Page 13 of Redemption Island

“Stop fighting me,” he demanded and squeezed the nape of my neck. “It’s fever medicine. Swallow it. And you need to try to drink something. Anything.” There was a pause as his voice cracked. “Please.”

I stilled, and my eyes shifted to him. His head bowed as he shook it side to side. His eyes were closed as if in frustration. I’d made a mess of myself, and the moisture seeped through my shirt. Lifting a weak hand, I tried to swipe at the spill on my chest with my knuckles. His head shot up, and he looked directly at my eyes.

“I’ll get you another clean shirt.” Releasing my neck, he scrambled off the pallet that held a mattress and an open sleeping bag. The sheet was at my feet and I looked down at myself. The motion made me dizzy, and I lay back. A down pillow caught my head, and I nuzzled into the comfort.

“I’m going to change you again,” he stated, reaching for the hem of my shirt and beginning to lift the material. My hand swatted at his.

“I promise not to look, but you already showed me everything,” he teased. I smacked at him again.

“I can do it,” I choked.

“I’m trying to help.” His voice rose, and I stopped struggling, letting my fingers come to rest on his wrist. It wasn’t sensual, but it felt intimate as if my body shifted from fight to flight, and I held onto him to hold me steady, tethering me to the ground. We sat for the longest sixty seconds of my life with my hand clutching his wrist and his eyes staring into mine before I released him and sat up to dress myself. He had the decency to shift his body, and I slipped off the wet tee. Redressing took all my strength, and I lay on his pillow once more.

“You need to drink something. Just a little bit.” I nodded, allowing him to hold up my head and swallowing a few sips of cold water. I pulled back too quickly, and water trickled down my chin to my neck. He took the shirt I’d just worn and wiped at my jaw, caressing my collarbone.

“Try to sleep again. I’ll be right here.”

That’s what I was afraid of, but I fell into a deep sleep.

+ +

With the pressure of a hand on my hip, I woke with a start, sitting bolt upright. Twisting, I found Tack next to me on the mattress. His fingers clutched my hip with the movement of me sitting. I looked down at myself to see I wore a shirt I didn’t recognize. Two sizes too big, it slid off my shoulder.

“Hey,” his sleepy voice croaked, sounding strangely seductive. He cleared his throat and teased, “You wake.” I stared down at him a moment, his expression casual as he lay with his rumpled hair spread on the pillow. When I turned away from him, he sat up, running a hand through his unruly locks. It had grown long in a month. His green eyes glowed despite the darkness. His facial hair looked jagged, hanging in chopped patches. My eyes stopped on his mouth.

“I should go,” I said, but he raised a hand to stop me.

“Don’t even start with that again.” I blinked in confusion. “You’ve been muttering for me to let you die, and take you home, and everything in between. You aren’t going anywhere.”

My tongue felt heavy in my mouth, and I swallowed the bad taste.

“I’m so thirsty.”

To my surprise, his face brightened, a full smile curling his lips. My brow pinched in question, but he ignored me and hopped over my outstretched legs. He returned to the bed quickly with a cup of fresh water.

“Drink slowly. We don’t want you getting sick again.” His smile lessened a little, but the curl to his lips remained teasing.

“You feeling better, baby?” His hand brushed over my head, and between the touch and the term of endearment, I pulled back.

“Sorry,” he muttered. I raised the cup to my lips and took few more slow sips. The water was tepid but refreshing. My mouth still felt like a cat settled in it.

“Think you could eat something?”

I shook my head, flexing my legs, stiff from disuse but no longer aching from the fever. He removed the cup from my hand and crawled back over me. I looked toward the opening of the tent where darkness was falling behind the flap.

“Don’t even think about it,” he mumbled, lying down beside me, his hand resting on the base of my spine. “Lay back down.”

On autopilot, I did as he said, twisting my body to face away from him. My back toward him, his hand returned to my hip.

“You were pretty sick. Are you sure that snake didn’t get you?”

I shook my head as an answer.

“That was one of the scariest moments of my life,” he mumbled, his breath brushing the back of my neck. My hair was clumped in a loose loop and tied with a band, but I didn’t remember wrapping it. “But seeing you on the jungle floor, surrounded by…” His voice faded and I heard him swallow. “I thought that was it.” His tone lowered. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“Why were you there?” My own voice croaked from disuse.

“I felt bad about how things went when you came to the beach. I wanted to apologize for my attitude.” We both seemed to suck in a breath at the admission. The words tumbled off his lips, but I felt him stiffen behind me as if he surprised himself with what he said.