Castaways by Cheyenne McCray Page A

now, farther every day. Today they made it up to her waist, and she had a vivacious, triumphant smile as she looked up at him.
    “I’m doing it,” she said, squeezing his hand tighter.
    He raised his wet hand and rubbed his thumb over her cheek. “I’m proud of you, Sirena.” He brushed his lips over hers. A larger wave struck them, splashing against their faces and he felt Sirena grow stiff beside him.
    But then she looked up into his eyes and smiled again. “I’m all right when I’m with you.” In the few days after their first ménage, Den hadn’t wanted to be away from Sirena. He didn’t want to let her out of his sight—and she didn’t seem to mind. They spent time with Mike, but Den knew he had growing feelings for Sirena, and she for him. The three had a bond, too, and indulged in sexual play. But Den would take Sirena off for their own private enjoyment, too, and the closeness was undeniable.
    Den could feel it—he was certain she cared for him as much as he cared for her. And no matter how short their time had been on this island, he knew he was falling in love with this woman. He loved her passion, her smile, the way she felt in his arms, the way she trusted him.
    But what would happen when she finally remembered who she was? Would she regret what had happened between the two of them? Between the three of them? Would he lose her trust because he had allowed their relationship to go as far as it had? She enjoyed it now, he had no doubt, and she had been on the yacht going to The Playground, but would that make a difference?
    Den led Sirena deeper into the water, until it was up to their necks. The water was calm and despite the glimpses of momentary fear he caught in her eyes, she was doing great.
    “Now I’m going to teach you to float on your back,” he said at the same time he scooped her up in his embrace, one hand under her knees. They were both naked, as they always were when swimming, and he loved the feel of her skin against his.
    Sirena yelped when he swept her up and clung to him, but he spoke soothing words and she calmed and allowed him to tip her so that the back of her head was in the water.
    They’d been on the island over a week now, and their supplies were running out, and all of them were growing worried. Once they saw what appeared to be a boat on the distant horizon, and they lit the bonfire…but nothing. The boat disappeared from sight and the three were left feeling helpless, but Den refused to feel hopeless.
    Gently, Den coaxed Sirena to relax, helping her to straighten out and let the water support her weight.
    “Don’t let me go,” she said, her body stiffening again.
    He kissed her forehead, and she tasted salty beneath his lips, of ocean and woman. “I won’t. Not until you’re ready.”
    “I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready,” she said, but she already trusted him, and he knew she would be floating on her back in no time. First step was getting her comfortable in the water and accustomed to its buoyancy and learning to float, and then he’d work on teaching her basic survival techniques.
    A buzzing sound caught his attention, and instinctively he snatched Sirena up in his arms.
    “Plane!” he shouted to Mike who was on the beach, manning the fire, ready to set the bonfire aflame when needed.
    Sirena clung to him as he pushed against the water to get them to the shore, and then they both ran up the sand. The bonfire was already flaming and smoking by the time they reached Mike.
    She hurried to snatch up her shirt and started jumping up and down and waving as the plane came closer. Den jerked on his jeans and joined her, waving his arms, hoping against hope that the plane would spot them.
    The little red commuter plane rumbled overhead, and for a moment, Den’s heart stopped. It looked like the plane was going to pass on by. But then it began to make a huge arc and circled the island. Not once, but twice. It tipped its wings, as if in acknowledgment, and then