Leaning against the rail, she watched as they came close to a small island. It was covered with trees and dense foliage and lay in the azure sea like a sparkling jewel. Surely this wasn’t Seagull Island? She couldn’t see any houses or signs of life.
Jezebel’s engine popped and snorted, then died, and the boat gradually came to a stop. Except for the sound of the waves slapping against the bow, there was silence.
“What’s happened?” she called, making her way toward the front of the boat as Jack loosened a huge chain allowing the anchor to roll with a splash into the water.
“Jezebel’s conked out. She does it sometimes,” he replied.
“But…but, what are we going to do? Can you mend it?”
“I’ll try but the sun’s beginning to go down and it’ll be dark soon.”
“We can’t stay out here all night. You must do something.”
~ * ~
“I’ll have a look to see if I can fix it. Why don’t you make us a cup of coffee?” he suggested, a look of innocence on his face as he took control of this outspoken young woman.
“I’m not going into that dirty kitchen. It’s disgusting.”
“It’s called a galley, and I’m sure you can overcome your sensitivities if you want me to get Jezebel going again.”
She glared at him and disappeared into the galley.
He grinned. Jezebel had chosen to break down right opposite his island as if she knew she was home. He tried to start the engine a couple of times, but she refused to cooperate and was obviously in need of some serious nurturing. Shrugging, Jack made a quick call on the ship radio connecting with his mate on the shore, Dave Shelton, and explained what had happened.
“Dave, can you ring Seagull Island and tell them the lady with the rental won’t be there tonight?” He heard Dave’s agreement before the radio gave an ominous crackle and went dead.
Well, that was that
. Jack sat on his favorite chair and propped his feet on the rail. He guessed it wouldn’t hurt for Miss High and Mighty to rough it for a night. “Good girl, Jezebel,” he mouthed, as the clatter of pots and pans resounded from below deck.
It was a good twenty minutes before he heard Lara’s feet on the stairs, and he quickly stood pretending to wipe his brow with a towel in mock exasperation. She emerged carrying a steaming mug of coffee which she pushed unceremoniously into Jack’s waiting hands.
“Any luck?”
“Nope.”
“Can you radio for help?”
“That’s conked out as well.”
“You can use my cell phone.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why not? You’re welcome to use it.” She pulled it from her pocket then gaped at it. “There’s no signal.”
“I know. We’re just out of range. You won’t be able to use your phone from now on.”
His heart softened at the stricken expression on her face and he realized she was frightened.
Of course she would be. Stuck out here with a strange man who might take advantage of her.
He took a sip of coffee. “Look, it will be dusk in about an hour. Here’s what I suggest we do.” He nodded toward the island. “I’ve got a holiday home over there. We can row over in the dinghy and stay there for the night. At least, we can have a shower and there are beds to sleep in. Then in the morning, I’ll get Jezebel started and we’ll be on our way.”
“Are there other houses on the island—other people?”
“No. But I have provisions that I keep there. Also, there will be hot water and cool drinks as soon as I get the generator going.”
He held her gaze as her green eyes probed his in the fading light. He knew she was considering whether she could trust him. He wondered if he could trust himself. She was gorgeous, her hair a blonde cloud around her heart-shaped face and her eyes huge as she studied him.
“All right,” she agreed. “There doesn’t seem much else we can do. I’ll pay you extra money for the use of your home.”
Jack didn’t answer as he threw the dregs of his coffee overboard. Did everything have to come down to money with this woman? It was getting under his skin.
He gathered some items of clothing and toiletries from the cabin and, glancing at the galley, was surprised to find it spotless with all of the dishes and pans washed and neatly stacked on the shelves.
Impressive.
He had never seen Jezebel’s galley so clean.
Lowering the dinghy into the water, he loaded one of Lara’s cases after she had checked and repacked what she needed. He then rowed them effortlessly across the short stretch of water to the shore.
Carrying her case, he led the way from the beach, through some trees then stood back. With a dramatic wave of his arm, he indicated the cottage in the clearing wondering what her reaction would be.
“There you go, Lara. Welcome to my luxurious holiday home.”
Two
She was stunned into silence as she gaped at the ramshackle house before her. Although it was a reasonable size and made of sturdy wooden planks fastened together in a haphazard way, the cottage tilted oddly and appeared about to fall over. A rickety veranda surrounded three sides, and there was even a chimney, also leaning to one side at a precarious angle. It was as if she had walked into the middle of a Grimm’s fairy tale. Did a witch live there? A tiny, overgrown garden lay in the front with the remainder of the house closed in by native shrubs and trees.
“This is my home-away-from-home. I built it with my own hands,” Jack said, a ring of pride in his voice as, lifting Lara’s case, he walked toward the entrance.
She trailed uncertainly behind him and climbed the few uneven steps to the porch as he swung the door open almost causing it to fall from its hinges.
“There you go.” Once again he flung out his arm in a dramatic gesture as she peeped cautiously inside the dimly lit room. The last of the sun’s rays emphasized the layers of dust as it slanted across the fireplace and sparsely furnished living room. At the end of the room was a dining table and chairs and beyond that, a small kitchen with a heavy iron stove and antiquated fridge.
Without stopping, he led the way along a short, narrow passage and into a bedroom containing a double bed and mattress. He placed Lara’s case on the bed. She flinched as a large and very startled spider scurried across the mattress and disappeared.
“You can have this room, seeing you’re the paying guest.” He turned to her with a dazzling smile, his teeth brilliant white in his tanned face. “There’s a smaller bedroom across the passage, which I can use.” With an innocent expression he added, “It’s quite big inside, isn’t it?”
At last, she found her voice. “I can’t stay here. It’s filthy. You’re crazy to suggest it.” She knew her face had to express a look of horror as she placed a finger into the dust on the tiny dressing table.
“Oh, I know it’s not up to the standard of your posh rental and it needs a bit of a clean but that won’t take you long. Just flap a duster around, or whatever you women do, and it’ll look beautiful, I’m sure. While you’re doing that, I’ll start up the generator so we can have some light and use the fridge. Then I’ll catch us a couple of fish for supper.”
He turned away but Lara caught his arm. “Just a minute. Do you really expect me to clean the mess in here?” she asked, aware as she was speaking of the hard, rippling muscles flexing beneath her hand.
He faced her with a polite, but puzzled look. “Well, it’s not usually this messy, but I haven’t been here for a while,” he explained in a matter-of-fact kind of way. “But, it comes up well with a bit of spit and polish.”
She watched as he wiped a loving hand over the dusty headboard. Was this man mad or what? She hesitated realizing she had really got herself into a jam. After her big, brave statement to her mother about wanting time alone without being protected by detectives and companions, the first thing she had done was to trap herself on an island with a mad man, or even worse, a rapist and murderer.
But she wasn’t going to show she was afraid
—
that was the worst thing she could do. She decided attack was the best form of defense. Lifting her chin, she put on what she considered to be her most haughty and fierce expression.
“Now listen, Jack. I do not intend to clean your dirty house or do any of the other chores you may like to allocate to me. I shall sleep on the beach tonight, and if you as much as come within ten yards of me then I’ll…I’ll kill you.” She held up a bunched fist in the most aggressive pose she could remember from her self-defense classes.
“Does this mean you won’t want any supper?”
She snorted in a very unlady like fashion. This guy
was
crazy.
“Of course, if I can’t get Jezebel started, we could be here tomorrow night as well, and even the next night, so I could do with your help. Just to cook and clean up, you know, while I work on the boat. Not much to ask really,” he continued.
Lara stiffened as she saw his mouth twitch with amusement. “The people at the resort will be expecting me and when I don’t turn up, they will send out a search party.” Her stance was even more defiant.
“No. They won’t.”
“What do you mean? Of course they will.”
“When Jezebel broke down, I radioed a mate and he’s going to contact the resort and explain what’s happened.”
“What? But you said the radio had broken.” For the first time a shiver of fear ran through her.
“It has. It broke just after I’d sent the message but it’s okay
—
they know you’re safe with me.”
~ * ~
He touched her arm in what was meant to be a comforting gesture but she jumped back. I’ve taken this joke too far, he thought.
Idiot
. He decided to move into damage control—quickly.
“You don’t need to be nervous. I won’t hurt you.”
“How do I know that?”
“Look, you stay in the house tonight and I’ll sleep on Jezebel. I promise you will be safe.”
“No. How do I know you won’t get that stupid boat going and drive away leaving me shipwrecked here…forever?”
Jack, once again, contained his amusement. “You
sail
a boat, not drive,” he automatically corrected her. “And you haven’t been shipwrecked.”
She shoved a fist into his chest and his heart pounded as he controlled the desire to hold and caress that small hand.
“It’s a ship and as far as I can see, it’s a wreck.” Her voice rose. “And I am
still
sleeping on the beach.”
“It could get cold in the night. You had better take a couple of blankets with you.” He reached into a drawer and pulled out two rugs making the mistake of patting them which caused a cloud of dust to billow and envelop them both.
“Oh,” Lara exploded with exasperation as she made her way to the door, case in hand. “You are impossible.”
“Lara?” He opened another of the drawers. “There’s an old lavatory at the back of the house. If you have to go, you will need this.” He tossed a toilet roll through the air, which she managed to catch with her free hand.
“And if you want a shower, there’s one outside. It’s a bit primitive, I’m afraid.” He tried to sound apologetic. “Only cold water.”
The front door slammed behind her, once again almost falling from its hinges.