apparently listening, and she let her gaze linger on his face. The blue-green eyes framed with dark lashes, the thick tousled hair, the laugh lines at the corner of his eyes matched by the brackets on either side of his mouth. His features were so familiar from all those evenings on the sofa laughing along with his modest self-deprecating comments that she had to remind herself that he was a stranger to her. Then there was also the fact that, much as she’d told herself not to have any expectations, she hadn’t been able to resist the occasional fantasy regarding what would happen on the island. She’d imagined that, as she met each challenge with grit and determination, Nick’s admiration for her would grow and one night as they were gazing into the fire he’d suggest that just because their adventure was coming to an end didn’t mean their friendship had to.

“I’ve shared more with you in two weeks,” he’d say, “than with people I’ve known my whole life.” And then maybe he’d take her hand in his and lean towards her…

Except that now he thought she was some sort of hysterical bimbo.

Great start.

She suddenly remembered Kenny’s camera and she turned her attention back to Lois, hoping Kenny hadn’t caught her looking too moony.

Lois was still talking. “The first show goes out in two days, on Friday, and it’s going to be one hour a night every night after that, made up of edits from the handhelds, the Island Eyes and the confession cam. That’s what I’ll be spending my days doing, just in case you think I’m going to be out there drinking piña coladas on deck while you’re scrounging for grubs and berries here.”

They all smiled dutifully.

Lois came over to Jessie and handed her something that looked like a button on a shoelace. “Here, wear this around your neck.” She showed her a small black box. “This is the transmitter. Just clip it onto your dress or underwear or whatever. I want you all miked-up all the time, though please remember to take them off when you go in the water. Say something, Jess.”

“I prefer to be called Jessie, not Jess.”

“Got it,” said Kenny, tapping his headphones.

“Good,” said Lois. “Don’t worry, you’ll soon forget you have it on. Now, I think that’s it. I’ll be coming back and forth from the yacht anyway to iron out any wrinkles as they occur. Kenny will stop filming in the evenings and start up again at 7:00 a.m. so you’ll have the nights to yourself.” She treated them to another feline smile. “Apart from the Island Eyes, of course. Are there any questions?”

“So we haven’t really started yet?” asked Jessie. “I mean, will that stuff in the water be used?”

“We’ll use whatever’s good,” said Lois disingenuously. “So, welcome to your new home away from home and good luck to all of you.”

Silence followed and they all looked at each other until Lois made shooing gestures. “Go,” she said impatiently. “That’s it.”

Nick took a step towards Jessie and held out his hand. “I’m Nick Garrett,” he said. “Welcome to the island.”

“Jessie Banks.” Their eyes met as she introduced herself but she looked away quickly, infuriated to feel herself blushing.

“You’ve met the others?”

Jessie nodded, smiling. If Nick wanted to pretend that that little incident in the water had never happened, she could go along with that.

“Okay then,” said Nick, turning to Malcolm and Cindi. “Why don’t we go and show Jessie what we’ve done so far?”

Jessie let the others go ahead of her and she turned hurriedly to Lois and Kenny.

“I’m sorry to have to ask,” she said, “but I really could use a drink of water.”

Lois pointed at Nick. “Ask him,” she mouthed. “We’re not here.”

Jessie looked at Nick’s retreating back and muttered an oath under her breath.

“For the record,” came Kenny’s calm voice behind her, “the microphone you’re wearing is very strong.”

Jessie blushed again and started up the beach after Nick.

“I WAS JUST WONDERING—”

“Malcolm constructed the second eave of his shelter by himself,” said Nick. “He’s a fast learner.”

“That’s great,” said Jessie. Her throat was getting more parched by the minute but the others weren’t giving her any opportunity to broach the subject. They were too eager to show her the shelters they’d built the night before.

Jessie nodded politely as Malcolm extolled the virtues of vegetation as an insulating material but her eyes were darting around, trying to locate the supplies.

How rude is this, she thought, inviting someone to your home and not offering them a drink? Even if the home in question is only a smoldering fire and three V-shaped tents made out of sticks and grass.

Her disenchantment must have showed on her face.

“I hope you’re not getting cold feet,” Nick teased her. “I had to give a pep-talk to the others last night and I’m going to tell you the same thing now. The competition and the prize money, that’s only a small part of our stay here. Despite what my producer might think, this is not a game show. It’s going to be the real thing. A lot of my viewers are no strangers to survival situations themselves and I’m not going to cheat them by taking shortcuts. We’ve come onto this island with no supplies and we won’t be getting any help. It’s going to be up to us.”

“Speaking of supplies,” Jessie cut in. “I was wondering if I could get a drink of water. I got salt in my throat and it’s also much hotter here than I’m used to.”

“That’s a good idea,” said Nick. “Cindi, Malcolm, let’s see if you remember what to do. What’s the first step of purifying water?”

“Filter it,” gushed Malcolm.

“Right, and what do you do then?” Nick looked at Cindi who was fiddling with the skirt of her uniform.

“Is it heating it?” She squinted. “I forget.”

Nick tsked. “Okay, Malcolm can show you. Get to work.”

Today maybe, thought Jessie. Her dress was beginning to dry in the sun and she was longing to have a look around the island. The beach stretched enticingly in either direction and she could see palm trees swaying in the distance. But she couldn’t concentrate on any of it when her mouth felt like it had an inbuilt dehumidifier. She moved her tongue, trying to dredge up some saliva.

“What are you doing?” asked Nick.

Jessie stopped masticating. “Nothing,” she said vehemently before she realized he was talking to the others. She coughed and mimicked his look of concerned curiosity.

“We’re boiling water,” Malcolm said hesitantly.

Nick walked over and kicked apart the embers of the fire. “I lit this fire,” he pointed out. “I want to see if you can do it.”

Another milligram of Jessie’s patience slipped away.

“So we need tinder materials,” said Malcolm enthusiastically. “And something to produce friction.”

“That’s good,” said Nick. “I hope you’re paying attention Cindi, I’ll expect you to do it next time.”

Cindi gave him a flirtatious grin. “I pay attention to everything you say, Nick.”

“Apparently not,” he retorted playfully.

Jessie fiddled with a strand of her hair, considering the possibility that she might actually shrivel up and die of dehydration, right there on television.

She watched with mounting despair as Malcolm fumbled with a stick and a piece of bark.

“No,” he complained to Cindi, “you have to use the dry moss first. Try and crumble it up into smaller pieces and hold it over to the side.”

“You’re supposed to move the stick faster,” nagged Cindi in return. “It has to smolder.”

“On a scale of one to ten,” Jessie said conversationally, “how bad would it be to drink salt water?”

Nick smiled at her, evidently under the impression that she was joking. “About a five. It wouldn’t kill you but it wouldn’t do anything for your thirst, just make you feel worse.”

“Worse than I do now,” murmured Jessie. “Imagine.” Her throat was so dry that she couldn’t even swallow.

Another five minutes passed and Nick hunkered down to help out.

Jessie looked out to sea, at the yacht bobbing gracefully in the distance. She glanced at Kenny who was quietly filming them. She looked down to the shore, where Lois was yapping on a walkie-talkie.

She silently counted to ten and then opened her purse and took out the lipstick.

Nick paused in his efforts and looked up at her in disbelief. “Making sure you look good for the cameras?”

Jessie didn’t answer. She took the top off the lipstick and rolled it up, catching the matches as they emerged. She held one out to Nick.

“Here, tough guy, let’s get this show on the road.”

She couldn’t help smirking as his eyes widened in surprise.

Malcolm barked a laugh. “Where’d you get those?”

Jessie held up her sparkly evening bag and felt a glow of satisfaction as a small smile quirked the corners of Nick’s mouth. She rolled the matches back into the lipstick and tucked it away in her purse, then met Nick’s eyes.

“Look,” she cajoled, waving the match, “next time you can light it from scratch but I really need a drink, right now.”

The laughter lines around Nick’s eyes deepened. He took the match and started to scrape the waterproofing wax off it.

“Are you going to keep calling me that?” he said in an undertone.

“What?”

“Tough guy,” he muttered.

He looked vaguely uncomfortable, which Jessie found endearing. “I’m not sure,” she teased. “I’m kind of getting used to it.”

Nick struck the match and Jessie gave a cheer as the small bundle of tinder lit into flames.

“HI, EVERYONE! Uh…is this on? Well, I’m going to assume that red light means it is.” Jessie got comfortable in the seat and beamed at the camera.

“Welcome to Castaway Island and this, my very first broadcast. I have to say that it’s quite strange to be talking into a camera like this but I’m sure I’ll get used to it.” She waved cheerfully. “A big hi to all my friends back home in Iowa. Look, I made it! Martha and Sophie, I hope you’re being nice to everyone at work and hello to all the regulars at Fairbury Library. Janice, you’d better have one of your apple pies ready for me when I come home, something tells me I’ll have quite an appetite. Marty, thanks again for house-sitting and feeding Toby and I’d better have both a house and a dog when I come back. No wild parties, I mean it.”

Jessie paused and subconsciously folded her arms. “And Tom, hi. Thanks for seeing me off at the airport. Uh…I haven’t thought…that is to say…what I mean is I’ll see you when I get back.”

She looked down, trying to recover her train of thought and quickly found something else that bore mentioning. “Ah yes, my dress. Well, what do you think? Pretty glamorous, eh? It’s what every fashion-conscious castaway is wearing this season.” She made a wry face. “Don’t know if you’ve seen what the others are wearing, but I think I drew the short straw. I might have to steal Malcolm’s jacket while he’s sleeping.” She laughed. “Don’t worry Debs, I’m only kidding. I’m sure that neither Cindi or I will be doing anything to your husband while he’s sleeping.”

Jessie paused, thinking. She wanted to make a joke about how the other contestants deserved the money so much more than her, but she was afraid that the audience might take her seriously. There was no point sabotaging herself from the start.

She searched the sides of the hut for inspiration. “Oh, jeepers, I almost forgot.” She laughed at the camera. “And all you gals out there are probably yelling at me to get to the good stuff. Well, Nick Garrett is currently getting some food together for our dinner, which I’m really looking forward to. I’m starving.” Her eyes twinkled playfully. “But at least I’m not thirsty anymore. But I will warn you now that there will be a preponderance of shots of me drinking water. It is hot, hot, hot here. I guess that’s what you get when you come to the Tropics.” She looked up at the thatched ceiling. “Although, it’s not so bad in here. This shade is nice.”

Then she realized she was rambling and she looked back at the unblinking eye with the red light underneath it. “Where was I? Oh, yes, Nick’s making dinner.” She hesitated and then resolved not to let the silly misunderstandings cloud her judgment. It was much too soon to be saying things that she could regret. “So, I’m here to tell you that he is just as handsome and friendly in real life as he is on TV. A little overeager in some cases,” she couldn’t help adding, “but that’s hardly a crime.” Her mouth curved cheekily. “He’s very good at lighting fires.”

She rushed on. “And later, I’m really looking forward to exploring the island.” Her eyes lit up. “This place is so amazing. You should see the—” She broke off, laughing. “Hang on, you are seeing it. Okay, I think I must be getting delirious from hunger, I’d better go and see what’s cooking.”

She put a hand to her hair, thinking again of her friends. “I was in the water so I might look a bit bedraggled but I’m feeling good so don’t worry about me…just keep watching this space! Uh…that’s it, bye. Over and out.”

She waited a moment to see if the red light went out but it didn’t so eventually she just got up and left the hut.

“NO WAY,” SAID CINDI. “It’s just not going to happen.”

Kenny panned the camera down slowly to zoom in on the squirming, fat, beetle grubs and then up again to record the contestants’ expressions of repulsion.

“It’s okay, I am going to cook them,” Nick said.

Cindi shook her head. “I don’t care. I am not eating those. They’re disgusting. They even smell bad.”

Malcolm rubbed his hands together. “Sorry, Cindi, but if that’s your attitude, you’re going to be easy to beat. I have no problem with eating grubs.”

“Wait a minute,” said Cindi in outrage. “We haven’t started the challenges yet, have we? I thought we were starting tomorrow.”

Nick was cutting up some sweet potatoes and he paused to look at Cindi.

“Why?” he smiled. “Would you eat them if it was part of a challenge?”

Cindi jutted out her chin. “Of course.”

Nick nodded thoughtfully and went back to work. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Cindi gave Jessie a look of dread, making Jessie laugh. She looked at Nick who put the potatoes in a large tin of water and started to cook them over the fire.

“Where did you get that?” she asked suspiciously, pointing at the tin. “I thought we were surviving from scratch here.”

Nick looked up, pleased. “We went beachcombing yesterday. Managed to find ourselves some treasure.”

“Treasure?” Jessie smiled, playing along. “Like Spanish doubloons?”

Nick pointed out towards the west. “Now that you mention it, there have been ships wrecked on the coral reefs out there so it’s not unknown for the odd coin to be found on islands in these parts.” He put up a hand to forestall her excitement. “But I was actually talking about treasure of a different kind. Like this, which as far as I can tell is an old paint tin. Don’t ask me how it got here, maybe someone was touching up the paint job on their boat. Anyway, to us, it’s a cooking pot.” He looked up at Malcolm. “Want to tell her what else we got?”

Malcolm didn’t hesitate. “A rope. About ten feet long. And not as rotted as it seemed at first.”

“Cindi?” said Nick.

“Don’t tell me,” Cindi said eagerly. “I know this.” She scrunched her nose up prettily before sitting up straight with excitement. “Ooh, I’ve got it. Two bottles. So now we’ve got something to store our clean water in and to drink out of.”

“And to send SOS messages in,” commented Jessie, earning herself a grin from Nick.

“And we got some different-sized shells,” Nick added, handing them around. “Which we can use as bowls and spoons.”

They took their eating utensils and then watched with quiet curiosity as Nick whittled at a thin stick, scraping off the bark and sharpening one end to a point. He picked up one of the unappetizing white grubs and, without ceremony, speared it upon a stick.

“Eeeouw,” howled Cindi, flinging her hands over her face.

Jessie couldn’t help looking away as well. Malcolm kept watching as Nick impaled the remaining grubs, but his face was a few shades paler by the end.

Nick grinned cheerfully at their reactions and held the beetle-grub kebab over the fire while he stirred the sweet potatoes.

He gave Malcolm the job of straining the potatoes and dishing them out, while he concentrated on cooking the grubs evenly. They crackled as they gradually turned golden and crispy.

Unbelievably, Jessie’s mouth was watering.

They all made short work of the potatoes and then Nick asked for a volunteer.

“I will!” said Malcolm.

“Hold on a second,” said Nick, his eyes glinting mischievously. “Whatever happened to ‘ladies first’?”

“Very funny,” said Cindi, grimacing. “Forget it.”

Nick raised his eyebrows at Jessie and she caught her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Okay,” she whispered, smiling excitedly at her own daring.

Nick held out the stick and Jessie hesitated for a second, then she reached out and plucked off a grub, closing her eyes as she popped it into her mouth.

It was succulent and sweet, like a ball of crackling pork.

Jessie opened her eyes as she chewed it. “This is delicious,” she said. She looked at Cindi. “Seriously. You should try one.”

Cindi put up her hands. “No offence, but I just met you and, frankly, I don’t believe you.”

Poor Malcolm was almost quivering with the desire to display his grit, so Nick took pity on him and handed him the stick. Malcolm removed a grub and then paused, a frown shadowing his round face.

“Are these high in cholesterol?”

JESSIE SMOTHERED ANOTHER yawn as she watched the dancing flames. She’d thought she might go exploring after dinner but in the end she just didn’t feel like moving from the fireside.

It was her first chance to really think about what she’d let herself in for. Her expectations and hypotheses had been inadequate preparation. In her imagination the other contestants had been mere ciphers, just background figures in Jessie’s adventure with Nick Garrett. A few short hours with them had cured her of that misconception. They were real people, with their own personalities and their own agendas.

Throughout dinner and afterwards, Jessie had been quietly studying them, trying to work out why they had been picked out of the thousands of people who had entered the competition.

Malcolm was so innocuous and eager to please that Jessie had come to the conclusion that he was there simply because he was the embodiment of Everyman. He was ordinary and human and easy to identify with.

And Cindi was obviously the sassy, worldly, city girl—a part she seemed more than happy to play.

But if they were dealing with stereotypes, what role had Jessie been drafted for?

She raised her eyes from the fire and stole a quick glance at Nick. He was whittling efficiently at some sticks, creating rudimentary forks and spoons out of pieces of wood. Jessie looked down again, grappling with her thoughts.

To her dismay, the mild crush she had on Nick Garrett, TV personality, had transferred itself directly onto Nick Garrett, actual person. Jessie had been prepared to be somewhat awed and starstruck on meeting him at first but she’d presumed it would only be a temporary imbalance. Unfortunately, there was no sign of it dissipating. She was trying to act normal but her heart still took on an erratic beat whenever their eyes met, and her capacity for putting together sentences, which she’d always taken for granted, seemed to desert her whenever he was around.

It was especially horrible because it was just so clichéd. He had all the ingredients for a male fantasy figure. His features weren’t perfect but somehow they added up to a face that was warm and welcoming. His eyes were very clear and intelligent and his mouth always seemed to be on the verge of a smile, even when things were going from bad to worse, as they occasionally did on his show. He was friendly, easygoing and genuine and Jessie found herself utterly tongue-tied in his presence.

Her only consolation was that she didn’t think it was showing.

Up until now.

Now that she was alone with him, things were becoming strained. Malcolm had gone off eagerly to do his time with the confession camera and, when the dinghy had come to pick up Kenny for the night, Cindi had volunteered to walk him down to the shore—and Jessie still wasn’t sure what that was about.

Jessie and Nick hadn’t talked for over ten minutes and while Nick seemed unperturbed by the silence Jessie was desperately searching for something to say. She kept coming up with lighthearted conversation topics and then discarding them because they seemed trite or forced and the more time that passed the more pressured she felt. She’d been so glad when the others had left them alone and now she was just praying for their return. A movement caught her eye and she looked up to see Nick holding up the spoons.

“No more eating with shells,” he said cheerfully.

“Yes,” said Jessie. There was a painful pause and then she added, “Indeed.” She smiled inanely and looked out towards the shore. She could see Cindi chatting to Kenny and the crewman who had come to collect him. What was that girl up to?

Jessie looked back at Nick, realizing in a rush that there was something that needed to be said.

“Uh, look, I’m sorry I yelled at you earlier, when I came ashore. I know you were only trying to help.”

Nick glanced up. “That’s okay. I’m sorry I tried to save your life.”

Jessie blinked. She hadn’t expected sarcasm.

Nick put his hand to his head and let out a low laugh. “No, wait a minute, that came out wrong.”

Jessie smiled, feeling an odd surge of affection at his embarrassment.

“I really didn’t mean that the way it sounded,” he went on. “I promise. I’m sorry, too. Sorry that we got off on the wrong foot.”

“I can see how easily you might have thought I was in trouble,” Jessie said generously. “You were right to try and save me. Better safe than sorry.”

He shook his head in mock regret. “I don’t know. At the time I thought you were going to start whacking me with your bag. I was about to throw you back in.”

Jessie laughed.

“Of course, now I know why you were so anxious to rescue that bag,” said Nick. Jessie nodded smugly, at last beginning to feel the possibility that she might make friends with Nick.

“I hope Lois doesn’t get too mad,” she said.

Nick tilted his head quizzically and then she saw comprehension dawn on his features.

“You smuggled those onshore,” he said.

Jessie nodded, pleased by Nick’s obvious admiration.

She didn’t even notice Cindi’s return.

“What are you looking so happy about?” said Cindi.

Jessie flushed. “What? What do you mean?”

“Relax,” said Cindi, “I was just asking.” She sat down on the log next to Nick and leaned over to nudge him playfully with her shoulder. “I’m afraid that I might have interrupted a little tête-à-tête.”

Jessie wanted to go over and push Cindi off the log. Nothing sophisticated, just push her so she went ass over teakettle onto the sand. She didn’t know if it was deliberate or not but Cindi was exhibiting a real knack for dissolving any burgeoning friendship that Nick and Jessie managed to achieve and embarrassing them back into self-conscious formality. Or maybe it was just Jessie she was embarrassing.

“Anybody mind if I hit the hay?” said Malcolm, joining them at the fire and evidently not noticing any strain in the atmosphere. “I’m exhausted again and I don’t even know why. It’s not like we even did that much today.”

“It’ll take time for your bodies to get used to the heat,” said Nick. “Just wait until tomorrow, you’ll really find out what tiredness is about.” He laughed at their expressions. “It’s a good idea for us all to get some rest.”

They got to their feet, stretching and yawning in the mild night air.

Cindi looked at Jessie in consternation. “Where are you sleeping, Jessie?”

Jessie looked around in dismay. She hadn’t even thought about it. Had they expected her to build a shelter? Why hadn’t anyone said anything?

“She’s sleeping with me,” Nick said casually.

Jessie looked at him and then let out a laugh. “Oops,” she giggled. “Did you hear what you said? Another slip of the tongue.”

He looked at her blankly. “No. I meant it.”

Jessie swallowed. “Excuse me?”

“Sorry, I should have explained sooner. You’re going to share my shelter tonight. There’s too much risk that you’ll get cold overnight on your own and if I share out my clothes it’ll just leave us both underdressed. This is the only way to do it until we’ve had a chance to scavenge something to make clothes out of.”

He gave her a frank smile. “I promise I’m not trying to take advantage of you, it’s just a survival tactic. If you get cold you won’t be able to sleep and you’ll be irritable tomorrow.” His eyes grew playful. “You might try and attack me with your bag.”

Jessie returned his smile and offered a suggestion. “Maybe I should bunk down with Cindi instead.”

“Sorry,” said Nick. “I’m under instructions from Lois. Since you’re all competing she wants to keep you separated.”

Jessie nodded, keeping her face impassive. Trust Lois. Even though Kenny was gone, Jessie had no doubts that their sleeping arrangements were going to be caught on one of the Island Eyes. The woman knew how to make good television.

Jessie glanced up at the nearby trees, wondering if there was a camera focused on her right now and hoping that her indifferent expression was fooling it. She might be feigning resignation with Lois’s decision but inside she was jittering with nervous excitement at the thought of sharing a bed with Nick.

Cindi was evidently thinking along the same lines.

“Well, aren’t you the fast mover, girl,” she said with an outrageous grin. “I guess you knew exactly what you were doing when you wore that dress.” Cindi giggled as if she was only kidding around, but Jessie’s face flamed regardless.

“It’s not…I didn’t plan on…”

“It’s about survival,” said Nick, unruffled. “Nothing more.”

“Survival of the species,” said Cindi in an undertone to Jessie. “It wouldn’t surprise me if Nick’s planning a little propagation. Lucky you.”

“Oh, right,” Jessie whispered back. “Like we could do anything without you and Malcolm hearing it.”

Cindi raised an eyebrow. “So you have been thinking about it.”

Jessie shook her head, but Cindi just winked at her. “Sleep tight,” she said as she sauntered off to her own shelter.

“Okay, you too,” said Jessie with forced brightness. “See you in the morning Malcolm.”

“Yup,” he said. “Good night.” Malcolm obviously didn’t intend to be as blunt as Cindi but he didn’t have to be. Jessie could see the inevitable speculation in his eyes.

Jessie winced and then she followed Nick over to his shelter, trying to shake the feeling that she was the chosen concubine.

“Are you tired?” asked Nick conversationally.

She nodded, realizing that the weakness in her legs needn’t necessarily be attributed to the fact that she was about to bed down with Nick Garrett.

She was just tired, that was it.

Her eyes widened in alarm as Nick unbuttoned his shirt. He took it off and then pulled his T-shirt over his head in one fluid motion.

Jessie couldn’t tear her gaze away from Nick’s chest, naked except for the microphone around his neck. She didn’t know what to do. Had she been completely wrong about him? About this show? Was she expected to have sex with him after all? On camera?

“Here,” said Nick, handing her his T-shirt. “Put this on.” He put his shirt back on and bent to untie his boots. “I’ll give you my socks as well, they should be some help.”

Jessie, mortified by her assumptions and touched by his consideration, slipped the T-shirt over her head. It smelt of him and she wrapped her arms around herself as she felt the lingering warmth of him seep into her skin.

Nick gave her his socks and then covered his microphone, indicating she should do the same. Jessie wrapped her hand around the microphone and stared at his face, shadowed in the moonlit night.

“I just wanted to tell you that you don’t have to worry about…I mean, what Lois said earlier about the sexual tension…that’s not something you have to worry about.”

Jessie felt her chest constrict and she was glad of the darkness. “Oh, gosh,” she fumbled, “you neither. I mean, you don’t have to worry. Of course not.”

He nodded and smiled. “Come on, let’s get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.” He tilted up the roof of the shelter so Jessie could lie down and then he arranged himself next to her, lowering the roof above them.

The bed was too narrow to allow any space between them and anyway, Nick seemed devoid of any self-consciousness as he slid one hand under her neck and curved his arm protectively around her. He was lying on his back and Jessie found herself nestled in the crook of his arm, her back snuggled warmly against his side. She could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest and she made an effort to slow her own breathing, certain that he could feel her heart thudding like a piston. Her gaze dropped to Nick’s arm and she could see the golden hairs glinting in the tiny rays of moonlight that seeped through the roof branches. She could imagine the salt on his skin and wondered how he’d react if she just tilted her head down and licked it.

She closed her eyes. A few moments passed and then she decided that she didn’t care if the others were less than ten feet away. She was in bed with Nick Garrett and she was going to make the most of it. She rose up and turned over in the bed. She looked down at Nick who was watching her with dark eyes and she moved over until she was straddling his lap. She peeled off the T-shirt and then slowly, tantalizingly, dropped first one strap and then the other until her breasts were bared to his gaze.

Nick’s reaction was immediate and passionate and probably would have done him proud had he been aware of it. Jessie had already succumbed to sleep and her flickering eyelids were the only evidence that such a shameless seduction was taking place.




3


NICK WAS WOKEN by the bright sun shining through the pinhole gaps in the leaves of the shelter. The air was comfortably warm and he could hear birdsong and the rhythmic crash of the waves on the shore.

He yawned and looked down at the head that was resting in the crook of his shoulder. He could see the sweep of Jessie’s brows and her chestnut hair fell in a thick cascade over his arm. She stirred in her sleep and her mouth parted to emit a soft snore.

Nick smiled, remembering how quickly she’d fallen asleep the night before. He’d deepened his breathing as soon as they lay down, hoping to put her at ease by making her think he was already asleep. He hadn’t been sure what kind of reaction to expect to the revelation that they were sharing a bed but the way she just lay down next to him without making any sort of fuss about it had impressed him.

Truth be told, his overall impression of her was a good one. She seemed to have a lot of spirit and he liked the determined glint that had sparked in her eye when it came time to eat the beetle grubs.

Nick had been unenthusiastic about this castaway competition from the start. He was used to working on his own—just him and the elements—and he had tried doggedly to disenchant Lois of the idea. But she had remained resolute and while Nick knew that she couldn’t fire him she did have the power to thwart or curtail his future projects. Working with Lois was a particular kind of torture, working against her didn’t even bear thinking about.

So it had never really been a matter of “if,” but “when.”

Of course now that he was in it, he had to admit that he was intrigued by what was going to happen. In his show he reminded viewers over and over again that psychology played a vital part in survival. In extreme circumstances a strong mind could make a weak body do impossible things. But the reverse was also true. When the mind gave up, the body followed.

The fascination of watching random people under pressure was irresistible. Who’ll crack, who’ll turn nasty, who’ll come through with their integrity intact, who’ll surprise?

Nick also knew that when a group of people found themselves in a genuinely life-threatening situation it was always only a matter of time before the instinct for self-preservation caused rifts and betrayals. However, the castaways with Nick were obviously in no real danger of starving to death. And so, the money prize had been introduced to provide the necessary incentive to selfishness and backstabbing.

How long before they stopped working together?

Nick smiled to himself as his thoughts meandered. Lois had done a good job of picking the finalists. Nick knew that hopeful contestants had sent in a biography and an essay detailing their most impressive survival experience to date but he had never gotten to see these. Neither had Lois told him anything about the eventual finalists. Her idea was that it would make it more interesting for him to be in the dark about these strangers that he was stranded with.

He’d had little more than perfunctory conversations with them so far. He knew that Cindi was a bartender in New York—”By which I mean, I admit it, I’m an actress. Between jobs, you know?”—and that Malcolm was some sort of accountant—”Figures and statistics, I won’t bore you with it.”

And his impression of Jessie? Only fleeting so far but he liked her. What was it she’d called him? Tough guy. It should have annoyed him but there was something about the way she said it, so casually and without a hint of flirtation, that made it sort of charming.

Out of the corner of his eye he glimpsed movement at the opening of the shelter and he tilted his head up to see Kenny’s camera trained on them.

Nick let out a quiet chuckle. “Morning. How about giving us a minute to wake up?”

Kenny lifted a hand in greeting but didn’t move away as Jessie started to stir. She let out a sigh and her eyelids fluttered open. She looked blankly at Nick for a moment, blinking, until a smile of recognition curved her lips.

Nick instinctively returned the smile. “Morning.”

“Yeah…hi,” mumbled Jessie, putting a hand up to brush some strands of hair back from her face. She rubbed her eyes and blinked a few more times, looking around blearily as if getting her bearings.

She raised herself onto one elbow and, catching sight of Kenny, let out a laughing groan and turned away from him, hiding her face.

The next moment Jessie burst through the top of the shelter, shrieking at the top of her lungs.

Nick watched, stunned, as her head disappeared through the hole in the roof and he heard her exclaim to Kenny, “Did you see that? It’s enormous!”

Nick winced. He had hoped that if she did notice the bulge in his trousers that she would at least have had the diplomacy not to mention it. Her comments, flattering though they were, were the last thing he’d expected or wanted. What was the matter with her?

He looked down just in time to see a gecko lizard slithering off the bed, its long tail flickering as it scuttled out of the hut.

Nick got up, running his hand through his hair and stretched as he emerged from the shelter. He smiled when he saw Jessie watching fearfully from a distance.

“It’s okay,” he said, raising his hands in a gesture of triumph. “I have vanquished the monster.”

“What the heck was it?”

“It was just a gecko lizard.”

“A lizard?” said Jessie. “Are you kidding me? Lizards are small and cute. That was as big as a dog.”

Nick offered the camera a skeptical look. “More like a cat really.”

“It was sleeping on top of us!”

“Yeah,” said Nick. “They like the warmth. And maybe the companionship, who knows?”

“Great. I hope the two of you will be very happy together. Don’t forget to invite me to the wedding.”

“Look,” said Nick reasonably. “There’s no need to be scared. They’re vegetarians, harmless really.”

He watched as a flush rose on Jessie’s cheeks. She was obviously considering how her reaction had looked on camera.

“I wasn’t scared,” she explained. “I just got a fright. I wasn’t expecting to wake up next to a lizard.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” quipped Nick.

He was pleased to see Jessie smile sheepishly. She pressed her hand to her chest as if calming a racing heart.

“Phew,” she breathed. “And to think that I was worried about being able to wake up properly without my morning cup of coffee.”

Nick laughed. As startling as it had been, at least the incident obliterated any awkwardness that might have hung over them waking up together.

Then he looked over at Cindi and Malcolm, who had emerged from their respective shelters with the same shocked expression.

Of course, Jessie’s shriek was still going to take some explaining.

“I WAS NOT TRYING TO molest her,” said Nick for the fourth time. “Will you please stop saying that I was.” He indicated the trees. “We are on camera, you know.”

Cindi made the unconvinced and uncaring face of a cop writing up a ticket. “I’m just saying it was an awful big yell to have been caused by such a little thing.”

“It wasn’t little,” grumbled Jessie. “It was huge. It was a mutant lizard. You’d have screamed, too.”

Cindi waved a dismissive hand. “I’m not really phobic about reptiles.”

“Neither am I,” argued Jessie hotly, her voice heading for the top end of the scales again.

Malcolm interrupted the squabble. “I have a phobia of—”

Silence, punctuated by the hiss of simmering water, followed.

“Of?” prompted Nick.

Malcolm sank his head into his neck and looked unhappy. “I don’t want to say.”

Nick regarded him for a moment, then smiled in approving comprehension. “You think I’ll use it against you.”

Malcolm nodded, miserable with the strain of defying his hero.

“I’m phobic about pizza,” said Cindi with a hopeful expression. “Please don’t make me eat pizza, I’ll freak out.”

“Only two days and already you’re dreaming about pizza?” said Nick in a disappointed voice.

Jessie spoke up. “I, too, find it hard to believe that the thrill of sweet potatoes would ever wear off, having had them for both dinner and breakfast already.”

“Okay,” surrendered Nick. “Don’t worry. Our diet will become more varied. I saw some banana trees on the other side of the island and we’ll find lots of papaya bushes inland. And of course we’ll be catching fish. Best of all though, when I got those delicious potatoes I noticed that there was evidence of damage around the stems and leaves.”

“From mutant lizards,” guessed Jessie.

“Even better,” grinned Nick. “From wild pigs.”

Jessie raised a dubious eyebrow. “And that’s good, how?”

Malcolm interrupted eagerly. “It’s great. We can hunt them and have a roast.”

“You can hunt them,” clarified Jessie.

Malcolm turned to Nick. “Can I?” he said, like a child asking permission to run downstairs on Christmas morning.

“Sure,” said Nick. He liked that Malcolm’s enthusiasm was unfettered by his manifest ineptitude.

Jessie lifted her face to the sun and then took off the T-shirt that Nick had given her, handing it back to him with a smile.

“It’s so warm already,” she said. “I’ll definitely need a swim later.” She rustled in her sparkly evening bag and drew out a thin tube of sunscreen, applying some to her face before offering it to the others.

“That’s okay,” said Nick. “My skin is used to the outdoors.”

Cindi also demurred, explaining that she and the sun-bed were old friends.

“No tan lines,” she added provocatively.

Nick watched Malcolm keeping his gaze fixed firmly on the ground and then he looked at Jessie. She was smiling blandly as she held the sunscreen out to Malcolm but her foot was jiggling. With impatience, or annoyance at Cindi?

Malcolm eventually glanced up and noticed Jessie’s offering. He hesitated, as if he wanted to be macho and refuse, but then he took it and slicked some quickly over his nose.

Nick let his eyes drift to the middle distance again, before anyone realized they’d been observed.

The growl of an engine broke the morning stillness and they all looked out to the shore and slowly got to their feet as they saw the motorboat pulling up.

“Yoo-hoo!” Lois called as she came trotting up the sand towards them. Her eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses but her mouth was curved in a broad smile.

“Success!” she exclaimed, raising her hands in excitement. “Just wait until you hear.”

Whoa, thought Nick, looks like someone around here has had their morning coffee.

Her hands gesticulating madly to emphasize her words, Lois spoke to the group assembled. “We played the tapes for our test audience and, get this, Jessie, they loved you. I’m not kidding, they thought you were really fresh and feisty and then you bowled them over with how nice you were on the confession cam. Good work!”

Nick looked at Jessie. Her mouth was gaping in surprise. “Looks like you’re a natural,” he said encouragingly.

Lois turned her attention to Nick. “I know,” she said happily. “I can’t believe it. The audience even gave you some stick for rescuing her when she so obviously didn’t need it.”

Nick’s brow creased slightly. “What?”

Lois nodded. “Yeah, isn’t it cute? She’s become a sort of heroine of the people. They love her indomitable spirit and her cheeky talk-back attitude.”

It was Jessie’s turn to look nonplussed. “My what?”

Lois ignored her. “It’s better than I’d dared to hope,” she said, gazing dreamily out over the ocean. Her eyes flicked back to Jessie’s. “I’m even going to let you keep your bag of tricks.” She wagged her finger. “Bold girl. I don’t know how you thought you’d get away with smuggling.”

“That’ll teach you to mess with the gestapo,” muttered Cindi.

Lois shifted her laser stare. “Having a talk-back attitude with me isn’t going to earn you any points, take my word for it.” She flicked through the pages on her clipboard. “But I will tell you that you’ve got a lot of admirers, too. We’re hearing very complimentary things about your looks. General consensus, you’re quite a beauty.”

Cindi smiled and lowered her eyes modestly but Nick noticed that she didn’t exactly blush.

“What about me?” asked Malcolm.

“Er, yes, they like you, too,” was Lois’s lukewarm response. “Anyway,” she went on, brightening, “everyone’s really looking forward to seeing how real-life people cope with life-and-death situations. They can’t wait to see you thrown into the fray. So, Nick, what have you got planned for us?”

“I thought that the first thing we should do is see how they fare at catching some fish.”

“Fishing,” said Lois, nodding in a thoughtful manner. “Right. Okay, why don’t you just get a gun and shoot me right now? Fishing’s the most boring thing I’ve ever heard. People don’t want to see fishing. They want to see these three put to the test. Challenged. Thrust into the action. They want to see a struggle.” She caught Jessie’s anxious expression. “Because they believe in you,” she reassured her, oozing sincerity. “They think you’re all just great. They identify with you and they really want to see how an ordinary person copes with the reality of life-or-death survival.” Lois framed her hands in the air as if sketching a blurb on a movie poster. “What they lack in experience they make up for in pluck and sheer grit.”

Nick stole a look at Lois’s victims. The two women wore doubtful expressions but Malcolm’s eyes were shining with evangelical zeal.

Lois raced on. “So we can have fishing and building rafts and all that, sure, but I’m thinking it’d be good if these things were somehow, I dunno, dangerous as well.” She looked speculative. “Are there alligators in these waters?”

“Wait a minute,” gasped Jessie. “I thought this was going to be about ordinary, practical survival. I didn’t come here for—”

“Look,” interrupted Lois brusquely, “you watch the show, right? So you’ve got a fighting chance. Anyway, it’s not important that you succeed. What matters is that we get to see you try. Even if you fall flat on your face it’ll still be great television and Nick will always be there to save the day.”

Nick decided it was time to step in. “There are no alligators in these waters, Lois, you know that, and even if there were, nobody here would be in any danger from them, I’d make sure of that. And furthermore,” he went on firmly, “fishing is life-or-death, we have to eat. So that’s what we’re going to do.” He turned to the others who were looking at him with varying degrees of gratitude and disappointment. “Now, if you watch the show, you should have some idea of what to do.” He took three bound coils of fishing line from his pocket and handed them around. “This is all I’m going to give you. You can go wherever you want and use whatever method you like and the first one to bring back a fish wins, simple as that.”

“Oh, wow,” said Malcolm, bounding off as if fired from a catapult, “I can do this.”

“Jessie?” asked Nick. “You ready?”

“Absolutely,” she said eagerly. “I know what to do. I watch the show every week. I’m a big fan.”

She walked off briskly and Nick turned to Cindi who was making an apologetic face.

“I’ll get you started,” said Nick, putting a hand on her elbow and leading her towards the shore.

It was safer than staying with Lois.

“I WATCH THE SHOW every week,” sneered Jessie. “I’m a big fan.” She cringed as another wave of embarrassment engulfed her. Could she possibly have been more ingratiating? She didn’t think so.

She tried telling herself to concentrate on the task at hand but there really wasn’t anything left for her to do. She’d put together a very respectable fishing rod in about half an hour. She’d made a lure out of a small gull feather and some sequins torn off her bag, tied together with a thread from the hem of her dress. The hook had taken longer but she’d eventually managed to splice two sharp slivers of wood together and attach them to the end of the line that Nick had supplied.

She was sitting on the end of a long promontory that jutted straight out into the sea. Her feet were dangling a few yards above the water which was so clear that she could see the sand and plant-life under the surface and she even caught the occasional glimpse of a fish as it shimmered by. Gulls wheeled overhead and sometimes one would plunge into the sea, then flap upwards with a wriggling fish clamped in its beak.

Her position also gave her a clear view of what the others were doing. Malcolm was at the other end of the beach and had left his fishing rod propped upright in the sand, while he seemed to be making something that was either a kitchen cabinet or an oddly shaped raft. Kenny was with him, recording the whole thing.

In the middle of the beach were Nick and Cindi. They were thigh-deep in the lapping waves and Nick was apparently teaching Cindi how to cast the line. Except that, even after an hour Cindi still didn’t seem to be getting the hang of it. She had taken off her chambermaid’s uniform and was now standing in her bra and panties, which Jessie could see, even from a distance, were hot pink. She watched as Cindi’s head tilted backwards as she laughed at something that Nick had said.

Jessie looked back at her fishing rod and gave it a desultory jiggle. She couldn’t stop brooding over what she’d said to Nick and the only distraction from the embarrassment was finding another new scratch or bite from the night before. The bed had been comfortable enough but when all was said and done it had still been a bed of twigs and foliage. She picked at her nails, trying to dislodge some of the dirt from under them. She just had a general feeling of grubbiness. She could feel the sand in her hair and the sticks that Nick had encouraged them to chew that morning proved a poor replacement for teeth that had been reared on soft bristles and fluoride. She reached up and scratched in annoyance at a bug bite on the back of her shoulder, shaking the line again in an effort to catch the attention of a fish, any fish.

Yup, it sure was nice to have nothing to do but sit and gaze into space while waiting for the fish to bite.

Another peal of laughter drifted over and Jessie clenched her jaw. She held off for about four seconds and then her eyes flicked down to focus on Nick and Cindi again. Just what was so funny about fishing?

Jessie sighed. She had to get this stupid jealousy under control. Cindi made her laugh sometimes and you didn’t see everyone else getting all bent out of shape about it.

What was Jessie so worried about anyway? It wasn’t like they could do anything on camera.

She shifted on the rock, rubbing her thigh to ease out a cramp. She didn’t care about winning the challenge at this stage. She just wished someone would catch something so she could give up on this lost cause. She scratched at her shoulder again and then froze, holding her breath. Had she imagined it? She held the rod steady, narrowing her eyes to try and see into the water. The sun was making shadows and reflections on the translucent surface, playing tricks with her eyes. She gasped as she felt another quick tug on the rod. The line tautened briefly, then went loose again.

“Here, fishy fish,” she whispered. “There’s a good fish.” She had emptied her bag onto the rock and now, using it as a glove, she started to pull the line in gently, winding it around the fishing rod. She was hardly daring to breathe as she felt the resistance on the line.

Praying that it wouldn’t turn out to be an old boot she continued to reel in the line, exactly as she’d seen Nick do on television.




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