Castaways Read Online Free PDF Page A

rolled away from her back and got to his feet. When she glanced up he was looking down at her and his package was still hard and obvious. He offered her a quick wink and a grin as he extended his hand. “Ready for breakfast, love?”
    She nodded and let him help her up. She was a little unsteady, suddenly lightheaded from the movement. Den steadied her by gripping her elbow.
    “Are you all right?” Concern filled his vivid blue eyes.
    “Just need a moment.” She let the men help her. When her head settled she gave a deep breath.
    “I’m okay now. I just need a moment’s privacy.” She pulled away from them and walked out of the tent.
     
    Outside the morning sun spilled over the water, glistening across its surface. The water was incredibly blue and the sand startling white along the shore and beneath the blue water. She slipped into the small jungle of palms and other greenery behind the tent and relieved herself before returning to their campsite.
    It was still cool, and Sirena’s nipples stayed tighter than tight as gooseflesh pebbled her skin. For a moment she watched the men as they moved to the campfire and began to build it up again, which they’d obviously taken care to keep up with during the night while she was sleeping. They were each wearing jeans with no shirts and no shoes. They looked good enough to eat. Den’s black hair curled at his nape, hair that she wanted to slide her fingers through, and Mike—she’d never found bald men so sexy before in her life. That thought came easily to her, too.
    The air smelled salty and fresh and the palm trees rippled in an early breeze that lifted Sirena’s long auburn hair from her shoulders. The movement of the trees caught her attention and she took a moment to study her surroundings, her temporary—hopefully temporary—home. They were in a cove, sheltered by palm trees, sea-worn boulders and sand, sand, sand. Beyond the shoreline palm trees grew thick with what looked like red hibiscus blooms and tropical bushes.
    To her surprise and delight she saw that there were coconut trees within the palms. Hopefully this island had banana trees, too. Were there banana trees in the Bahamas?
    The men had built a decent shelter just within the protection of the palms. It was made of oilskin and thick planks of wood. Ironically enough, the name Storm Maiden was painted in royal blue along one of the long pieces of the boat holding up the shelter.
    To the side of the small shelter were ice chests, suitcases and other items that had washed up on the shore from the wrecked yacht. They hadn’t had a chance to look through all the suitcases and chests just yet to see what treasures might be found.
    More debris littered the shoreline, including pieces of wood that must have belonged to the yacht. A blue and white flag that lay crumpled upon the sand looked familiar to her—she could almost see it ripping from the mast of a boat, but then the image vanished.
    She frowned. What was she doing on a boat, and why couldn’t she remember anything about herself? Do I really want to remember?
    The men immediately set to gathering wood for the rescue bonfire. They also worked on making a huge HELP sign out of palms, branches and pieces of the boat to catch the attention of any plane flying overhead.
    Sirena’s stomach growled and she found she was too hungry to wait much longer to eat. It was making her lightheaded.
    “I’ll get breakfast.” Sirena moved toward the other ice chests and trunks that she knew were filled with food. They would have to use whatever was still fresh—if there was anything—before it spoiled.
    The first chest was obviously an expensive one with an airtight lid. It was filled with glass bottles of water and cans of cola, and even a couple of bottles of champagne. Water was more important than the cola, but any kind of liquid was better than none. And the champagne—maybe they’d have something to celebrate.
    The next chest held a loaf of soggy bread,