More Than Paradise by Jennifer Fulton Read Free Book Online Page B

happen. I just know it.”
    Wanting to keep her best friend’s feet on the ground, Charlotte said, “It’s early days. You’ll have a chance to get to know her better while I’m in New Guinea.”
    “I feel like I’ve known her my whole life already,” Tamsin gushed.
    Charlotte thought Oh, God , but she couldn’t be entirely dismissive.
    She’d seen how they hit it off. There was something quite uncanny about the way Rowena related to Tamsin. She seemed to sense she was dealing with someone who was emotionally fragile, and the instant connection between them was obvious.
    “Just take it slowly,” Charlotte cautioned.
    “I will,” Tamsin said. “But I’m not going to run away just because things haven’t worked out for me before. I made bad choices. It doesn’t mean I can’t make a good one.”
    Charlotte had thought about that comment a few times over the hours since, and she had to admire Tamsin’s persistence. She would never be the kind of person Charlotte was, able to compartmentalize her emotions and abide by self-imposed rules. She would always fall prey to her romantic dreams. Maybe the odds were Þ nally in her favor and she would Þ nd what she was looking for. Charlotte hoped so.
    As for herself, she didn’t need what Tamsin needed. She’d gotten over all that and her life was exactly the way she wanted it to be. Free of drama. Entirely within her own control. And, most importantly, professionally satisfying.
    Smearing beads of moisture back into her hairline, she scanned
    • 44 •

    MORE THAN PARADISE
    her surroundings. A couple of security guards loitered nearby. They carried bows and arrows instead of guns. A team of sweat-soaked men shoved push-mowers back and forth along the wide belts of lawn that separated the runways, Þ ghting a losing battle to keep the grass down.
    In this hot wet climate, vegetation grew like it was on crack.
    About a hundred yards away, a burned-out DC10 was parked in front of a hanger. Its body was stripped of parts and under each shelled-out wing locals had set up makeshift stalls selling drinks and souvenirs.
    Their children swarmed toward the droopy passengers, hawking coconut water and fruits Charlotte recognized only because she was a botanist.
    She purchased a small bag of guavas for Þ ve dollars, which, according to the weathered man standing next to her, was “daylight bloody robbery.” In a broad Australian twang, he added, “Welcome to the shithole of planet Earth. Whatever they’re paying you to come here, it’s not enough.”
    Charlotte said with level dignity, “I’m with an international research expedition to the Foja Mountains.”
    Dubiously, the Aussie looked her up and down. “You don’t say.”
    Charlotte swatted at an insect trying to land on her mouth. She had a feeling anything she shared about the signiÞ cance of the expedition and what it meant to her would be lost on this dog-eared traveler, so she asked, “What about you—what brings you here?”
    “It was this or ten years in an Aussie jail.” At her faint start, he added, “I’m not one of the bad guys. I just made a dumb mistake.”
    Charlotte didn’t ask.
    “The Fojas,” he mused. “Yeah. I heard about that. The lost world, right?”
    “Yes. A completely undisturbed ecosystem. No human impact at all. We’re being dropped in by helicopter.”
    “Good luck. How long are you planning on staying up there?”
    “Two months.”
    He gave a low, expressive whistle. “You know that TV show Survivor ?”
    Charlotte usually refrained from assaulting her intellect with the dross that passed for television entertainment, but she didn’t want to sound condescending, so she said, “Yes, of course.”
    “They were out here scouting a location a couple of years back, but they Þ gured no one would survive long enough to Þ nish the show.”
    • 45 •

    JENNIFER FULTON
    Charlotte guessed he was trying to be funny and offered a smile.
    “I gather it’s very difÞ cult