Max leaned back against one of the palm trees with one knee bent, as relaxed as Caro had ever seen him. She tried to recall him back in England, perfectly attired and stiffly polite in some society ballroom, and failed.
“This is certainly the strangest Christmas day I’ve ever spent,” she agreed.
A gust of wind fanned the fire and ruffled her hair and she sighed, grateful for the breeze, but Max frowned over at the horizon.
“I don’t like the look of those clouds. We’re in for another storm.”
She followed the direction of his gaze. It was almost dark, but she could just make out a bank of purple clouds rolling toward them. As if to confirm his theory a jagged bolt of lightning flickered along the underside of the dark mass, briefly illuminating it.
“One. Two.” Caro began counting aloud to estimate how far away the storm was. Father had always taught her that one second equaled one mile, if one counted from the flash of lightning to the corresponding sound of thunder.
“Eleven. Twelve—” An ominous rumble boomed across the sea, as if a brewer was rolling heavy barrels of ale across a flagstone floor above them.
Max rose to his feet, filled with new purpose. “I’ll secure the roof of the shelter. If the wind gets up, we don’t want it blowing away. Or falling in on us.”
“Would it be better to go inland? What if the waves come up this far?”
“I think we should be safe here. We’re above the highest tide line, after all. And the reef should protect us from the worst of the waves. I’d rather stay here where it’s more open than risk getting hit in the head by a falling branch or stray coconut.”
The light was fading fast, and Max hurried to collect more strips of vine to secure the roof. Caro gathered extra firewood and stacked it under a pile of palm leaves to stay dry, then built up the fire into an impressive blaze.
She wondered if those on the other island would be able to see the glow of it over the headland, and prayed that they would be safe from the oncoming storm, too.
The flashes of lightning were almost constant now, and definitely closer. The thunder reverberated through her chest, but by the time the first raindrops spattered onto the fire they were as well-prepared as they could be.
Caro ducked under the leaves and shouted at Max over the rising wind.
“Come inside. You’ll get drenched!”
He heeded her command, and she shuffled sideways to give him room. The open front of the shelter was high enough for them to sit up, and she pulled her knees to her chest as the rain began to come down in earnest.
Beside her, Max crossed his legs, tailor fashion, and the two of them watched as the fire leaped and sizzled in protest and the glowing red embers swirled in the wind. The surface of the lagoon danced with the downpour.
“Do you think the fire will withstand the storm?” She had to lean closer to Max to be heard over the steady drumming of the rain.
“I hope so,” he answered, his lips close to her ear. “But I wouldn’t bank on it.”
A flash of lightning split the sky directly overhead followed by an ear-splitting crackle of thunder, and Caro let out an instinctive shriek that turned into a peal of laughter at her own foolishness.
“I’ve always loved storms,” she shouted. “They make me feel funny—sort of tingly and excited and nervous at the same time. I can feel it, right here.” She pressed her palm to her chest.
Max’s answering amusement was clearly illuminated by the flickering red firelight. “Me, too. The power of nature is amazing, isn’t it?”
His laughing gaze dropped to her hand, still pressed between her breasts, and Caro’s pulse leapt in sudden awareness of their proximity. His shoulder was mere inches from her own, his knee pressing her leg, and the curtain of rain seemed to enclose them in their own private world.
“Just think,” his lips lifted in a wicked smile, “Somewhere, out there, far from prying eyes, the coco de mer trees are uprooting themselves and making mad, passionate love.”
His eyes flicked back to hers and held, and Caro’s heart gave another jolt. Quick as lightning, her body was hot with desire, tingling with anticipation.
She licked her suddenly-dry lips. “I can’t say I blame them. I mean, what else is there to do in weather like this?”
His gaze sharpened with a look that had her stomach clenching with excitement.
“Nothing,” he murmured. “There’s really nothing else to do.”
“Except sleep,” she said, perversely determined to tease him. “We could always try to sleep.”
His dark brows rose. “Do you want to sleep Caro?”
