Marooned with a Millionaire (3 page)

“You're going to have to because I'm not letting you go. If you fall in, then I'll have to go get you. And babe, I'm thinking that would be a bad idea. Rule one, stay on the boat.”

That brought her around in his arms. “I told you, I'm not a babe.”

“And I'm not Ahab.”

“It's either that or Captain Hook since we seem to be following a fairy-tale theme.”

“Both my hands are intact.” Definitely so because they'd somehow made their way to her hips.

“I guess you're right about that, so Ahab it is.”

He couldn't hold back his smile. “Okay, Dorothy. Are you feeling better now, or do you still need to be sick?”

She drew in a deep breath, thrusting her breasts forward against his chest. Man, he didn't need that.

“I'm not nauseated anymore, only hungry,” she said. “I just need something to eat.”

Jack needed to kiss her, badly. But he sure couldn't do that at the moment, or anytime for that matter. He took a much-needed step back but kept his hands clasped loosely around her waist should
she decide to pass out. “Look, I have some Oriental noodles with vegetables. Will that do?”

She grinned. “Perfectly.”

How little it seemed to take to please her. Jack wondered if that held true in all endeavors, including lovemaking. Slapping the thoughts from his brain, he released her completely. “Let's get you something to eat.”

“And Hank,” she added.

Even though it was the last thing he wanted to do, Jack laughed. For the first time in months.

 

The man kept staring at her. Oh, he'd tried not to be too obvious about it, but four times now Lizzie had caught Jack watching her mouth.

Egad! She probably had a Chinese noodle hanging off her chin. Her fingertips immediately zipped to the area, but thankfully she found no strings. Just in case, she grabbed a napkin and swiped at her mouth to remove any latent residue.

He glanced up from his bowl again and this time his eyes homed in on her breasts. Lizzie immediately looked down at her chest, expecting to find a nice brown blob smeared on the borrowed T-shirt. She always seemed to miss her mouth, very odd since it was a more than adequate size.

Nope, no blob. Just cotton. Fairly transparent cotton that didn't come close to hiding the fact she was still a bit chilled.

Sheesh. Is that what he'd noticed? Well, if so, she'd just have to cover the evidence.

Sitting back in the chair, Lizzie folded her arms
across her breasts. “That hit the spot. Not exactly my favorite, but I feel much better now.”

“Good,” he muttered, dropping his gaze to his food.

“I'm really not that opposed to meat unless it's beef. I love cows. My grandfather named his herd after the grandchildren. Then one day I learned we were having my cousin, Bernie, for Sunday dinner. Literally. Well, not literally. The cow named Bernie. That was the end of that. No more beef for me.”

Jack murmured something Lizzie couldn't quite discern. Obviously he wasn't too willing to join in the conversation. She wouldn't let that stop her. “There are lots of replacements for beef, though. Take ground turkey, for instance. Have you had any?”

He glanced up for a moment then resumed pushing the last of his disgusting stew around in his bowl. “Not in a while.”

“Oh, so you have had some?”

“Of course.”

“Then I assume you'd agree that it's not so different from having a regular hamburger.”

His gaze snapped up. “Huh?”

“You know, a big juicy hamburger with all the fixings. Yum, yum.”

He frowned. “That's a weird comparison.”

“Why? When considering ground turkey versus ground beef, I'd say it was an accurate comparison.”

“Turkey? You were asking me about turkey?”

“Yes, what did you think I was…?” Reality dawned through Lizzie's own confusion. This was so
rich. “Wait a minute, you thought I was asking you if you've had any….” She couldn't finish her sentence, or contain her laughter.

Jack didn't laugh nor did he look at all amused. “I obviously misunderstood you.”

“Obviously. Did you really think I would ask you about your sex life?”

“My mistake.”

She leaned forward and propped a cheek on her palm. “Well, do you have one?”

He looked away but not before she saw discomfort in his eyes. “I don't want to go there.”

Oh, but Lizzie wanted to. She wanted to know more about him since they would be sharing their time for a while, and whatever else they might decide to share. She was suddenly very warm. “I imagine a man like you has certain needs to fulfill. And I imagine there are plenty of women at your beck and call to take care of those needs. You know, a woman in every port.”

After pushing his bowl to one side, he clasped his hands in front of him and stared at her. “Think what you will, but I don't care to discuss my love life.”

“Then you do have a love life.”

“Not anything to write home about.” He looked as if he'd regretted making that admission. Lizzie was glad he had. At least now she didn't feel so alone in her celibacy.

“I can relate,” she said. “My love life is more or less nonexistent.”

That recaptured his attention. “Obviously you had one at some point since you're pregnant.”

If he only knew the real circumstances behind the pregnancy. One couldn't be wined and dined by a plastic catheter. “You're right, let's not go there.”

His crooked smile made a sudden showing. “Ah, come on now, Dorothy. You started this.”

She stood. “And it is now finished, Ahab.”

The lights flickered as Lizzie carried their plates to the sink. She stopped and stared at the ceiling. “What was that?”

Turning, she found Jack with his head lowered, the bridge of his nose pinched between two fingers as if he had one heck of a headache. Then came a long, frustrated sigh. “The batteries are going down. It's only a matter of time before the lights go out completely.”

“Then we're going to be completely in the dark?”

He looked up. “Yeah.”

“Do you have any candles?”

“Another rule. No candles on the boat, which means we need to conserve power.”

So much for creating a romantic ambience, Lizzie thought. “Flashlights?”

“A couple. But I'm out of extra batteries. I do have a kerosene lantern we can use until that fuel runs out.”

Just peachy. Lizzie leaned back against the counter. “Does this mean we're going to have to eat cold food?”

“Yeah.”

“And take cold showers in the dark until we're rescued?”

“Yeah. But I was planning on that anyway.”
Coming to his feet, he headed toward the stairs. “Until the water runs out.”

“Where are you going?” Lizzie asked, following behind him in case he decided to shoot something else.

“To light some flares.”

“Can I help?”

He stopped and faced her. “You can watch.”

“That's no fun,” she said with a grin. “I'd really rather participate.”

He inclined his head. “Would you?”

“Yes. Don't you think it's more productive when two people get in on the act?”

“That depends on the act.”

In a fit of feminine insanity, she brushed her bangs away from her forehead and attempted a coy look. “Did you have a particular act in mind?”

His silver eyes darkened with something mysterious and promising and overtly sensual. “Flares, Dorothy. We're going to ignite some flares.”

Something else was igniting. Something new and different within Lizzie. Something combustible that had to do with chemistry, and not the kind one studied in high school. Combustion between a man and woman. Between Ahab and Dorothy.

Maybe Captain Jack didn't want to acknowledge it now, but he would if Lizzie had any say-so in the matter. They were stranded and had to find some way to pass the time. Life was short, and no one could predict the future. She might as well go for it because this chance might never come again. The chance to experience what it would be like to have a strong,
brooding sailor make love to her. A live, virile man. For the very first time.

Then once she returned to her life, she could take the experience with her. And on those lonely nights, she would bring out the memories to keep her company.

If
Jackson Dunlap could be persuaded to cooperate.

J
ack sent up the flares, only two tonight. He'd save the other two for later if these didn't happen to summon assistance.

“Oh, wow.”

He glanced at Lizzie who watched the cloudy sky with wonder, as if the display of light had been provided for entertainment.

“They're so pretty,” she said, turning her amazing smile on him. “I remember thinking that very thing while watching
Titanic.
”

Good, God. “I don't think we should go there, either, Dorothy.”

“Oh, pooh. It was a nice romantic movie, if you overlooked the ship sinking.”

“That's my point. I'd rather not discuss sinking ships.”

“I guess you're right.” As she backed up to the railing, her smile vanished but it didn't detract from her wholesome looks. With her wispy layered blond hair framing her face, her wide, guileless blue-green eyes, she seemed almost childlike at times. Yet her body shouted woman. Jack's gaze automatically drifted to her full breasts outlined against the thin fabric, confirming that fact.

Dragging his attention back to her face, Jack tried desperately to ignore her current state of undress, but with her wearing only his shirt and, he suspected, nothing else, his attempts at detachment were futile.

She didn't seem to notice though, much to Jack's relief. “Do you think someone will find us?” she asked evenly, but she couldn't mask the concern in her voice.

“Eventually.”

She seemed doubly disturbed despite the reappearance of her smile. “Maybe in a day or two, right?”

He couldn't bear to shatter her optimism, or to cause her more anxiety. “Probably.”
If
someone happened upon them.
If
the Coast Guard had been notified of their disappearance.
If
the storm didn't hinder any kind of rescue. And if they were lucky, they had twenty-four hours left before they had to deal with that.

Determined to provide some hope, he said, “Look, we still have plenty to eat. Of course, you might have to give up your dietary requirements for the time being.”

Her hand came to rest with reverence on her ab
domen. “I will do that for Hank's sake. He needs food.” She wrinkled her nose. “Even if it is some kind of questionable goulash.”

Jack admired her commitment to her child. Admired her ability to look on the sunny side of the situation. If only he could be that sanguine, but unfortunately he was far too jaded in general, in spite of his financial success.

The waves picked up, jarring the boat. Lizzie lost her footing and luckily Jack was close enough to catch her, close enough to smell her feminine scent mixed with sea air as she looped her arms around his neck.

“Whoa there, Dorothy.”

“Sorry. Guess I don't have my sea legs yet.”

She had great legs, Jack thought, and they were brushing against his at the moment. Even though he was wearing chinos, he could still imagine how her bare skin would feel against his. How she would feel beneath him.

He really should let her go, but what if she fell again? She did, closer against him. “Isn't good balance required when you're in a balloon?” he asked, surprised at the grainy quality of his voice, at his body's swift reaction to her nearness. At his resistance to turn her loose, which had absolutely nothing to do with courtesy.

“Not really,” she said in a wistful tone. “You have very little sense of movement in a hot air balloon. It's as if you're standing still, and the whole world is falling away from beneath you.”

Jack experienced that same sensation at the mo
ment. He felt as if something inside him was falling away, namely his opposition to anything that threatened his solitary life, his emotional fortitude. “Sounds great.”

“It is great,” she said on a sigh, her eyes linked with his as solidly as her arms circled his neck. “It's incredible.”

So was she, Jack decided. Incredible attitude. Incredible eyes, both wise and innocent. Incredible breasts pressed against his chest. And a very incredible mouth. Although it made no sense, he wanted to know that mouth intimately. Soon. Now.

There was no wisdom in his contemplation, no hesitation in the kiss. He simply took it, grabbed for the brass ring, as he'd done most of his life. Success had not come to him without risk, but the way Lizzie responded to his exploration—the slide of his tongue against hers, the way phenomenal heat coursed through his body—this attraction to her was more than risky.

As if he'd literally been burned, Jack pulled her arms from around his neck and placed her hands on the rail to steady her. Unfortunately, he wasn't feeling all that grounded, and it wasn't due to his lack of sea legs. “I don't know why I did that.”

She touched her lips with long slender fingertips. “I know why.”

“Yeah? Mind explaining it to me?”

Her grin came with the force of a gale. “You're a boy, and I'm a girl. It's nighttime, and we just enjoyed some fireworks.”

He couldn't deny that. He also couldn't deny that
he wanted her in a big way, but he couldn't act on that need. He had to remember she was pregnant and needed much more than he could give, emotionally speaking. He had to remember that in a matter of days she would be gone, and he would be back to his old life, exactly the way he wanted it—alone, with no concerns beyond his own welfare. With no worries of letting anyone down.

“Sorry,” he said. “It won't happen again.”

With one hand braced on the railing, Lizzie slipped the other down her side, over her hip, and back up to her waist where she planted it, as if displaying her wares. And some nice wares they were. “You're sounding mighty sure of yourself, Ahab.”

At least he'd sounded that way. “I am. Now let's go. It's time for bed.”

“Is it really now?”

He balanced on releasing a very descriptive oath. “Yeah. You can sleep in my bunk, and I'll take the fold-down sofa.”

“Isn't your bunk big enough for both of us?” she asked in a raspy, seductive voice.

Not in this lifetime. “I'd probably roll on top of you.”

“What a horrible prospect.”

Did the woman know no shame? Did she know what she was doing to him with every innuendo she uttered? Damn straight she knew. For some bizarre reason, she'd decided to play with him, in every sense of the word. And as bad as he wanted to play, Jack wouldn't. He couldn't.

A woman like Lizzie needed stability, not a man
who had spent his adulthood recklessly searching for adventure at every turn. She needed something solid and secure, a man who wouldn't fail her.

His first priority—his
only
priority—was to keep her safe until they again reached shore. Even if he was having a helluva hard time avoiding the fantasy of making love to her.

 

Lizzie had never been one to put much stock in fantasies, at least where men were concerned. Yet every night since the day she'd tried to get pregnant, she had fantasized about her baby's father. She knew only what the fertility clinic had volunteered— German heritage, mid-twenties, just over six—feet tall, brown hair, hazel eyes, a recent college graduate who happened to be very smart. Magna cum laude, in fact. She really liked that part. Not that she hadn't been proud of her accomplishments. Just because she'd chosen the creative route instead of academics didn't mean she couldn't hold her own in the intelligence department. After all, she had been top in her cosmetology class. The best darned aesthetician in the whole school, as a matter of fact. She had a gift for transforming women into what they envisioned themselves to be, at least from a superficial standpoint.

Unfortunately, she'd never been able to physically transform herself, not that she'd really wanted to. She had no use for makeup. Who needed the hassle of flaking mascara and reapplying lipstick on an hourly basis? Maybe she wasn't anything special in the looks department, but she knew who she was and
what she wanted from life. She had scrimped and saved, squirreled away her tips in order to try her hand at the balloon business. With the demise of Bessie, it looked as though it might be a while before she could start over again.

No problem. She would still have her little one. She only hoped that her child would inherit her creativity and his father's brains. A nice balance.

Lying back on the pillow in Jack's “bunk”—which happened to be queen-size—she allowed the steady rock of the boat to lull her into bliss, but it did nothing to bring about sleep. Oh, well. She would just try to imagine the man who had fathered her child.

She saw only Jack Dunlap.

If only she could get him out of her mind. But how could she? The man was sleeping in the next cabin wearing who knew what. Maybe nothing. That consideration brought about both chills and steam running helter-skelter through her body.

How silly she'd been to think that she could actually seduce him. They certainly hadn't taught her that technique in school. How ridiculous to believe that he would fall into her bed with the bat of an eyelash. If she chose to consider she couldn't even entice a man who'd obviously been by himself for months, then she would definitely be depressed. So she just wouldn't think about it at all.

But she couldn't quit thinking about
him,
his handsome features, his sober demeanor, his occasional smile that could knock the floor out from under her if she hadn't had good sense to ground her. Not to
mention his strong arms earlier on the deck. Boy, had he smelled great. He'd felt great, too. And come to think of it, he'd kissed even better.

Though he hadn't taken her up on her offer for a little night magic, he had shown some signs of life when, for reasons unbeknownst to her, he had decided to give her mouth a try. Maybe he'd been trying to shut her up.

Rolling to her side, Lizzie curled up into a ball and attempted to generate some heat. Thoughts of the good captain's lips aided her somewhat, but she could still use some extra covers. Might not hurt to tell Ahab good-night since an hour ago he'd pointed her in the general direction of the bedroom then left her alone. She didn't like being alone.

On that thought, she slipped out of bed and padded into the adjacent living area. The room was shrouded in darkness, the boat continued to sway and she accidentally knocked her knee on the sofa's arm.

She stifled her urge to yell out in pain for fear that she would startle Jack, and he might have found more bullets.

“Are you awake?” she whispered.

No answer.

“Ahab?” she called, this time a bit louder.

Still no answer.

Having somewhat adjusted to the limited light, she moved toward the sofa now made into a bed and used her hands to feel for Jack, a rather pleasant prospect. He wasn't there.

Most likely he was in the bathroom, she decided, and cautiously made her way in that direction. When
she didn't find him there, she realized there were only two possibilities—he was up on deck, or he'd abandoned ship.

Lizzie really didn't think he would leave her alone to fend for herself. Of course, she had been known to drive people crazy, but she'd never driven anyone overboard. She supposed there was a first time for everything.

Opting to alleviate her concerns, she made her way to the deck and released a breath of relief when she found him standing with his back to her at the railing, frozen like a berg as he stared out to sea. The steady stream of clouds in the overcast sky only revealed a partial glimpse of a three-quarter moon in brief intervals. No visible stars whatsoever and the wind was eerily calm.

Yet even in the muted light he looked imposing silhouetted against the fathomless horizon, strong and forbidding. Mysterious and seductive.

With catlike steps she approached him. “Are you okay?”

At the sound of her voice, Jack tensed. He'd been tense since he'd kissed her, every bloody inch of him. And in all honesty, he was anything but okay at the moment, especially now that she'd made another unexpected appearance when he'd thought she was safely tucked into bed, asleep. His bed.

Turning, he thanked his unlucky stars that he couldn't make out much more than her form. He didn't need to get another good look at the ultrathin, short shirt that revealed too much leg and the outline
of her breasts. But it really didn't matter considering all that he imagined underneath her limited attire.

He cleared away the images and the hitch from his throat. “I thought I'd keep watch for a while, just in case someone saw the flares.”

She took a step forward. “No luck, I take it.”

“No, no luck. But it's fairly foggy tonight.” The current conditions complemented his hazy mind.

“Maybe someone will come soon.” She hugged her arms tightly around her and moved closer.

The railing behind him kept Jack from backing up. He didn't really want to back away, but it might be best before he did something incredibly insane, like kiss her again, or lay her down on the deck without formality.

“Can't sleep?” he asked, knowing in fact that he couldn't if his boat's survival depended on it.

“I'm trying, but I'm a little cold. I thought maybe you might have an extra blanket I could use.”

He almost offered to keep her warm. Almost. “Yeah. In the armoire next to the bed. Top shelf.”

She hesitated a moment, the sudden silence as thick as the night mist. “Are you coming in soon?”

“In a bit.”

“How long is a bit?”

Surely she wasn't going to proposition him again. If she did, he might be tempted to take her up on her offer despite the fact he shouldn't. “I don't know. A few more minutes, I guess. Why?”

She turned her face to one side, allowing Jack the benefit of her pleasing profile. “If I tell you why I want you inside, promise not to laugh?”

He wanted to do a lot of things. Laughing was not one of them. “I'll try to restrain myself.” Solid advice he should heed where she was concerned.