I Will Survive

Dear Reader,

I don’t know anybody who hasn’t had this fantasy at one time or another. To be marooned on a tropical island with the man of your dreams—heaven!

Add to that fact that I’m a big fan of survival and wildlife shows, especially the ones where the presenters are so cheerful and unruffled as they ramble on about poisonous plants or marauding herds, while pointing out the volcano behind them that’s due to erupt at any moment or the piranha-infested river they’re planning to kayak, just as soon as they’ve splinted the leg of this cute little snarling puma.

Writing this book was a dream because I got to create my own heart-melting presenter and also to wonder how I might fare in a survival situation—though I freely admit I didn’t take my research as far as eating bugs!

So sit back and enjoy this feast of sand, sea and s…Well, I’ll say no more. Slap on that sunscreen and enjoy the adventures of the indomitable Jessie Banks!

Best wishes,

Samantha Connolly

Jessie’s eyes widened as Nick unbuttoned his shirt. Had she been completely wrong about him? About this show? Was she expected to have sex with him after all? On camera?

“Here,” said Nick, handing her his shirt. “Put this on. It’ll give your things time to dry.”

Jessie was mortified by her assumptions and touched by his consideration. She took the shirt and slipped it on.

“I just wanted to tell you that you don’t have to worry about bunking together tonight…. I mean, uh, that’s not something you, uh…”

So much for her ego. Jessie said awkwardly, “Uh, oh, you neither, of course.”

“Let’s get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.”

Nick seemed devoid of any awkwardness as he lay down on the cot and curved his arm around her. She snuggled against him and could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest. Meanwhile, her heart was thudding like a piston.

Suddenly Jessie decided that she didn’t care if the others were less than ten feet away. She was in bed with Nick Garrett—gorgeous, kind, hugely popular TV host—and she was going to make the most of it.

I Will Survive

Samantha Connolly

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Born in Ireland, Samantha Connolly has lived all over the globe. Her family (mom, dad, younger sister) moved to Australia when she was four. Six years later the family returned to their native Ireland, where her parents opened their own bookshop. And there Samantha’s love affair with books began. Growing up surrounded by books, she dreamed of writing one of her own someday. After completing university, she lived in London for several years, working in a number of places, including an art gallery. And she earned her private pilot’s license (now sadly expired due to lack of flying hours, but she plans on retaking the exams one day!). Samantha, too, has now returned to Ireland and gotten serious about her writing. She divides her time between putting pen to paper and working in her family’s bookstore. Her hobbies include horseback riding, camping and, of course, reading.

Books by Samantha Connolly

HARLEQUIN DUETS

86—IF THE SHOE FITS

104—A REAL WORK OF ART

This one’s for Kathryn Lye Editor extraordinaire Whose persistently high standards both exasperate me beyond measure and make me write better than I knew I could

For all the many times you’ve made me want to throw my laptop out the window My deepest thanks

Contents

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

Epilogue

1

JESSIE BANKS STEPPED out of the tiny bathroom and looked crossly at the other occupant of the small cabin.

“This is ridiculous,” she said. “I won’t wear this.”

Lois ran her eyes appraisingly over Jessie. “But you look fantastic. It’s perfect on you.” She moved out of the way to allow Jessie to look at herself in the full-length mirror. Jessie spread her arms.

“Oh, you’re right,” she said. “What was I thinking? This is indeed the perfect outfit for ten days on a desert island.”

The yacht crested a wave and Jessie teetered on her five-inch heels.

“That’s the spirit,” said Lois, deliberately ignoring Jessie’s sarcasm.

Jessie sighed and pointed at the cargo pants and checked shirt that were strewn across the bunk bed.

“Is the joke over now?” she said. “Can I put my own clothes back on?”

Lois raised one perfectly plucked eyebrow and her gaze turned steely. “Look, a shipwreck is an unexpected thing, right? When it happens you don’t really have the luxury of picking and choosing what you’re going to wear.”

“I’m aware of that,” retorted Jessie. “But even if I can’t wear my own clothes is it really necessary for me to be dressed like a…well, a lady of the night?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” scoffed Lois. “That’s a designer dress.”

Jessie pulled up one of the spaghetti straps that had slipped off her shoulder. “It may well be a designer dress,” she said in despair, “but it still feels like it’ll fall apart before we even get to the island. I don’t see how it’ll last the whole ten days.”

“So that can be one of your projects on the island, to fashion yourself some new clothes.”

“Let me guess,” said Jessie. “Coconut shells and a grass skirt?”

“Whatever you like,” said Lois impassively.

Jessie turned back to the mirror again and gazed at her implausible attire. The red dress, which stopped a good four inches above her knees, was made of some kind of stretchy, spangled material that hugged every curve of her figure. It was a figure that was usually hidden by her demure tailored suits at work or played down in jeans and loose-fitting chambray shirts at home but even in those innocuous clothes it could still only be described as statuesque. And with the strappy shoes bringing her height to almost six feet she was barely able to stand up in the cramped cabin.

She turned back to Lois, polite but determined.

“I’m sorry but this is not going to work. I’m not wearing it and you can’t make me.”

Lois riffled through the sheaf of papers she was holding and thrust a few pages towards Jessie.

“Actually, we can.”

“What’s this?”

“It’s a complete copy of the rules, terms and conditions of the competition, which, in entering, you agreed to abide by.”

Jessie flipped through the pages, squinting at the dense print. “I never saw these.”

Lois shrugged. “Contestants were invited to send away for the full rules if they so wished. Have a look at Section Two, Part Four.”

Jessie read aloud. “The attire and accoutrements of the participants, aka competition finalists, shall be determined at the sole and total discretion of Quest Broadcasting.”

Jessie looked up and waved the rules at Lois. “I don’t suppose there’s any other little surprises in here that I should know about, is there? Any little clauses saying I have to sleep with Nick Garrett by any chance?”

Lois let out a fake laugh. “What you want to get up to on the island is entirely up to you.” She shrugged. “Of course something like that wouldn’t hurt the ratings.”

Jessie gave her a narrow-eyed look which didn’t appear to faze the producer in the slightest. “So,” she said brightly to Jessie. “I’m afraid you do it our way or not at all.”

Jessie looked back at the mirror, struggling with her decision.

She had long been an avid fan of Survive This!—the TV show where the charismatic presenter and survival expert, Nick Garrett, spent each week in a different situation. Whether it was wilderness or rainforest, desert or arctic, Nick showed the viewers how to find water, create fire, build shelters and subsist on the indigenous wildlife. And as if it wasn’t enough that he had all that skill and expertise, the guy was also charming and funny and just an all-round, total hunk.

In contrast, Jessie’s practical survival knowledge was nil. There wasn’t much call for a small-town librarian to go trapping wild rabbits, building rafts or knowing the correct smoke signals to attract search-and-rescue teams. That didn’t stop her from reading every book she could find on the subject or harboring a secret certainty that, should an emergency situation arise, she’d be able to acquit herself admirably.

When Nick had announced that they were putting together a special show whereby members of the public would be selected to enact a survival situation on a tropical island she’d realized immediately that she had no chance of being picked. But she’d amused herself by entering the competition anyway, sending off the requested essay, photograph, and biographical details. She’d nearly gone into cardiac arrest when Nick had reeled off her name on the program, along with the two other people that she would be competing against for the grand prize of a million dollars.

A flight to L.A., then into the offices of Quest Broadcasting and, after another flight to Tahiti, she had boarded the yacht that was currently speeding her towards an isolated, uninhabited island.

She couldn’t back out, not after coming this far. To spend a fortnight with Nick Garrett on a tropical island, even without the incentive of the prize money, was an unmissable opportunity. Both for the sake of an unforgettable adventure and also to see if Nick really was as funny and captivating as he always seemed on the show.

Okay, the fact that there’d be a camera following them around was a little unnerving but, up to this moment, hadn’t proved a sufficient deterrent.

Because, of course, she hadn’t imagined herself appearing on the nation’s television screens dressed quite like this.

She gave Lois one last beseeching look. “Are you sure you don’t have anything else I could wear?”

“That’s it,” said Lois impassively. “Take it or leave it.”

Jessie laughed weakly. “It’s going to look pretty strange wearing my backpack over this.”

“It sure is,” agreed Lois. “Which is why you won’t be. Attire and accoutrements,” she reminded Jessie. She pointed to a small purse on the bed. “You can take that evening bag. It matches your dress.”

“But…” Jessie faltered. “You mean I’ll have no equipment? No supplies? Nothing?”

Lois folded her arms and gave a sigh to emphasize how very patient she was being. “Look, I don’t see how I can make this any clearer. You know the premise. You’re on a cruise ship and it goes down in the middle of the ocean. You, Nick and the others are washed ashore on a desert island. Lucky for you Nick is a survival expert. You guys, however, are just civilians. I mean, let’s face it, anyone could manage if they were washed up with a bag full of survival gear, couldn’t they?”

Jessie felt herself wavering. She had to admit that Lois was making a good point. “I guess you’re right,” she said at last.

“Great,” said Lois. “Well, let’s get this show on the road. Or, should I say, into the water. You ready to go?”

“I just have to use the bathroom.”

Lois nodded. “Okay, then come straight up on deck.” She made for the door.

Jessie kept the smile on her face until Lois left the cabin but then she quickly replaced it with a look of determination.

She grabbed the sparkly purse and shuffled through the contents.

Perfume, lipstick, a compact and condoms.

Jessie rolled her eyes.

Keeping one ear cocked for the sounds of anyone approaching she rummaged in her backpack and pulled out some of the things that she’d prided herself on packing. Penknife, a mini compass, sunscreen; one by one she squashed them into the bag. A tiny sewing kit, she’d definitely be needing that. She opened the perfume bottle and, without so much as a blink, poured fifty dollars worth of scent down the sink. She rinsed the bottle and refilled it with something much more useful. She rolled up the lipstick and snapped it off at the base. Ten waterproof matches fit perfectly inside the tube. She put the perfume bottle, the compact and the lipstick into the bag and held the condoms for a moment, vacillating, before she eventually tucked them back in, too, reasoning that they didn’t really take up any room.

JESSIE HAD TO SHADE her eyes as she climbed up the narrow stairwell to the deck of the yacht. The sun was dazzling and the sky and sea seemed to be competing to show off how blue they could be. Jessie gasped as she spotted, looming on the horizon, a breathtakingly beautiful island. Green forest flowed down to the golden beaches and birds wheeled overhead.

There were about twenty people on deck and Jessie stood awkwardly, holding onto the handrail, trying to ignore the sidelong glances and startled whispers that her appearance had provoked.

Lois beckoned her over to the side of the yacht. After a pause Jessie let go of the handrail and tottered over on the spiky heels. She fell forward to grab the side-rail as she reached Lois.

“Good grief,” she complained. “These shoes are hazardous.” She lowered her voice and spoke plaintively to Lois. “I feel like an idiot.”

Lois waved her hand dismissively at the people milling around. “Oh, they’re just crew and staff, forget about them. This is who I want you to meet. Jessie, say hello to Kenny, our on-site cameraman. Kenny will be following you and the others with the handheld.”

Jessie smiled and looked with yearning at his baseball hat, sloppy jeans and checked shirt.

“Hey, that’s a great dress, man,” he said, greeting her with the kind of complex hand signal that she had only ever seen MTV presenters use.

“Er, yes,” she said. “Thanks…Kenny.”

Lois waved her hand towards the sea. “So, what do you think of your island?”

Jessie grinned unabashedly. “It’s amazing. I can’t believe this is happening. I don’t know if what I’m feeling is excitement or terror. This is it, it’s real.”

“You bet it is,” said Lois. She held out a pair of binoculars. “Here, take a look, the others are waiting for you.”

Jessie took the binoculars and scanned the shoreline. She zeroed in on the three people standing on the beach and she breathed in as she recognized Nick Garrett.

It was really him! At the first glimpse of that unmistakable tanned face and dark blond hair Jessie felt her heart grab before it kick-started again with a thud. Nick’s arms were folded and he was nodding as he listened to the man next to him, his dark brows dipping into a concentrated frown, shadowing his eyes. Jessie realized she was holding her breath and she let it out, wondering what she was going to say when she actually met him. Just say hello, she told herself, tell him how much you like the show but be normal. Please don’t start giggling or fawning or anything embarrassing like that.

She lowered the binoculars as she realized that Lois was talking to her.

“It’s a pity we had that trouble with your flight but don’t worry about it. The others have already had one night on the island but we won’t be officially starting the competition until tomorrow anyway. I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to get settled in. Now, what we’re going to do is drop you into the water about a quarter mile from shore. Your bio said you could swim?”

Jessie nodded.

“Anyway, Kenny and I will be alongside in a motorboat so you won’t be in any danger, we just want to get the shot of you, literally, washing up on shore.”

Jessie nodded again, too nervous to speak.

THE WATER WAS WARM and the sun glinted sparkles into her eyes as she was lowered into the sea. She had looped the evening bag over her shoulder and across her chest and it bobbed alongside her.

She treaded water for a moment, feeling her muscles loosen and then struck out for shore. At least her dress and shoes didn’t weigh her down, which was about the only good thing that could be said for them.

She heard the thrum of the motorboat and paused, treading water again as it came up beside her.

“How are you doing?” said Lois, yelling to be heard above the sound of the idling motor.

“Fine,” called back Jessie.

“Okay, we’re right here if you need help. You look great.”

Jessie looked at Kenny whose face was hidden behind the camera and he gave her a thumbs-up. She grinned and turned back towards the island. She struck out resolutely, getting closer to the dream island with each pull of her long arms. Her mind was flitting about wildly. She wondered what the other contestants would be like and what sort of challenges they were all going to face. Would they be at each other’s throats at the end of the ten days or would they have made friends for life? Was there any hope at all that she might even win the money?

She was about thirty meters from shore when she felt the strap of her evening bag slip off her shoulder and down over her arm. She grabbed wildly for it but it glided through her fingers and down around her waist. She could feel the bag knocking against her ankle and she knew she’d have to catch it before it had a chance to slip away entirely.

She stopped, kicking rhythmically to keep her head above water while her hands swept around her, clutching for either the bag or the strap. She glanced towards the shore and she saw Nick come down towards the shoreline. She waved reassuringly and dipped her hands under again to search for the bag.

She couldn’t feel anything so she took a deep breath and ducked her head under the surface, searching for the glittering prize. The strap was caught on her shoe and she struggled with it, trying to unhook it. She came up, treading water while she caught her breath. The sun flashed off the water, dazzling her and she ducked under again, clutching at her foot. The strap had wound around her ankle so it was almost a minute before she got it off and she burst her head to the surface again, gasping for breath. She shook the water from her face, her heart thumping with triumph and she gulped in lungfuls of air to pump her up for the last stretch.

Suddenly she was yanked forcefully through the water as a huge arm was thrust around her neck.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” came Nick’s voice in her ear. Spumes of water sprayed on either side of her face as he tugged her along in a lifesaving grip.

Jessie spluttered as she caught a mouthful of water and she tugged at his muscular forearm, trying to break free. She opened her mouth to tell him she was okay but another splash caught her, setting off a fit of coughing. Nick swam like a shark, dragging her body along as if she were nothing more than a rag doll and eventually she just gave up trying to escape because his grasp was unbreakable. He was obviously intent on saving her so she just clung grimly to his arm as his strong legs kicked between hers. She caught a glimpse of the boat speeding along beside them and she tried to signal to Lois and Kenny that she was all right but they didn’t appear to notice and Nick just seemed to take her flailing arms as a sign of further distress because he tightened his grip and swam all the harder.

She was coughing again by the time they reached the shore and a sudden wave of dizziness overcame her as he laid her down on the sand. She closed her eyes against the glare of the sun and concentrated on getting her breath back. She became aware of Nick’s hand on her throat, checking her pulse.

“She’s okay,” he called as the motorboat pulled up onto the sand.

Jessie gasped as he lay his head down across her chest. She could feel water from his hair dripping onto her bare skin. “Good breath sounds,” he went on. “No water in there. I think she’s just fainted.”

“Excuse me,” said Jessie archly, “I haven’t fainted and would you mind getting your head off my chest.”

Nick’s head rose sharply and Jessie struggled to sit up. “I haven’t fainted because I wasn’t even in trouble in the first place. I was just…” She broke off, searching the sand around her. “Oh, no, my bag, where is it?”

“What?” said Nick in bemusement.

Jessie clambered to her feet, unceremoniously using Nick’s shoulder as a prop. “My bag,” she said insistently. “I don’t believe this, you lost it.”

“Are you okay?” he said.

She looked at him. “Am I okay?” she said derisively. “Of course I’m okay. For your information tough guy, I was doing just fine until you came along.” She pointed out towards the ocean. “I was just treading water and trying to catch my bag when you came storming up and almost killed me. What on earth were you thinking?”

He stood up, eyes flashing. “What was I thinking? Oh, I don’t know, maybe when I see someone struggling in the water I just assume that they could use some help. Why did you wave at me if you weren’t in trouble?”

“I was just waving hello!” Jessie exclaimed, her embarrassment making her defensive.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said angrily. “You stop swimming to wave hello and then you sink underwater a couple of times just for good measure? What is that, your idea of a joke?”

She was about to fire back another retort when she spotted a familiar red shape that was rolling in the small waves nearby.

“My bag,” she cried gleefully, stumbling towards it.

“Oh, great,” said Nick, following her. “You found your bag. I’m so glad. We wouldn’t want you to go through the next ten days without your makeup.”

She made a face at him and bent over to pick up the bag. Unfortunately she caught it by the bottom and released the contents in a shower as she lifted it. She fell to her knees and grabbed at the sewing kit as it tried to float away on a wave and she dug the penknife out of the wet sand before thrusting them back into her purse.

Nick’s voice came from above her. “Don’t forget these.”

She turned her head and her gaze traveled up his long legs to see the condoms that he was holding out to her.

She snatched them out of his hand, not even looking at him and shoved them crossly into the bag.

Nick turned on his heel and stomped away from her. “Lois, you and I need to talk, right now,” he said.

“Be right there, Nick,” said Lois. She turned to Kenny, her eyes shining with excitement. “Did you get all that?”

Another thumbs-up from Kenny. Lois clenched her fists triumphantly. “This is great television,” she exclaimed, trotting after Nick.

Jessie put her head in her hands. Welcome to paradise.

JESSIE UNDID THE STRAPS of her shoes and took them off before she stood up. Okay, that was a start. There were strands of hair sticking to her face and she wiped them back while she looked properly for the first time at the two people who were going to be her companions for the next ten days, as well as her competition.

“Hi, there,” said the woman. “Is that your own dress?”

Jessie looked down. “Gosh, no. There’s no way I would have worn this.”

“It’s beautiful,” said the woman. “I wish they’d given it to me.” She put out her hand. “I’m Cindi Todd. That’s Cindi with an i.”

Jessie shook hands with her, frowning slightly. “Isn’t Cindy usually spelt with an i?”

The two women looked at each other.

“I mean, with an i at the end,” said Cindi.

“Oh, okay.” Jessie nodded. She laughed. “So it’s really Cindi with two is.”

Cindi’s smile tightened. “I’ve found that people usually know what I mean.”

Jessie raised her eyebrows at the condescending tone and there was an awkward pause before Cindi spoke again, pointing down at her own attire. “I think I’m supposed to be one of the ship’s crew. A chambermaid or cabin-maid or whatever they call it.” She was wearing a fitted black uniform with a white apron. It had long sleeves, Jessie noticed jealously.