“Oh, princess, I’m perfectly aware I’m not your father,” he growls, voice shaking. His eyes scan me up and down, scorching into my skin as though he remembers exactly what I look like beneath this dress.
With a sound of disgust, I push past him and run back to camp, toiletry bag clutched tight against my aching chest. I hope the image of me floating naked in that water haunts him for the rest of his days. I hope he can’t close his eyes without seeing me on the back of his eyelids, burned in like a brand.
It would serve him right, the jerk.
Chapter Twelve
F L Y E R
“I can’t stand it,” Ian wheezes.
Dropping everything, I fly to his side. “What? Are you in pain? Where does it hurt?”
“No…” His eyes are crinkled at the corners — not with agony, but amusement. “I just can’t stand. Literally.”
I groan. “Your jokes are getting worse.”
“You try thinking up unique leg-related humor all day long, it’s not as easy as it looks.”
“Alternatively, you could stop altogether.”
“Nah, not a chance.” His dimples appear. “Have to make you smile somehow. Why so glum today, sourpuss?”
“I’m not glum.”
“Yesterday you disappeared for hours, today you’ve been moping around like a pre-teen at Hot Topic whose debit card got declined.”
“Harsh!”
He shrugs. “Calling it like I see it.”
“Well, you must be going blind because I’m perfectly fine.”
“Uh huh.”
“Let’s talk about someone with real problems. You, for instance.” I eye his gaunt face. “You’re not eating.”
“Menu here isn’t to my taste. Lots of seafood and, gotta be straight with you, I’ve always been more of a steak guy.”
“Uh huh. I’ll get right on that,” I say wryly. “In the meantime, how about you try some fruit? Those weird melon things on trees with the red flowers are actually pretty good. I don’t know what they’re called, but they taste like a cross between a mango and a papaya…”
“No,” he cuts me off. “I’m not hungry.”
I chew my lip worriedly. “You really should try to keep your strength up. The fruit…”
“Violet. Unless it’s Kobe-beef-flavored fruit, I’m not interested.”
“Fine.” My hands lift in submission. “Is there anything else I can get you?”
“A margarita would be nice.”
“I realize it’s a struggle for you to take any of this seriously, but I need to know about your condition.”
“My condition? Hmm, let’s see. Single. Sagittarius. Stunningly handsome. Recently lost about thirty pounds, all in the lower extremity region. Enjoy long hops on the beach at sunset, followed by fluorescent-lit dinners at the International House of Pancakes.”
I choke down a laugh.
“Oh, come on,” he drawls. “Not even a chuckle for IHOP? That was a good one.”
I lose the battle for composure and giggle helplessly. “Fine! If I admit it was funny, will you agree to tell me how you’re actually feeling?”
“Yes.”
“Ha. Ha. Ha. You are oh so hilarious,” I deadpan. “They should give you your own late night show. That guy Jimmy has nothing on you.”
He grins. “Thanks Violet. That means so much to me, especially knowing you were blackmailed into saying every word.”
“Quit stalling. How are you feeling?”
“Never better.”
I stare him down.
He sighs deeply, then finally relents. “Lightheaded. Dizzy. The leg pain is intense, and the burns itch so bad, I’d scratch them raw if I knew it wouldn’t do more nerve damage. I’m tired all the time. Physically, emotionally. Tired of sitting under this damn raft tent, tired of not being able to move, tired of pissing into coconut shells and handing them to you to take care of for me. I am a grown ass man, weak as a fucking kitten, withering away in hundred-degree heat. Worse, I’m a burden on you. Just being here, I make things doubly hard, because you have to take care of me in addition to yourself. You’ve got enough to deal with already without me bogging you down.”
“Ian… Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this way? I had no idea.” My stomach flips at the thought of him being in so much pain. I reach out, grab his hand, and give it a tight squeeze. “You have to know, it’s not true. You’re not a burden. You’re just about the only good thing on this entire island.”
His eyes drift over my shoulder to Beck, where he sits on the crest of the beach attempting to lash together a fishing trap using sticks and vines. I’m not sure whether he’s within earshot. I don’t care, at the moment — I’m too focused on Ian.
His lips twitch when he takes in the sight of my expression. “That look on your face right now? That’s exactly why I prefer to joke and laugh. Talking about this stuff isn’t nearly as fun.”
“Maybe. But your health is more important.” I place the back of my hand against his forehead to check his temperature. “You may be running a low-grade fever. You feel a little warm.”
“We’re in the tropics.”
“Thank you, Captain Obvious.” I roll my eyes and reach for his bandages. “Now, let’s have a look at the leg.”
“Not right now,” he says, pulling away. “I’ve just gotten myself into a comfortable position.”
“Fine. But we’re changing those dressings before you fall asleep tonight. It’s been two days and in this heat, the longer they stay on, the greater the risk of an infection.”
He nods, a spark of fear flaming in his eyes. For all his wisecracks, I’m sure he’s horrified by everything that’s happened to him… and terrified by the prospect of everything that still could.
“Hey.” I wait until his gaze meets mine. “I don’t think I can manage a margarita, but would you settle for some fresh coconut milk? It’s all the rage here on the island. All the cool kids are drinking it.”
The fear fades from his expression and his dimples return. “All the cool kids, huh?”
I nod gravely.
“Well, then I guess you’d better fetch me one of those coconuts. I have a reputation to maintain, woman!”
Ten minutes later, I find myself balanced precariously on a stack of logs, praying they don’t give out beneath me. I stretch up onto my tiptoes as my fingers dig into the trunk of the palm tree, grappling for purchase against the smooth, ringed bark.
“You are going to fall on your face, and I am going to laugh at you,” Ian calls up to me from his pallet. “There must be a better way to do this, Violet.”
I ignore him, attention focused upward. Come hell or high water, today is the day I will finally get one of those damn coconuts.
“I mean it,” Ian drawls. “Don’t expect sympathy from me when you break your ass.”
I gasp, faux-offended. “After all I’ve done to nurse you back to health…”
“Just looking out for you.”
“I appreciate the concern, but I think I can manage to climb a stupid tree.”
Hell, I’d climb to the moon if it meant getting Ian to drink something with nutritional value.
I lift my right foot and plant it flat against a small wood knot. “If I can leverage myself up, maybe I can make a flying leap and grab one…”
“Who do you think you are, Nastia Liukin?”
My nose wrinkles in confusion. “Who?”