“Step over here.”

She sidled to where Linda was standing and her breath caught. The pool sparkled bright blue and beyond that a white sand beach dotted with hammock-draped palms gave way to the deep turquoise of the white-capped ocean. “It’s like something off of a postcard.”

“My camera’s gone,” Linda said quietly. “I could have taken a shot of you in paradise.”

“I’d ruin the scenery.” Marissa turned toward the path that led to their bungalow.

“Not in a silver lamé dress. Or, better yet, a teal green swimsuit that shows off the curves and your eyes.”

Marissa could feel herself blushing for the remainder of the short walk, all the way until she unlatched the door to their room. She wasn’t used to anyone looking at her with such approval. She felt . . . what was the right word?

Something unfamiliar, but welcome.

Attractive. She felt attractive.

“This is cozy,” Linda observed as she set her pack down on the nearest of two narrow beds.

“It’s larger than the cabins on the ship, plus there’s solid ground outside.” She was willing to believe that Linda was perhaps a natural flirt. Some women were. It was certainly fun to be on the receiving end. Alone in a romantic bungalow, though, she’d have to take everything Linda implied with a big grain of salt. It was fun and that was all.

“I like the solid ground thing at the moment.” Linda opened one of the French doors and quiet sounds Marissa hadn’t noticed before—distant surf, low voices, sleepy insects and birds—flowed into the room.

“I’ll just use the facilities.” Taking her backpack with her, Marissa slipped into the bathroom.

For a second after she switched on the light, she thought someone else was in the bathroom with her. Startled, she drew back, then realized she was facing a full-length mirror. She didn’t know what she had expected to see but it wasn’t a grimy, sweat-crusted, tangle-haired woman with a double chin, a button-up shirt that gapped enough to show her bra and pants that cut a round belly in two.

Frozen in place, she stared. There was no slinky sexpot, no paradise beauty.

The woman in the mirror couldn’t be her. Nothing she felt deep inside showed.

When did this happen to me?

She didn’t want to look at that reflection but couldn’t look away either. She studied the only familiar thing, the wide blue eyes.

From someplace painful and raw she thought, as Linda had said, that the story of their shipwreck would be worth telling for years. But everyone else would have the amusing anecdote about the fat chick who couldn’t climb the cliff by herself. They wouldn’t mention the sexy Ginger Linda had planted in Marissa’s head nor the attractive woman she’d felt like just a few minutes ago. For the rest of their lives she’d be the helpless fat chick.

I don’t want to be a helpless fat chick for the rest of my life.