Juliet

When I come to, my head hurts a lot less than it did, but I feel so hot.

Something’s on top of me. Something heavy and thick. I don’t know what it is, but it feels… furry.

I blink a couple of times and focus.

It’s a blanket.

Actually, it looks more like a dead animal.

I shoot up, but I’m immediately bounced back down again to the bed I’m on. Pain shoots through my arms.

“Aww … shit …” I hiss, biting my lip.

I try to pull my hands toward my face to check, but I can’t.

They’re tied to the makeshift bed.

“What the …?” I try to jerk free, but it’s no use.

He actually tied me up?

I try to sit up and check my surroundings, but it’s damn hard when your arms are tied to the bed in a way that makes it almost impossible to move. With some flexible and weird moves, I finally manage to get my legs off the bed and my hands awkwardly inched to the side.

I look around to see where I am.

I was right; it is a bed, made completely of wood and fur.

Are these real dead animals underneath me?

I cringe at the thought and immediately nudge the blanket away by moving out from underneath it.

What the hell is this place?

Everything in this hut is made of wood. The door, a bench, a table, even the thing that could pass for a kitchen, but not really.

Does he live here? Did he make a house all by himself?

It’s tiny but not too tiny. Like a home you’d rent for vacation.

Only this isn’t a vacation … not for me.

I shiver. I wish I’d never got on that helicopter. I should’ve said no. Should’ve turned back.

But here I am. It’s too late for wishing. No one can turn back time and change what happened. I made a choice … and now I have to live with it.

But I still can’t stop wondering if I’ll ever get off this island. I can’t stay here. People must be worried sick about me. They’re probably wondering what happened to the helicopter.

I’m alive, and they don’t even know it. I have to do everything in my power to let my family know.

But what about Ollie? And Pete?

I make a face and swallow away the lump in my throat.

I don’t even know what happened to them. If they made it out alive or not.

I should go search for them.

I try to get up, but the rope around my wrists is a stark reminder of my position.

He did this.

That bear-man.

The same one who put me in the pit now keeps me in his makeshift hut as if I’m some kind of … pet.

I’m not a plaything. I don’t get why he thinks this is okay. I’m not an animal; I’m a human being, and he has no right to lock me up like this.

My eyes scan the room, looking for something I can use to free myself, but all I’ve got is a used unlit candle standing beside me on the wooden nightstand. Who knows what material he made the wax with. I’m not going to touch it—not that it’d be of good use, but still.

Guess I’ll have to bite my way through.

I lower my head to my wrists and start chewing on the rope, trying to ignore the sharp pain in my gums as the fibers poke me. Fleeing right now is of bigger importance than the pain can ever be.

A sudden bang makes my eyes flash up in the direction of the sound.

The door slammed open.

And in steps a man …

No mud.

No dirt.

Just abs. And hair. All hair … everywhere … on his broad legs … his hard abs … his solid pecs. Dark brown messy hair and a short, bristly beard.

Holy shit.

Did he wash off the mud?

Maybe I was really out of it … because he certainly doesn’t look like a monster anymore.

He looks like a buffed up alpha male with protruding veins and all.

He stares at me with a raised brow, and his eyes settle on my lips.

I’ve been caught red-handed.

I immediately stop chewing the ropes and smile like an idiot.

I don’t want to give him any reason to put me in that pit again.

But no matter how hard I try, I can’t stop staring at his body.

And that the only thing covering his junk is a banana leaf.

Well … you don’t see that every day.

* * *

Lock

I place my spear in the holder and fold my arms, glaring at her.

She was trying something again …

Biting her way through the ropes, eh?

Won’t work. I know how to tie a knot.

Guess she has yet to find out how determined I am to keep her right where she is.

If she thinks she can escape, I’ve got bad news for her. There is no escape.

None.

I open the wooden box in the corner of the hut and throw in the meat jerky that I made. It’ll make for a nice dinner this evening. I grab the flask of water and take a drink. Some of it spills, but I don’t mind. The cold water on my body makes me less overheated.

But then I notice her eyes, and I immediately stop drinking.

Is she thirsty?

I don’t know whether she’s gawking at the flask … or at me.

She looks thirsty, all right. I never asked her if she wanted a drink back when she was still in the pit. And from the looks of her tongue darting out to wet her lips, she is clearly looking for a sip.

So I march over to her and hold out the flask. She inches back a little, glaring at me as if she doesn’t trust me. As if I’d poison her or something.

If I wanted to kill her, I would’ve done it already.

So I grab her hands and push the flask into her palm. “Drink.”

She greedily accepts it and glugs down the water as if there’s no more to drink. Even though I’ve saved a whole barrel full of rainwater. Plus, I’m working on running a pipe all the way from the mountain to my hut, but it isn’t ready yet. In the meantime, she’ll have to make do with what I give her.

And I intend to give her everything I have.

The moment I sniffed her, I was convinced. Damn, she smelled so nice.

Though I have to admit, it’s very different on this island with another person.

I never had to share it before, and it’s proving to be quite difficult to just have to deal with her, let alone take care of her. But I will manage. I’ve been taking care of myself for all these years. She just doesn’t know this, and I can see it in her eyes.

The mistrust.

I don’t blame her. I put her in a pit, but it was for a good reason. I don’t like being attacked out of the blue, and she was volatile after I rescued her. It was as if she wasn’t really there. I don’t know how to explain it to her, so I won’t. I don’t want to frighten her any more than I already have.

If we’re going to be on this island together, we’d better start trusting each other.

And where else to start than with a good meal?

She must be hungry after all that running and fighting. She hasn’t eaten since she came here. Maybe she didn’t like the jerky because it had been on the ground. But I’m more than willing to give it to her straight out of the box.

When she hands me the flask back, I place it on the table and go back to the box, fishing out a few pieces of jerky. The moment she sees me holding them, her face contorts. I still attempt to give it to her. With a smile too.

Still, she shakes her head at the meat.

What is wrong with this woman?

Why won’t she eat?

I even gave her a smile and everything. What else does she want from me?

Does she not want to live at all or what?

I push it against her lips and say, “Eat.”

“No …” she mumbles, leaning back as far as possible.

I growl, “Eat.”

Her eyes dart up to mine, so I gaze at her with equal ferocity. I haven’t met a lot of women, most of them were just as scared of me as she was, but none of them were this fiery. This one’s gutsy. I like it.

What I don’t like is how she keeps refusing to eat. She has to eat something. Otherwise, she’ll die.

“Eat,” I say again, losing my patience.

I hold it up to her mouth and wait until she opens it. She takes the tiniest of tiny nibbles and chews on it with a face that reminds me of the ones I saw before I was on this island … back when I still thought I could adapt to their world.

My face darkens as I watch her chew with reluctance until she swallows and coughs immediately after.

I nod and hold out the meat again.

“No, no more, please,” she says, her voice croaky.

I grunt and place the jerky on the nightstand beside the bed. Frustrated, I turn around and leave the hut, slamming the door shut behind me.

I wish I understood women, but I don’t. I don’t fucking understand any person, at all.

That’s why I live on my own, and having her here only reminds me of that fact.

Maybe I should’ve gotten rid of her, after all. It would’ve saved me the trouble of looking out for her, feeding her, giving her my bed.

Goddammit.

I grasp the ax from the box outside and begin chopping wood. It’s the only thing I can do when my mind is going in circles. I need to get this shit off my mind and focus on work. Things I can actually fix, instead of … women.

Why do females have to be so complicated?

I gave her food, and she’s not even thankful.

She won’t eat, she didn’t thank me for rescuing her, and she keeps running away.

I sigh and ram the ax into the block, letting out all my anger on the wood.

I refuse to give up. I made my choice, and I’m sticking with it. I will just have to tame the girl.

One way or another, she will eat, and she will adjust. Maybe in time, she’ll learn to appreciate the island … and maybe even start cooking for me.

Yeah, that’d be nice.

Her, me, a spit-roast on the beach, and a fur blanket to cuddle on.

My mouth waters at the thought.

Maybe this girl destroyed some of the jungle, but it doesn’t have to all be bad.

She could be my woman.

That’d definitely be nice.