Somewhere In The South Pacific
Blue skies, lapping waves. For what seemed like a long time, Melanie lay in the warm sand. She didn't want to think about where she was and she certainly didn't want to move. The heaviness across her waist made her look down. A tanned and muscular arm was draped across her, the strong fingers of a male hand resting lightly against her lower abdomen.
Was she on vacation? She had no earthly idea where she was or who she was with.
The arm didn't look like her boyfriend's -- no, wait -- her ex-boyfriend Mitch's arm. It was too strong, too tanned, too well defined.
She moved her head and it began to pound.
Panic set in.
She looked around her and all she could see was sandy beach, brilliant aquamarine sea, and azure blue skies.
"Oh my God... Where am I? What the hell have I done?" She whispered.
She turned her head to look at the rest of the man attached to the arm around her waist.
"Jesus Christ!" She had no recollection, no recognition of the beautiful stranger. He looked as exhausted as she felt. His clothes were ragged, and so were hers. She pulled his arm from her, scrambling to get up, but her head was too woozy and she landed back on her ass. She was wearing only her bra and her skirt was torn away, leaving most of her thighs exposed.
The ridiculously handsome stranger opened his eyes, looked at her intently for a moment, and then sprang to life.
"Melanie!", he shouted. His voice was full of concern.
"How do you know my name?" She said.
"What do you mean? We were on the flight together--"
"What flight? Who are you?"
"It's me, Alex your..." His voice trailed off.
"My what?" A feeling of dread came over her, that name… it meant something…