William

1

“I said, remove your jacket, now.”

I bite my lip as I look at the seriousness in the airport security man’s eyes, his stony face unmoving as I take a deep breath and slip my purse off my shoulder, stepping forward into the frisking area for what must be way more invasive a pat-down than they’d have back home in the States.

Slowly, I slip my slim-fitting blazer off my bare shoulders, exposing my skin to everyone around me as I feel color come to my cheeks. This is a regular inspection, I tell myself, just a security precaution. The look on the customs agent’s face, though, tells me that he’s going to enjoy his work quite a lot today.

And something deep inside me, something I know I should be quelching with all my might, tells me that I’m going to enjoy it too. That only adds to the embarrassment I feel, and my jaw sets, but as the guard sizes me up, devouring me with his eyes, I can’t deny the fact that something primal within me wants to take advantage of the fact that I’m miles and miles from everything I know and every inhibition I’ve built up over my life.

Still, I hold my head high, my light brown hair held back in a loose ponytail, and I fight the urge to brush the stray tendrils of hair out of my eyes. It’s such a ditzy gesture, and I don’t want to tease the agent any more than I already am, but it’s too annoying to ignore, so I eventually give in, glaring at him with my blue eyes.

I’m almost as tall as him, though, and I can tell that’s making him self-conscious. I don’t usually wear much makeup, but today, I’ve got some dark red lipstick on, and I use it to give him a somewhat smug smile with my full lips as he approaches me.

“Arms up,” he says, and I obey, raising my long limbs up so he can pass his metal detector up and down me. Then he puts it away, and it’s his turn to smile smugly, flexing his hands as he steps behind me.

It’ll be over in a little bit, Harper, I tell myself, chanting it over and over in my head. At least this isn’t a busy airport.

That doesn’t help me when I feel his hands on my shoulders, though. There’s no way I can hide anything on bare skin! I fight the urge to grimace, but I still hear a low chuckle from the guy as his rough hands slip down my sides, feeling the soft fabric of my blouse as it hugs my narrow frame. I was the tall, awkward, gangly girl when I was in high school, but now well into adulthood, I’ve blossomed into... well, a slightly less awkward, still tall girl.

His groping hands head down to my hips, and I brace myself for when he gives them a soft squeeze through my jeans, spending some time around the area of my pockets. I know he wants to stick his hands a little further up front to my crotch—even in grad school, I can’t get away from that. And this guy doesn’t seem to mind that there are at least three other security guards watching, so I shift uncomfortably.

Still, he feels the soft give on my ass, and I feel my face burning, glancing up at the other guards for some semblance of help, but everyone looking at me just has a smug smile on their faces. None of them speak English as a first language, and I’m pretty sure the one feeling me up on his way back to my shoulders speaks the best English out of the lot of them.

But fuck, why does that make me feel so warm inside?

I signed up for this. I should have known I was in over my head this far away from another country.

“She’s clear,” the agent finally says, giving my ass a pinch as he scoots me along through the checkpoint, and I give a yelp, glaring daggers at him as I collect my things and move along. None of the other guards seem to have much sympathy, but that’s to be expected.

Not that the thought of a tall, strong islander copping a feel didn’t cross my mind on the way over here. The flight was long and arduous, and there wasn’t much else to occupy my mind than the thought that maybe, just maybe, I’ll get some action while I’m on this remote, tropical island.

And those thoughts kind of stuck with me, in kind of a big way. I thank everything there was no way for that agent to realize just how wet I was by the time I landed and reached customs.

God, I’m going to get myself into trouble here.

2

I keep a quick pace as I head down the long hallway towards the gate exit, and I can’t help but notice how many eyes are turning my way from the locals. I get it, it’s not that common that a traveler passes through this place, but something about the exposure keeps the heat in me burning, and I curse my body as I walk.

But this is the only island the university would pay for me to visit for research, so here I am, thousands of miles away from America and feeling more vulnerable than I have since I was a little child.

I make my way down to baggage claim, and within a few minutes, I’m clumsily dragging what feels like fifty pounds of suitcases out the airport sliding doors. Naturally, just as I’m leaving the building and turn to head to the strip of road where my ride to the research station is supposed to be waiting for me, one of my suitcases starts to tip over, and as I frantically reach to stop it, I feel a crack under me as one of my heels breaks, and I topple to the ground with a yelp, along with the rest of my luggage.

“Ow...” I groan as I get to my knees, rubbing my ass as my cheeks burn bright red, praying nobody saw that. As if on cue, I notice a shadow over me, and my heart sinks as I realize my prayers have been answered, though not the way I was hoping for.

“You look like you need a hand, miss,” comes a deep, husky voice, and I blink in surprise at the faint British accent I hear in it, and I look up.

And I never want to look anywhere else again.

Towering over me is a man with gorgeous, short brown hair, brown eyes hiding a glint of the tropical sun in them like freshly brewed coffee just at the right time in the morning, and his smile, while reassuring and comforting in a way I can’t even process, holds a hint of that smugness in it of someone who knows he’s come across a woman who does not have her shit together.

“Oh, um, hello!” is the first thing to spill out of my lip, and internally, I hear myself groaning Harper, you complete ditz.

“Hello to you too,” he says, his husky tone deep yet almost condescending, yet in a strang

ely fatherly way. Without waiting for permission, he reaches down, taking my hand in one of his and placing the other on the small of my back as he helps me to my feet, and before I can even get my bearings, he brushes one of those annoying tendrils of hair out of my eyes, and I feel my traitorous body blushing.

Why couldn’t this have been the guy who patted me down? my instincts ask, but my better sense fights them back.

Standing up, I can tell just how much taller he is than me—the guy’s got a head on me, easily, maybe more. He’s wearing a button-up that’s breezy and thin enough to be suitable for the climate. Now, I have a good eye for nice clothing. Maybe it’s a result of my being a starving student most of my life and pining over nice clothes in Pinterest. But I can tell that his white Egyptian cotton shirt does not come cheap. It’s rolled up enough to show off forearms that look thick enough to carry me in one of them.

After a moment, I realize I’m staring, and my face blushes even harder as his smile just grows. “Quite a lot of help, I’ll bet.”

“I’m so sorry,” I say with a laugh, covering half my face with a hand and averting my eyes, “I just got here, and it’s been a hell of a trip, and-” I only just now notice that there’s a car parked on the side of the road, one of the doors open. It’s a sleek red sedan, definitely a newer model, not the kind I was expecting to see out here, but I’m not going to question it, mostly because it’s the only car I see parked near the airport sidewalk, and my brain puts two and two together. “Are...you my ride? To the research station? I’m from the university.”

He peers at me a moment, putting a hand into a pocket of his pants and looking me up and down. There’s something about him that reminds me of some of my friends’ dads I had a crush on in high school, yet he’s so much more imposing, his body so striking and out of place yet comforting on this unfamiliar island.