Page 14 of Desert Island Duke

“I don’t suppose many women want to marry an ex-soldier, turned groomsman and valet,” he said evenly.

She almost snorted. She knew a hundred women who’d marry him, even if he didn’t have a penny to his name. The man looked like a Greek god. And he had a title. That alone made him matrimonial gold. Add an obscene amount of money to the mix, and it was a miracle he hadn’t been snapped up already.

Hayworth seemed to be expecting a response, so she feigned a look of sympathy. “You’ll get back on your feet. Who knows? In a year or two you might even be promoted to stablemaster.”

“Assuming we ever get off this island.”

They both gazed enviously over at the glowing orange flames. Hayworth waved, and received an answering signal from a figure on the shore.

He bent and started gathering an armful of driftwood. “We should prepare our own signal fire. That way, when a ship comes, we’ll be ready.”

Caro nodded, pleased with his confidence that she would, indeed, be able to make a spark for them soon. His belief in her abilities was heartening. So many men she knew would have tried to do the task themselves, or dismissed her idea out of hand, and insisted on trying a hundred other ways to start a fire.

They spent the next half hour stacking a pyramid of driftwood beneath the trees, then made their way back to camp.

The sun was slipping closer to the horizon, and the sky was beginning to turn a gorgeous mix of purples and pinks. It was going to be a spectacular sunset. Caro began collecting more driftwood in readiness for the morning, but Hayworth ventured to the water’s edge.

“I’m going for a swim.”

He tugged off his shirt and threw it up onto the dry rocks.

“You might want to look away, Miss Montgomery,” he warned with a low laugh, “because I am about to remove my breeches.”

Caro sucked in a breath and willed herself to turn and face the shelter, even though every fiber of her being wanted to turn around and peek. Her ears strained to hear the rasp of fabric being shed, then she heard the splash as he waded out into the shallows.

A larger splash, and she heard him call, “You can turn around now.”

She did so, and pretended she was perfectly used to seeing a partially submerged, naked man swimming in the sea not fifty paces from her.

Despite the clearness of the water, the lengthening shadows and unhelpful movement of the waves prevented her from seeing more than the briefest flashes of skin. But just the knowledge that he was there, perfectly naked, was enough to make her feel decidedly on edge.

The rosy glow of the setting sun gilded his broad shoulders and set the droplets of water in his hair sparkling. He ducked beneath the surface and reappeared, running his hands through his wet hair like some mythical merman, or Poseidon, emerging from the deep to claim a mortal lover from the land.

Caro could quite see how a girl might be tempted. The curve of his biceps and ridged perfection of his chest made her mouth run dry. The suspicion that he might be flaunting himself deliberately, to try to attract her, formed in her brain, but she dismissed it almost immediately. A man like Hayworth would never be interested in a woman like her.

“Are you coming in?” he demanded playfully. “You must be hot.”

Caro was decidedly warm – and not just from collecting the wood. She would have loved to take a refreshing dip, but there was no way she was going to take off any more clothing in Hayworth’s distracting presence.

“Maybe tomorrow. May hair will take too long to dry without the sun, and I can’t sleep if it’s wet.”

She doubted she’d be doing much sleeping at all, with that divine body right next to her in that ridiculously small shelter, but that was beside the point.

Hayworth sent her a chiding look that suggested she was a spoilsport, but she forced herself to cross to the stream instead and wash her face and hands. She kept her back turned when he finally left the water, and waited until he’d had ample time to dress before she looked at him again.

They ate the remaining mangoes as the light began to fade and the purple shadows lengthened.

“Tomorrow, we should try to walk around the island and see how big it is.” Hayworth said, and Caro had a flash of what he must have been like as a Captain in the army, planning the next day’s excursions into enemy territory.

“Then we can venture inland,” he continued, unaware of her perusal. “We can follow this stream and see where it leads. There might be a lake or larger river further up the hill that we can wash our clothes in. Salt water leaves them all crunchy.”

Caro nodded. “Yes. It would be nice to bathe in fresh water. We can look for more food, too. I remember where my mango tree is, but there will probably be others.”

“You don’t have to come,” he offered. “It might be quite strenuous.”

“Ha! I’ll wager I’ve crossed more difficult terrain than you have, Max Cavendish. I once had to cross a river while balancing between two suspended ropes. I’m not some simpering debutante who’s never been farther afield than Brighton.”

His mouth quirked in appreciation. “You’re an extraordinary woman, Caroline Montgomery. Which is why I can honestly say there’s no one I’d rather be shipwrecked with than you.”

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