So if he wanted to get her visa revoked, he could do it. Not that she really cared. Her visa expired soon enough anyway. The bottom line was that she’d wasted her opportunity in Mexico, wasted it pursuing Jesus, pursuing a life that could never be, and now, whether it was sooner or later, she would inevitably be getting on a plane back to Russia.

3

Elizaveta was nodding off and tugged her head up. She was very lethargic. Keeping her eyes open took all her concentration. She wasn’t sure whether this was a consequence of remaining awake all night, or whether it was a symptom of the scorpion’s venom. She rotated her shoulder for the countless time. It had been stiff for a while now, the area around the puncture wound tingly and tender, almost as if a low-voltage current was running beneath her skin.

At least she hadn’t suffered an allergic reaction. She wasn’t drooling or twitching. She could still breath and speak normally, which hopefully meant she wasn’t going to drop dead from respiratory failure. Yet the scorpion sting still concerned her. She’d seen a picture of a young boy in a magazine once who’d been bitten on the ankle by a snake, and his entire lower leg had turned black and rotten, like something that belonged to an unwrapped mummy. And maybe, if she didn’t receive anti-venom soon, that would happen to her shoulder. Her flesh would necrotize, spreading out from the puncture, consuming her shoulder, her arm, destroying cells and tissue, rendering her limb dead and useless, so the only medical option available (if they ever got off this island) would be amputation.

Jack reached over and took her hand in his, suddenly, unexpectedly. He shifted so he was facing her, then leaned toward her. His lips pressed against hers. Their mouths parted, their tongues explored.

Elizaveta’s heart raced. In the back of her mind she wondered whether Jesus was watching them—and realized she didn’t care.

Jack liked her after all!

His hands moved off her waist, down her back, slipping beneath her shirt. They were soft and warm on her bare skin. They moved up. His fingers unclipped her bra. Then his hands were moving down again, beneath the waistband at the back of her shorts, beneath the elastic band of her panties.

He kissed the side of her neck, gently, affectionately, his lips like butterfly wings. He nibbled her earlobe. Tremors of pleasure tickled down her spine.

“Jack…”

Then his lips were on hers again, silencing her. Her breasts, loose in her bra, pressed against his chest. Her groin pressed against. He was aroused.

His hands sank deeper down her shorts. They clutched the cleft of her rear, strong now, rough, pulling her tighter against him. One curled around the inside of her thigh, moving higher, brushing her—

A noise startled them apart.