For the thousandth time, Bettie looked up into the bright blue sky with its clear white sun… shading her eyes against the pristine glare that had chased away the false winter and started melting the flurry of snow that had so unpredictably stranded them here.

Without any clouds in the sky, there was no way she’d miss a search plane—nothing to hear except the whirr of a plane engine. But there was nothing in the sky except the susurrations of flocking birds and the odd flittering insect. The wind whispered through the branches of swaying trees, making its way to her ears extraordinarily loudly with nothing else to hear but how wood creaked.

The longer she spent out here in the wilderness, the more she heard of it. The chatter of squirrels, the vibration of insectile wings, and the babble of water over the rocky stream bed.

Under other circumstances, it would have been an idyllic paradise. As it was, it reminded Bettie quite a lot of the boring farm life she’d fled from. That was why all those guys had left Shangri-La in that movie she’d seen, right? Because heaven on earth just wasn’t heaven unless you chose it…

No, nothing good could come out of that crash… the grinding torture of metal, not one singular event, but a slow torment, each second stretching years. The same way a man might be drawn and quartered, they’d been ripped from their typical lives and buried in this existence. It took a conscious act of will for Bettie to remove the details of their sharp descent and violent crash from her thoughts. The memory of those stricken moments were too vivid, too charged with fear for her to hold them in her head with any comfort.

Bettie looked down at Izzy, his bandage-swathed head an indelible reminder of what she couldn’t forget. When the plane had hit, he’d been flung forward, his head striking hard against the floor. He’d been left unconscious, a nasty gash across his forehead. Then he’d been unconscious for the longest time…

Since then, he’d had periods of lucid wakefulness, but all the time he lapsed back into pained incoherence, moaning and gasping at the hurt he was clearly feelings. His obvious suffering drove her to seek out Danny and ask him if there were any painkillers among their medical supplies.

“Yeah, we’ve got some codeine tablets: why?”

He made no move to get them, as Bettie had expected… she’d wondered, gonna see Danny, that he’d immediately recognize the issue she’d brought to his attention and move to resolve it. But she realized how busy he had been. Probably he didn’t even know of all the issues they were facing.

“Izzy… Mr. Ashkenazy… he’s in a lot of pain. I’d like to give him something to make him more comfortable.”

“I’m sure you would,” Danny said, lounging back with his hands in his pockets and a certain smile on his face, like he was enjoying talking to Bettie. Bettie was used to that reaction, but not when the situation was so serious. “Now, how much would you like to make ‘Izzy’ more comfortable?”

“How much…? I couldn’t say. Of course I’d be willing to pay for them, but it’s not like I have any real amount of money on me. But I’m sure when Izzy’s feeling better, he’d be able to pay whatever they’re worth.”

“I don’t mean money, Bettie.”

“You don’t?”

Bettie was surprised at his familiarity; it seemed very sudden for hired help she’d only been introduced to in passing. To her, it seemed like he was taking benefit of the situation to be altogether too fresh.

“Out here, those pain pills are priceless,” Danny said with a pointed look around the crash site. “Someone might have a serious injury later on… not just a bump on the noggin… and then those pills might really be needed!”

“Or we might be picked up tomorrow and never need them! What’s the use in hypotheticals? Izzy’s in pain now. I insist you help him right now!”

“You can insist all you like. But I know I might be the one who needs those pills when the time comes. If you want them for your boyfriend, you’re going to have to be much more convincing.”

“I’m sorry, Captain Cannon… I just can’t seem to follow you at all…”

“Come on now, Bettie dear. Looking the way you do, I bet you got a real education in high school, maybe even in junior high. There’s no way you grew up not knowing what you have to offer… and what a man might want in trade,” Danny said, insinuation dripping from each fresh word in his onslaught.

Bettie’s cheeks flamed red and she burst out with a gasp. “You mean—that’s utterly inhuman of you!”

“Not hardly. I’m being very human. You want to do something for your man; I want you to do something for me. You’ve got no room to complain about the transaction: you’ll be getting plenty out of the deal, believe you me!”

“You’re unspeakably vulgar!” Bettie said, twisting away in embarrassment, not daring to look back into those arrogantly relaxed eyes that seemed so certain she would acquiesce. “I can’t believe a deviant like you ever passed about in polite society!”

“What’s the matter, doll? Don’t tell me you’ve never gotten an offer like this before?”

“Not for something a man needs to live!”

“Ah, but he’s living just fine. He’s just not enjoying it too much. I can’t say I’m having that fun a time either. Well, one look at you and anyone would know you could make both us guys happy…”

“I’m sure Izzy would rather suffer in silence than give you the satisfaction, you… you pirate!” she faltered.

“But it’s not up to Izzy, now is it? It’s up to you. Think it over, Bettie.”

“Miss Page to you!” she snapped at him. “We’re going to remain just as we would’ve been if the plane had landed on schedule. There’ll be no personal relationship at all!”

“That I don’t doubt,” he leered, looking up and down her sensual figure. “But we can still have all sorts of business with each other.”

His easy, cocky grin was maddening to Bettie. She wrenched herself away from him, her eyes set in misery she wouldn’t allow him to see, and walked back to where Izzy was in need of her comfort. Or at least, the comfort she was capable of giving him.

Danny watched her trot away from him, her shoulders squared haughtily, her head held high. He noticed how fully her buttocks filled her bright yellow pants… her thighs emerging from the brief pantlegs to taper down to dainty knees, finely curved calves, and trim ankles. Her blouse hid nothing more than her shorts did: sheer cloth held her ample breasts, sheathing them more than containing them. A skimpy bra did the real work, holding in the full fleshy bounces that otherwise would’ve exploded out with each step.

The world was not so unfair that he’d be denied such a treat. She would be back. He’d bet money on it. God, what a woman!