Free Love Lost and Found by Michele de Winton

over her shoulder.
    “It does in the movies, smart-ass.” So much for being nice. He’s probably secretly crapping his pants about being out
     here with a stranger with bird’s-nest hair.
    Felicity bit her tongue and kept rubbing. As she blew on the tiny collection of dried
     ferns she’d put in the grove, she suddenly smelled smoke. “Hey, it’s working. Look,
     it’s smoking!”
    “What do you know. Hollywood got it right.”
    Increasing her friction, Felicity leaned into her smoking sticks, leaning a bit too
     hard. “Ouch! Dammit.” A piece of wood broke off and embedded itself in her hand.
    “Come here.”
    Pissed with herself for getting carried away, she practically flounced over to him
     and put out her hand. Holding it up under the half moon’s light, Richard held her
     palm gently; then, before she realized what he was doing, he began to suck at the
     splinter.
    Holy flaming… “What the—?”
    “Got it.” He pulled back from her hand and took a small piece of wood from his mouth.
    “Right. Thanks. Don’t think we’ll be having a fire tonight, though. Sorry.” She tucked
     her hand in her armpit, the palm still throbbing from the heat his mouth had induced
     far more than anything the splinter had done.
    He leaned over her and took the two pieces of wood she’d thrown down in disgust.
    “If you get it going, you realize I may have to hate you.”
    “No, you won’t.”
    Maybe his technique was better, or maybe she’d been closer than she realized, but
     within minutes, a flame had caught on the dried ferns and he was adding it to the
     carefully stacked leaves and twigs she’d collected.
    “Humph.”
    “You got it going. I wouldn’t have been able to do it otherwise.”
    Don’t think I don’t know that, buddy. Watching him lean into the small fire and gently build it up was kinda hot, however,
     and strangely comforting. In fact, being out here with him as company was strangely
     comforting too. Weird. Watch yourself, lady. He’s another Brendon for sure. A shark. A VIP. And a passenger.
    But when Richard sat back next to her in their shelter, she didn’t resist as he wiggled
     closer than was strictly necessary. They sat quietly, watching the flames dance and
     eat up the wood to grow steadily bigger. Mostly sheltered from the rain by the jungle
     canopy, the fire licked patterns in the dark, leaving orange tracers in Felicity’s
     vision. With the steady thuck thuck thuck of the fat tropical raindrops on the palms above, the gentle hiss and haaa of the tide in and out on the beach, and the crackle of the fire, the world seemed
     peaceful. Easy with itself. Maybe she used to go camping. Or maybe it was just nice
     to sit with a hot male body beside her in companionable silence. Felicity stole a
     glance at Richard and started when she found him looking at her, his X-ray eyes trained
     on her.
    “If I had to be stuck on a tropical island with no food and no help, I’d choose to
     do it with you again,” Richard said, his voice a soft growl that fitted uncannily
     with the jungle setting.
    “I’m not sure I can say the same,” Felicity said in an affected drawl. Wouldn’t she?
     Why the hell not? “Think I’d probably choose someone I knew a little better.”
    She felt him tense. “Everyone has to start somewhere, don’t they? Why couldn’t we
     just start now?”
    “That’s a whole other conversation. We were talking about hypotheticals.”
    “Okay. So what if we start to get to know each other now?” He put out his hand and
     the firelight caught the glitter in his dark eyes. “I’m Rick.”
    “I thought you called yourself Richard?” she said.
    A slight pause.
    “Yes, I do. But Rick, Richard, same thing.” Another pause. “Anyway, I’m Rick. And
     I’m loaded. Apparently.”
    Felicity laughed and took his hand, bracing herself for impact. “I’m Felicity. I’m
     not going bankrupt anytime soon, but I’m no squillionaire. Definitely.”
    “See? That