Marooned with a Millionaire (7 page)

He settled for holding her closer knowing that when this was over, they would say their goodbyes. She would return to her life and the promise of her child. He would return to the sea with nothing but his seclusion.

Still, he would never regret having her with him, even for the briefest time. He would never be sorry that she'd landed on his boat and in his life.

He might be sorry that he didn't have more to give her in terms of permanency, that he didn't have the guts to open himself up to the possibilities. But they
still had some time together, hopefully not more than a day or two, for Lizzie's sake.

As for him, he would try to be strong, resist her body, resist what she had been so willing to offer.

And that could be the hardest thing he had ever done in his life.

 

Lizzie woke not knowing how long she had been asleep. She did know that her arms were now empty due to Jack's disappearance from the bed. She raised her head to find him staring out the windows that hit him chest high. The first signs of dawn cast the sky outside in a light pink-and-blue panorama, revealing subtle details of Jack's breathtaking back. Lizzie tracked the line of his strong arms dangling at his sides from broad, well-defined shoulders. But when her gaze reached his elbows, she made a little detour to study the path of his equally strong spine that dipped beneath his trim waist. And below that, a sight that could stop a stock-car race—firm, taut buttocks that looked as if they had been calculated to provide hours of entertainment for a pair of eager, feminine hands. Her hands, to be exact.

The realization that Jack wasn't a stick-around kind of guy did nothing to keep her from wanting him as much as she'd wanted him from the beginning.

But did he still want her? Only one way to find out.

Lizzie climbed across the bed and came up behind him. Feeling audacious, daring and a little bit dev
ilish, she slid her arms around his waist and pressed against him.

“You're up early.”

He let go a wry chuckle and braced his palms on either side of the window. “You don't know the half of it.”

She slipped her hands lower, down the flat plane of his abdomen—and inadvertently got the full effect of all of
it.
“J.J. seems very awake.”

He brought her arms up to his chest, but at least he didn't push her away. “I probably should check on the boat. See if there's any damage.”

She rested her lips against his back. “Why don't you come back to bed for a while?”

“I don't feel like sleeping.”

“Neither do I.”

He tensed but failed to turn around. “If I get back in bed with you, we both know what's going to happen.”

“A girl can hope.”

“That's all that would be between us after this is over.”

“I don't expect anything else, Jack. Promise.”

“But I can't promise you anything.”

“You could promise to stop thinking about it and just do it. You know you want to, and so do I.”

A shudder ran through him and Lizzie suspected he was close to giving in. “But you're pregnant,” he said. “I don't want to hurt you.”

“You won't.” Only a little. “Not if you're careful, and I know you will be.”

He turned into her arms and taking her by surprise,
lowered his head and kissed her, a joining of lips and teeth and tongues. He clasped her hips and pulled her flush against him. His unmistakable arousal fueled her own excitement, creating a rush of moist heat between her thighs.

As he backed her to the bed then laid her down, Lizzie didn't dare ask him why the change of heart. She only knew that he was here, kissing her neck, her breasts, preparing to give her what she needed, and apparently what he needed, too.

Maybe that was all it was, just primal need, at least for Jack. She could easily need more from him but she wouldn't fall into that sinkhole. She did need to tell him one very important thing.

When his hand traveled down her hip and curled to the inside of her thigh, Lizzie stopped him by clasping his wrist. “Jack, I have something to say.”

He lifted his head and stared at her. “You want me to stop?”

She chewed her bottom lip, searching for a way to say what she had to say without sounding like an imbecile. “No, I don't want you to stop, but you might find this a little odd.”

“Try me.”

“You remember when you asked me about the father of my child?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“Well, I don't know his name.”

“A one-night stand?”

“No, it actually took three times.”

He frowned. “I'm not following you, Lizzie.”

“It took me three times to get pregnant. And I don't know his name but I do know his number.”

“His phone number?”

“His lot number. J–34571. I've never met him, but I know his sperm intimately.”

“Are you saying you were—”

“Artificially inseminated. I wanted a baby but I didn't have any prospects. So there you have it, I don't know my baby's father and I never will. That's the way I want it.”

Jack's features softened. “To tell you the truth, Lizzie, I'm kind of relieved.”

Lizzie grinned. “You are?”

He returned her smile. “Yeah. I was a little worried that you weren't being completely honest with me. I thought you might even have a boyfriend or husband waiting for you back home.”

“Nope, no boyfriend or husband. No one but me and Hank.”

He rimmed her ear with his tongue. “Good.”

She framed his face in her palms and forced him to look at her. “There's one more thing.”

“Make it quick.”

Quick was good. Quick should be relatively painless. No need to beat around the bush, Lizzie decided.

She closed her eyes, drew in a deep breath and blurted, “I've never made love before.”

S
he might as well have thrown him overboard.

Never in Jack's wildest imaginings would he have expected Lizzie's revelation. Shock speared him as well as stupid male pride over the prospect of being her first.

But with the realization came some heavy apprehension on Jack's part. Not only was she pregnant, she was inexperienced, and the way he was feeling right now, barely clinging to control, he worried he might hurt her.

Needing some distance, he rolled away from her onto his back and rested an arm over his eyes.

“This doesn't change anything, does it?” Her voice was weak, unsure. Very un-Lizzie-like.

“I don't know. I'm thinking.”

“I can handle it, Jack.”

But could he?

Jack dropped his arm to his side and looked at her. She'd turned to face him with her jaw propped on her palm, her expression optimistic. He had a bird's eye view of her breasts, flushed and pretty in the morning light. He couldn't stop his gaze from traveling over the curve of her hip and the golden V at the juncture of her thighs. Despite what he now knew, he still wanted her with every molecule of his body and being.

She bent and planted a kiss on his neck then sent him a smile. “Lighten up, Jack. It's not the end of the world. It's just the end of my virginity.”

“And you're pregnant.”

She sighed. “I've read a lot of books on pregnancy. If I honestly believed I would hurt the baby, I wouldn't be doing this.”

He laid his palm on her bent head as she kissed his chest. “Why me?”

“Why not you?”

He could think of several reasons, the first being he probably didn't deserve the honor. The second—she deserved her first time to be with a man who intended to stick around. And there was the fact that she…

Obviously intended to torture him into submission.

Jack's thoughts shut off when Lizzie kept going with her kisses, straight down to his abdomen, way too close to the immediate matter taking precedence over his concerns.

“That's far enough,” he muttered.

Lizzie raised her head and frowned. “Why?”

Because if she continued, her first time would be over in record time. “Take my word for it, it's not a good idea. Now get back up here.”

“Promise you won't change your mind about seeing this through?”

“And if I don't?”

She gave him another scorching kiss right below his navel. “Then I guess I'll have to keep J.J. occupied until J.S. changes his mind.”

The urge to deny her, to feel her mouth engulfing him, tempted Jack to withhold the promise. But this was about her. This would be for her.

“I promise. Now come here.”

She shimmied up his body and practically climbed on top of him. He clasped her neck and brought her mouth to his, kissed her with pent-up, unrestrained passion. She moved against him in a steady tempo, sending him close to the edge.

He rolled her onto her back and rose above her to consider what he wanted to do next. What he
should
do next. He knew exactly what he wanted to do. Take a nice easy journey over her body with his mouth.

As if she'd tuned in to his thoughts like some sexy psychic, she asked, “What are you waiting for?”

Certainly not for her to give him the go-ahead. She'd done that time and again. But would taking certain liberties totally scare her off and out of his bed?

He took one look at her expectant expression and immediately reminded himself that this was Lizzie, the woman who gave no thought to going after him when he was armed. The woman who was totally
undaunted when she wanted something badly enough. The woman who'd just revealed an underlying sensual side that was waiting to be tapped—by Jack, if he decided to take that course.

Lizzie would handle anything he dealt her on a sensual level and probably with great finesse. As long as he was very careful.

She tapped her fingers on his shoulder. “I'm ready and willing, Jack. Give it your best shot.”

He sat up, shifted to the end of the bed and settled one mile-long leg across his thighs. He raised her foot and studied her toes. Her feet were about as pretty as the rest of her.

She shoved both pillows behind her neck and stared at him. “Are you going to give me a pedicure?”

“No.”

“Swab the deck? I see you've already lifted the sail.” She sent a pointed look at J.J.

Jack couldn't believe he was starting to grow accustomed to one primary body part having a name. Leave it to Lizzie. “I plan to give you the time of your life.”

She wiggled her toes. “I'm intrigued.”

This time he grinned. “You're going to be more than that, I assure you.”

“Promises, promises.”

When he planted a kiss on her instep, she giggled. Jack smiled from the simple joy of it. “Are you ticklish there, Dorothy?”

“Just a little bit, Ahab.”

He kissed her calf. She giggled again then tried to
look serious. “I'm sorry,” she said. “I guess I'm more sensitive than I thought.”

Jack smiled to himself when he thought about kissing one sensitive area on her person.

She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay. Continue.”

He kissed her knee lightly. She shoved one pillow over her face but it did nothing to stifle the sound of her uncontrollable giggles.

“Lizzie, you're giving me a complex.”

“I seriously doubt that,” she said, her words muffled by the pillow.

When he whisked his lips above her knee, her chortles turned into full-fledged laughs. Normally that might halt Jack's plan but it only served to make him more determined. He parted her legs and stretched out between them, then kissed his way up the inside of her thigh.

She dropped the pillow from her face.

She wasn't laughing.

“Oh, so you're not ticklish here?” he asked, brushing his knuckles back and forth over the path his lips had taken.

“Uh, no.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

Jack felt somewhat pleased that he'd found a way to shut her up, at least to make her stop laughing. But he didn't want her totally quiet once he really got down to business.

On that thought, he slid his tongue up the inside of her thigh but he didn't linger for long. He continued to the slick folds to find the spot that would elicit a moan. Lizzie clutched his head in a death grip
while he suckled her until she squirmed beneath his mouth. He slipped a finger inside her, then two, imagining in vivid detail what it would feel like to experience all that heat surrounding him.

He looked up to find her eyes wide with surprise, hazy with desire. Her breasts rose and fell with each labored breath as he continued to manipulate her with his mouth, showing her no mercy. He felt her tense around his fingers, heard her softly moan, but that didn't stop him until every last spasm of her climax subsided.

Jack moved over her, his body raging with the need to take her now. Instead, he smoothed her hair away from her face and kissed her softly. “Are you ready now?”

She closed her eyes. “I think I am.”

Jack was concerned over her tentative tone. He skimmed his palms down her arms to discover her hands balled into tight fists. “Relax, Lizzie.”

She rolled her neck on her shoulders and shook out her hands like a runner preparing for a relay. “Okay.”

This wasn't going to work, not with her wound tight enough to break. On one level Jack could relate. He was wound pretty damn tight himself.

Moving back to her side, Jack breezed his fingertips over one breast, then the other before sliding his hand between her thighs where his mouth had been only a few moments before.

Her eyes snapped open. “Jack, you really don't have to—”

“I want to,” he said as he stroked her lightly,
tenderly, insistently. When he detected she was on the brink of another release, he took his hand away, parted her legs with his thigh and moved atop her. He eased inside her a fraction and saw a hint of apprehension in her expression.

Jack's body demanded a hard thrust but his head told him to take it slowly. He swept his lips over her flushed cheek. “Are you okay?”

Lizzie nodded and traced her fingertip along his clenched jaw. “I'm fine. Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You look stressed.”

It wasn't stress that had him gritting his teeth. It was sheer sensation, the overwhelming need to be completely inside her.

“I've never done this before,” spilled out of his mouth before he realized how inane that sounded.

Lizzie looked totally taken aback. “You're a virgin?”

This time he laughed but it held no mirth. “I've never done this before without some kind of protection.”

“Never?”

“Never. I want you to know that I'm safe. I don't have any—”

She silenced him by pressing a fingertip to his lips. “I trust you.”

He withdrew slightly then slid back inside her a little more. “You're way too trusting, Lizzie.”

Tension showed in her features. “I know that you wouldn't put me in any danger that way. I know you
wouldn't intentionally hurt me.” She winced when he pushed deeper.

Jack froze. “I'm hurting you.”

“No pain, no gain, as they say.”

“Hell, Lizzie, I don't want to hurt you at all.” He slid his hand between them and fondled her above where they were joined. “I want to make you feel good.” As good as he felt. As frantic as he felt.

She opened again to his touch, responded as sweetly as she had before. Lizzie began lifting her hips, urging him deeper and deeper still when another orgasm claimed her. He sank fully inside her and almost lost it, too. He slid his hands beneath her bottom and pulled her closer while he stilled to savor the way she felt surrounding him, snug and hot and smooth as top-grade scotch. Paused in an effort to make it last.

“Jack,” she whispered. “What's wrong?”

He nuzzled his face in her neck. “Nothing's wrong. It's just that you're so tight.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“It's a good thing. Too damn good.”

She lifted his face into her palms. “Nothing can be too good.”

Oh yeah, it could, Jack thought as he surrendered to his body's command, recognized the fact that he hadn't felt this great in a long time, if ever. Lizzie's gaze never strayed from his as he moved inside her with as much temperance as he could muster. It wasn't long until she caught on and moved with him, her eyes full of wide-eyed wonder but thankfully no hint of pain, only pleasure.

Too soon, Jack acknowledged when he could no longer hold his own climax at bay. Too, too soon.

The climax wracked his body and he shook with the explosion. As he tried to recover, Lizzie held him securely against her breasts and caressed his back with long, silken strokes.

“I never knew,” she said in a reverent tone, bringing Jack back around to the here and now.

He kissed her as if he could never get enough of her. He marveled at the way she made love, relished her laughter, appreciated her zest for living.

In that moment Jack realized that the old saying about the road being paved with good intentions was patently true. He never intended to fall hard for any woman, much less Lizzie Matheson—a woman who had the capacity to creep past his reserve.

He couldn't forget that once this ordeal was over, he would still be the same old Jack with the same old shame, the same old failures. He would still have to deal with the life he had chosen and that didn't include making Lizzie a permanent part of it. He also knew that even after she left him alone, she would leave an indelible mark on his soul.

 

After drifting back to blissful sleep in Jack's arms, Lizzie awakened to find he'd disappeared again. She stretched her arms above her head and immediately realized it was much later than she'd first believed, evident by the sun's rays streaming into the deserted room.

She slipped from the bed and came to her feet on wooden legs that didn't seem to want to hold her
weight. Otherwise, she felt remarkably well considering her recent activities. No real discomfort, now or before when Jack had made love to her. Oh, there had been some pain, but Jack's care, his gentleness, his fantastic skill had eased that quickly. She smiled over her good fortune in finding the consummate man to be her first lover. An incredible lover. A man she could so easily love. A man she already did love in many ways.

Lizzie took a few steps forward, thankful that the boat's movement had calmed considering that her memories of this morning made her feel anything but steady. She also felt sticky, both from the remnants of lovemaking and the salty rain that had adhered to her skin like plastic wrap. She wanted a bath, and she wanted food.

After retrieving one of Jack's T-shirts from the built-in bureau drawer, she put it on and headed to the kitchen, hoping to find Jack there. When she didn't, she assumed he was probably on deck checking things out. She would prefer that he check her out again.

Little did Jack know, he had created a super-charged, sexual need-machine. Even now, even though she was hungry enough to eat a live lobster, she would gladly forgo food for another bout of fun between the sheets.

But she had to remember her Hank. Hank needed food. Later she would deal with some kind of bath. Later she would deal with the melancholy emotions—the feelings for Jack crowding her heart,
knowing Jack would probably never feel the same about her.

Lizzie opened one cabinet and took out a piece of bread—stale but luckily void of mold—and ate it with a small can of peaches and a bottle of water. Not a lot in the way of sustenance, but it would have to do until they made it back to shore. And when that happened, she would seek out a juicy hamburger—made from turkey, of course. She would have a real bath. She would have Jack one last time before they parted ways. If she couldn't have more, she would take what she could get.