Paradise (11 page)

A quick glance around told her she was alone. Eddie’s rolled sleeping bag stood on end by the tent flap. Based on the bulging backpack, his clothes must have dried. Only her clothes -- and underwear -- remained on the clothes line. Oh no! Her face flamed as the recollection of where she’d spent the night slammed into her.

Thank goodness, he didn’t know about her snuggling next to him. When she snuck away this morning, he’d been comatose. She couldn’t let on how safe, how warm, how…right it had felt sleeping with him. She’d needed security and protection from those nasty reptiles. It wasn’t her fault if the handiest barricade was drop dead gorgeous. She almost believed herself. If all she wanted was protection, why did she play with his chest? Her insides warmed to a nice mellow honey. Yeah, that chest.

She jumped up and changed, hoping he’d have the good sense to stay outside. Taking his lead, she packed her backpack and rolled up her sleeping bag and the extra one. Eddie’s stood, a sleek, perfectly rounded marshmallow. Somehow, hers looked more like rolled up mashed potatoes, nothing sleek about them.

Emerging from the tent, she squinted against the bright sunlight. His back was to her as he squatted in front of the small camp stove. Thank goodness he was wearing a shirt.

She pasted on a smile bright as the day and cautiously stepped to the stove, taking great care to stay clear of the platform’s edge.

“Good morning,” she all but sang. “I don’t suppose you’ve got a cappuccino latte in that pot.”

“Sorry.” He smiled up at her. “No lattes, just a damn good cup of coffee.” He poured and handed her a blue enamel cup. “Careful, it’s hot.”

Lord, his smile could melt granite. She blew on the coffee and waited before taking a sip. “I’m going to guess that we don’t get the morning paper delivered either, right?”

A patronizing frown replaced his blazing smile.

“Okay, okay, no more digs about civilization. I never realized how noisy a swamp is at night. I feel like I didn’t sleep a wink. How do you do it? I’d think you’d have permanent insomnia coming out here so much.”

“To tell you the truth, I never hear anything anymore. Must be immune to it. Once my head hits the floor, I’m out cold. Never had a problem. I can sleep like a baby anytime, anywhere.”

“So if something attacks me at night, you’re going to sleep through it?”

“Stop worrying. Nothing is going to attack you. Besides, if a man-eating varmint shows up, there’s always a slight chance I’ll wake up.”

She wrinkled her nose. “That will make me rest easy. What’s on the agenda today?” She gazed out over the swamp where the water glimmered like a black diamond. During one of his early lectures, Eddie had explained it was really tea colored due to decaying vegetation. She wasn’t about to stick her hand in to test it, considering what else was in that water. Off in the distance, she could see prairies of reeds stirred into rolling waves by a gentle breeze.

Eddie brightened. “Breakfast first, then we head out for the next platform. It’s quite a distance, but we should make it before the afternoon storms come in.” He handed her a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon. “Not exactly brunch at the Hilton but I promise, you won’t starve while you’re with McGraw Tours.”

She accepted the plate and turned on her cell phone.

Eddie shook his head. “You afraid the world will stop spinning if you don’t have the latest tweet and gossip?”

She made a face. “No, smarty, just picking up my messages. Hey, I can’t get any reception here. I’m supposed to hear from Excelsior about my meeting. You’re not going to tell me that this is another one of those blind areas, are you?”

“Well, let’s think this through. The swamp covers about four hundred thousand acres and ninety-nine point ninety-nine percent of the residents don’t own a cell phone since they’d either eat it or bury it. So there’s not much incentive for the mobile companies to supply service, is there?”

Rolling her eyes and muttering, “Welcome to the stone age.” She tossed the cell into her backpack.

“Actually, there are still pockets where you can get reception. Keep trying while we’re moving or when we get to different platforms. You never know when you may have a friendly satellite overhead.”

It was rather seductive being out in the middle of nowhere, out of touch with the world and totally alone with Tarzan. He could have his way with her, and there was nothing she could do about it. Better still, she could have her way with him…

They ate in companionable silence, sitting cross legged on the platform. Robbie parked well away from the platform’s edge and pretended she was at a picnic. Eddie settled across from her, eating his eggs as if he hadn’t seen food in three days. Studying him from beneath half closed lashes, she took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

After spending the night in his arms, there was no way she would miss checking out his sleeping bag from the inside out. He may say this was business, but those looks he gave her yesterday said something else entirely. One way or another, she would have him.

“You done?” He held his hand out for her plate.

“Oh, yeah.” She smiled. “I’m done.”
But not with you, Tarzan
.

They were soon packed and gliding the canoe out on the water. At first, she again tuned out Eddie’s running commentary. Who cared what kind of creepy, crawly creatures inhabited the stupid swamp? She was tempted to put on her Ipod but decided that would put her back in the bitch category. She had vowed to behave, but she swore the guy talked just to hear himself. Whatever happened to the strong, silent type? She clicked on her cell but got dead air. No friendly satellites in this neck of the swamp.

They glided beyond this and that, traveling deeper into the swamp. Eddie never passed up an opportunity to identify a particular animal, tree, bush or whatever. Occasionally, she tuned him in, usually when his voice dropped low and sultry, like his current topic meant something special.

To her surprise, he lectured not only on the environment, but also on the history of the swamp. When he spoke of the Native American tribes that had lived here, his voice became smoky and warm, sending shivers of pleasure racing down her back.

“Okefenokee is a Seminole Indian word. It means ‘Land of the Trembling Earth’.”

“You mean like the alligators are so big they make the earth shake? That’s just wonderful,” she added wryly.

“Not exactly, the Seminoles thought that the small bushes and water weeds looked like they trembled, floating on the lakes.”

“That’s rather poetic. There really aren’t that many alligators out here, are there? We haven’t seen one all morning. Not that I really want to know, but I’m wondering what kind of odds I’m up against if I fall overboard.” She stared into the oil-colored water.

“Well now, we’re probably looking at somewhere around fifteen thousand or so, but that’s throughout the entire swamp. You know, their teeth average about three inches long and their jaws can open several feet wide. But don’t worry, those stories you hear about twenty foot gators, they’re pretty much fiction. They don’t usually get more than, say eleven or twelve feet. Anything bigger and you’ve got yourself a real monster.”

“Stop. Stop. Way too much information. I prefer to remain a little ignorant about what might be having me for dinner tonight.” She laughed, but the thought of alligators the size of their canoe with teeth longer than her fingers sent shivers down her spine.

Visions of every B-movie monster she’d ever seen floated across her mind. They were followed by some incredibly realistic Spielberg creations. Cripes. These mammoth beasts lurked just below the waterline waiting for her to make a false move.

By the time they reached the second platform in mid-afternoon, she had worked her way up to a nice little panic, made worse when she caught sight of the platform. If anything, it looked smaller than the last one.

“Oh hurrah, here we are at the Ramada,” she muttered under her breath.

“Tomorrow we’ll stop at a ranger station and re-charge your cell phone. You must have worn down the battery, checking it every five minutes.”

“You mean to tell me that there’s some electricity in this God-forsaken place?”

“Well, I’m not too keen on the God-forsaken part, but yes, civilization has arrived in isolated spots in the swamp.”

As before, Eddie had camp set up quickly and trusted her to hand up their supplies. She was tempted to give his backpack another swimming lesson in the hopes of spending the evening staring at his well defined pecs, but decided that ploy was too obvious and resigned herself to a chest-less night.

Once settled, he lit the portable stove and soon, a mouth-watering scent filled the air. “Tonight’s menu,” he announced with a flourish, “will consist of stew, pita bread, coffee, and for dessert, Twinkies.”

“It smells wonderful.” She was grateful Eddie was in charge of cooking. If left to her, they’d starve without a microwave or a drive-thru window.

“I had hoped to serve it out here on the veranda, but it looks like a storm is rolling our way.” He inclined his head toward a bank of black clouds in the distance.

“Instead, I believe dinner will be served in the main dining salon. Why don’t you move the rest of the gear inside while I finish cooking?”

Within fifteen minutes, the storm raged, whipping the sides of the tent. The gear was stowed, the fire out and they were enjoying a savory meal.

“This stew is really good,” she muttered between spoonfuls. “What’s in it?”

“Nothing exciting -- just good old home cooking. Got to keep body and soul together out here in the wilderness. Be a good little camper and finish it, and you can have your Twinkie. Otherwise, no dessert for you!”

She giggled. Maybe life wasn’t so miserable. They weren’t out in the rain, Eddie hadn’t totally bored her today. In truth, a lot of what he said was interesting. Now that she thought about it, she listened to him more than she had tuned him out.

He became more animated, if that was possible, when he spoke of the early inhabitants. Maybe if she let go of her boredom, she might learn something this week. Not that she’d ever do this again. But, hey, if she had to be stuck in the middle of nowhere, Eddie McGraw was the man to be stuck with. She still tingled when she thought about sleeping next to him. She took another spoonful of stew.

“It’s a shame to waste even a mouthful of this. It is simply delicious.” She scraped her spoon on the bottom. “Would it be bad form to lick the bowl? How do you make it?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he replied, slipping back to tour guide mode. She could feel a lecture coming on. “The veggies and the meat are dehydrated and come to life in the water. The real secret is the different spices. Old family recipe. That and the camper’s revenge.”

“Camper’s revenge? What’s that?”

He looked away. Was he covering a grin? “The meat,” he muttered.

“The meat? It is chicken, isn’t it?”

“Not exactly. Most folks get a kick out of it when they figure it out.”

She looked at him, mentally scratching her head. “Camper’s revenge? Get a kick out of it? I don’t understand.”

He laughed outright. “Let’s just say there’s one fewer visitor we’ll be getting tonight.”

A sinking feeling spread through her stomach as it dawned on her and for a moment, she thought she might lose her dinner. He didn’t just feed her…?

“That’s right, darlin’. You just feasted on the mascot of your alma mater! Nothing like a little gator to spice things up.”

“You creep!” she sputtered, hurling her empty bowl at him. “That’s disgusting. My gosh, they’re an endangered species. You should be arrested!”

“Settle down. Go put your high horse back in the corral. There’s nothing disgusting about eating gator. You said yourself it tastes like chicken.” He scooted next to her, too close to chuck anything his way. She’d have to beat him with her spoon.