Rachel’s first hours of fitful sleep settled into restful dreams by mid-night. The lulling sound of the ocean drifted into her mind, soothing her over-worked conscious. Of course her perfectly seductive thoughts of Carl’s hands caressing her made Rachel forget about every fear or concern she had. That’s the beauty of dreams, though; they tend to sweep away doubts and inhibitions to reveal desires hidden deep within. Granted, Rachel would never admit to enjoying her dreams of Carl. Even if she did give it thought, she chastened herself too quickly to call the brief emotion she felt anything close to enjoyment.

This dream was an enjoyment though, so much so that Rachel didn’t even comprehend it being one. The sounds, the sand, and the sinful pleasure of Carl’s mouth along her skin all made Rachel feel awake and alive. Alive. Yes, that fit perfectly. She did seem to live again each time Carl wrapped her in his arms. She felt beautiful and adored with him. And, in her dreams, Rachel never gave a split second to think about Carl’s intentions towards her.

"Carl," she moaned in her sleep, moving her body closer to his, brushing her fingers lightly along his chest. In her dream, they were intertwined under white satin sheets. The ocean waves crashed loudly outside their windows, but she hardly noticed anything other than Carl’s silvery mane spilling around her and his kisses falling on her lips. ‘Sweet, sweet, Rachel,’ she heard him say, feeling his hair threading through her fingers, his body hovering above hers, and loving every second of it.

Back on the sand, Rachel continued to snuggle closer to Carl. The sound of his name coming from her mouth in such a lissome tone brought him from his own sleep. He lay there watching her inching closer to him with a blissful smile sweeping across her face. Carl was so wrapped up in her statement he could almost forget that he was on an island without shelter or food or anyway off. Well, in truth, he could easily forget the first two troubles - being stranded with such a creature as Rachel might not be such a bad thing after all.

At the height of her dream, as dreams generally go, Rachel traded her satin sheets in for sand. But when she opened her eyes, she found herself staring right into Carl’s deep brown ones. Since the image she dreamed seemed to be the same one she now saw, Rachel didn’t believe that she was awake. She didn’t notice the waves were louder without the windows or that the room was filled with a cooling breeze. It also wasn’t as big a surprise to her as it was to Carl, that she gently pressed her fingertip against his mouth, tracing the outline of his lips. She smiled, enjoying the astonished look dancing across Carl’s face. He hesitated but then let his hand linger along her tanned arm before getting tangled in her hair. Rachel grinned teasingly, her body closing the small gap between them with the seductive grace of a feline readying to pounce. She kissed his lips, grazing them off-handedly, enticing him. She pulled back far enough to catch his gaze, and just long enough to catch his breath, before moving in for the kill. Her mouth captured his, fully giving in to the desire of her dream, to the desire she held inside. Carl rapidly recovered from his shock, returning Rachel’s kisses as calmly as he could while trying to control his own pent up desires. He tasted her, was amazed by her. Her quiet nature had been replaced by a storm that swelled and exploded about him. Carl clung to her, lost himself to her, while Rachel simply forgot to breathe, forgot to think. Her mind short-circuited by her body’s actions.

"Amazing dream," Rachel sighed as Carl’s seductive mouth traced along the line of her chin.

"You’re not dreaming," he replied, "I am."

"What," Rachel asked, the blissful fog inside her head gradually clearing.

"I’m the one dreaming."

"You mean we’re not in…. oh, Carl…" Rachel stumbled, losing her thoughts as his mouth caressed her throat.

"Not what?"

"Not…in…Tahiti?"

"Not unless we woke up there," Carl murmured.

Perhaps it was those words, or the feel of the sand beneath her as Carl gently shifted her body, or maybe the fact that he was dangerously close to unbuttoning one too many buttons of her tattered blouse. Whatever the reason, when the harsh reality hit her, all thoughts of intimacy blasted right out of Rachel’s head.

"Carl," she shouted, nearly knocking him off balance, as she bolted upright, "we’re not in Tahiti!"

"No, we’re not," he grumbled, not trying to hide his disappointment at Rachel’s revelation.

"I was dreaming then, just now?" Rachel brushed her fingers through her hair, trying to rid herself of her clouded mind.

"No, just now I was actually kissing you," Carl smiled, somewhat regaining his humor.

"Before that. The part with the satin sheets and the windows overlooking the ocean."

"Sorry, love, just pristine sand and an unfiltered view of the sea for us," Carl said gesturing towards the ocean.

"You mean, I wasn’t…" Rachel stopped herself, her face slightly blushing.

"Rachel," Carl teasingly began to smile, "do you mean to say that you were dreaming about you and me…"

"Eating breakfast," Rachel spit out.

"Right," he chuckled, wiping a finger across his lips, "some breakfast."

"Sure was," she nodded.

"Must have left you awfully hungry."

"Not in the lest," Rachel said, her minding slipping into the wrong direction of thought. "I mean yes, very much so." Carl stifled a laugh.

"Dream food not that good?"

"Yes, no, I don’t know. Stop badgering me!" Rachel shot him an evil glare. She slapped at her disheveled clothes in an attempt to rid herself of sand the clinging to her body. The sand wasn’t as hard to get rid of as the guilt she felt beginning to creep through her. It was exact same guilt that made her lose her reason. "What?" she quipped at Carl’s laughter.

"Nothing."

"Well I’m glad you still have a sense of humor."

"I thought you liked humor," Carl replied in a somewhat wounded voice.

"Yeah, when it’s appropriate, and there is nothing humorous about being stranded on an island in the middle of nowhere with no food and no shelter!"

"That wasn’t much of a concern a moment ago." As soon as he said it, he knew he shouldn’t have.

"Oh, sure, and how do I know this whole thing wasn’t some plan of yours?" Rachel said with all the fury of a hurricane. The twinkle in Carl’s eye extinguished being instantly replaced with a fire as intense as Rachel’s fury.

"Are we on that again? Lady Rachel gets a bit too deep into her true feelings and, when confronted on them, sets on her high horse and attacks?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh come off it, Rachel. I’m beginning to think you’ve got multiple personalities or something," Carl said, one hand on his hip, the other gesturing about, his hair ruffled by the breeze. If Rachel hadn’t been so angry with him, she might have imagined throwing herself at him, instead she just wanted to slap him.

"You have no right to stand there and tell me…"

"See, there you go shouting from your throne." For once in her life, Rachel stood flabbergasted. Carl took her silence as an opportunity to continue his argument. "One moment you’re all warm and cuddly and happy and fully willing to come to me. Then the next you’re cold and complacent and tearing at me with anything you can to distance yourself from me. What is it that you are trying to accomplish, Rachel? Are you trying your hand at getting back at me for all my past deeds by driving me crazy?"

Rachel didn’t know how to reply. She was stunned by what Carl said. It was if he held a mirror to her face and forced her to look inside, and the picture he painted wasn’t one she liked. And it was one that she couldn’t easily defend.

"Right, you think on it. That’s what you do best, eh?" Carl said, walking off towards the tree line.

"Wait, where are you going?" Rachel heard herself ask.

"Don’t fret, Rachel, I haven’t hid a plane in the bush." She stood, watching him until he disappeared. Until she knew he wouldn’t see her fall apart.

Carl left in the morning, and by mid-afternoon, Rachel was steaming. Certainly the words he said made her think, but as the sun drifted closer to the end of its path with no sign of Carl, Rachel felt more anger than guilt. She admitted he did have a point, but how dare he stalk off into the middle of those woods for this long. The audacity of that man to make her furious at him and then just leave! And how dare he presume to know her personality when she didn’t even know it much herself.

"Men," Rachel huffed, kicking a small piece of driftwood a few yards to her north. Why did she always seem to find herself in hot climates with hot-tempered men? Rachel rolled her eyes as the thoughts began to produce answers she didn’t really want to think. Hunger and anger and guilt didn’t mix well with her, and if the path she’d worn in the sand was an indication, all signs pointed to long evening for Rachel.

"He’s doing this on purpose," she decided. "He’s out there lying under a nice, shady tree eating some delicious, juicy berries and laughing his head off. And he has every right too." Rachel fell to her knees on the verge of exhaustion, on the verge of tears. What Carl had said was true. She wasn’t being fair with him. But Rachel was too tired to think anymore, too tired to find a solution to this new problem. She had too many other problems.

She was stranded in the middle of the South Pacific and no one knew to come and rescue her. The children had no idea where she was. Loretta didn’t even know. That’s what being impulsive got her, a one-way ticket to a deserted island and a likely horrible death. Now it’d be a lone and miserable death, thanks to her big mouth. She’d probably never see Carl again. And why would he want to come anywhere near her and her heartless self. Maybe she was unconsciously trying to get back at him, and maybe she wasn’t. It didn’t much matter now. She could feel herself fading into the darkness, could hear the waves crashing inside her head, pounding away all her thoughts.

As her strong nature began to crack, Rachel’s mind did the only thing it could to save her. It shutdown.