Marooned with a Millionaire (9 page)

He came to his feet and held out his hands. “Just this little place I know.”

 

Little
was anything but an appropriate description of the Twelve Sands Resort. Lizzie couldn't believe that her first night back on land would include a stay-over at a place fit for a goddess.

As they walked through the massive marble-and-gold lobby, Lizzie felt like a washed up rodent in her disheveled clothes and stringy hair, her skin sporting a fine covering of salt. When a debonair, silver-haired gentleman wearing a neatly pressed suit approached her and Jack, she considered ducking behind the palm tree to her right. Not that it would provide much cover.

He held out his hand to Jack. “Mr. Dunlap, this is certainly a nice surprise.”

Jack shook the man's hand while Lizzie mentally chanted,
Don't introduce me, don't intro—

“Mr. Brevard, this is Elizabeth Matheson, my guest for the evening.”

The man sent her a welcoming smile as if she were royalty, not ragged. “So happy to have you, Ms. Matheson.” He turned his attention back to Jack. “We have the suite ready. I'll have someone bring you your messages. What else do you require?”

“Have room service prepare me my usual,” Jack said. “Ms. Matheson will require a vegetarian meal.”

“Champagne?” Brevard asked.

Jack glanced at Lizzie then said, “No champagne tonight. Just plenty of water.”

“Very good, sir.”

Jack regarded Lizzie. “Anything else, Dorothy?”

Lizzie immediately noted the hint of surprise in Brevard's expression before he returned to the business facade. More than likely, he assumed they were having a tryst and Jack accidentally called her by her real name.

“Actually, Ahab, I'd really like a hot fudge sundae.”

“I'm sure that can be arranged,” Jack said.

“Most certainly,” Brevard answered, still looking more than a little confounded.

“And I need foam pillows, if that's okay,” Lizzie said. “I'm a little allergic to feathers.”

Jack placed a hand on her back as if to nudge her forward. She was probably pushing her luck but she had one more request. “Would you happen to have a Miami phone book, Mr. Brevard?”

“Of course. I'll have everything sent right up.”

She gave him her sunniest smile. “Great. I have a few calls to make.”

“And Mr. Brevard,” Jack said. “Could you please arrange for Dr. Jacobs to come to the suite within the hour?”

Brevard's expression went from confused to concerned. “Are you ill, sir?”

“I would like for him to examine Ms. Matheson.”

Lizzie stared at Jack. “That's really not necessary. I'm sure the baby is fine.”

Brevard cleared his throat. “Will that be all?”

Jack looked more than chagrined. “Yes, that will be all.”

He took Lizzie by the elbow and guided her through the lobby and into an elevator made of glass on three sides. They were the only two occupants, a good thing because Lizzie had plenty to say. “I can wait to see my own doctor, Jack. When I get back to Miami, I'll make an appointment.”

“I'd feel better knowing you're okay before you leave. As soon as the boat's repaired, I'll be heading back out.”

Back out to sea, back out of her life. “I'm sure everything is A-okay with Hank.” She patted her belly. “Considering he's floating around all the time, I doubt he even noticed we were on a boat.”

“I'm sure you're right, but humor me, okay?”

She rolled her eyes. “Okay, if I must.”

The doors opened on the fourth floor and a young couple entered the car. Most likely a pair of newlyweds, Lizzie decided, considering the way they clung to each other like human moss and exchanged
glances along with the occasional kiss. She and Jack stood on opposite sides of the elevator, pretending not to notice. But Lizzie noticed even though she tried with all her might not to.

Feeling somewhat down in the dumps, Lizzie turned to stare out the glass enclosure as they climbed upward. Under normal circumstances, she would appreciate the view of the indoor maze of water gardens zigzagging across the lobby and the bronze statue of dolphins—a honeymooners' paradise. But she and Jack weren't on their honeymoon. Not even close. They were preparing for an ending, not a new beginning.

The couple followed Jack and Lizzie into the foyer of the top floor where the honeymooners entered an exclusive-looking restaurant emitting luscious smells that made Lizzie's stomach groan like a rusty tail-pipe. Surely Jack didn't intend for them to stop off for a meal. She was wearing the same set of clothes she'd worn the day she'd dropped in on Jack, along with a pair of his deck shoes, not at all suitable for a place that most likely adhered to a dress code.

Fortunately, Jack told her, “This way,” and led her through an ornate corridor with rich-blue carpets and lots of mirrors that Lizzie purposely avoided. If she got a good gander at herself, she would definitely be depressed.

All she wanted right now was a long shower and to gorge on a decent meal then crawl between the sheets, preferably with Jack. But that remained to be seen. Would they have one last night together? Or was this it?

So long, Lizzie. It's been interesting, Lizzie. Goodbye, Lizzie.

They came to an alcove hidden in the corner behind two large plants sporting lovely orange and red flowers. Jack used a card key to access the elevator and they both stepped inside. Obviously they hadn't been at the top of the high-rise after all, Lizzie realized when they traveled one more floor.

The elevator opened to a set of double doors, which Jack used the same key to unlock. Jack pushed the doors open and Lizzie entered a luxurious foyer straight out of the movies, all gilt and marble, much like the lobby. Beyond that, a penthouse suite straight out of a dream. She resisted the urge to kick off the too-big shoes and curl her toes into the white carpet, not at all a good idea.

One whole wall was tinted glass, revealing a multitude of stars and tiny twinkling lights coming from the harbor below. The designer furniture carried out a nautical theme with shades of blue and touches of red, an apt reflection of the typical luxury seaside resort. Jack stood by looking pleased and peacock-proud, as if he'd just discovered hidden treasure.

Slowly Lizzie turned around to survey the room. “Wow.”

“I take it you like the accommodations?”

Her gaze zipped to his. “Like them? I've never, ever stayed in any place so…so…rich.”

“Good. Make yourself comfortable.”

Lizzie didn't dare sit on the furniture, not until she was clean. “You must stay here often considering the fact everyone knew you downstairs.”

“I live here, when I'm not on the boat.”

Holy mackerel. “You live in a resort? That must cost a fortune.”

He forked a hand through his hair. “Actually, it doesn't cost me a thing. I own the place.”

“They let you buy the penthouse?”

His grin reappeared. “I own the whole resort. This one, and five others throughout the world.”

Lizzie swallowed hard. Granted, she suspected Jack had a good deal of money from the looks of the yacht. But she had no idea that she'd spent the past few days keeping company—and making whoopee—with a tycoon. “Well, Ahab, looks like you've done pretty well.”

“I do okay.”

Okay? If this resort denoted only okay, she would love to see his idea of great. “So what now?”

The question seemed to hang on the air for a long moment until he said, “I personally would like to take a shower.” He pointed to Lizzie's right. “The bathroom's through there. You'll find a robe hanging in the closet.”

“Really, Jack, I don't mind if you go first.”

He gestured to his left. “My bedroom and bath is down there. Yours is in the guest suite.”

Oh, so she had been relegated to guest status. So much for their final night together. “Great. I'll just take a shower now.”

“Good. Dr. Jacobs should be up within the hour.”

“I won't take long.”

“Take your time. He can wait awhile. I keep him
on the hotel payroll and supply him with plenty of free golf, so he's always very accommodating.”

Lizzie wished she could say the same for Jack, not that he hadn't been very accommodating to this point. But it looked as if that might all be over. “Fine. See you in a bit.”

Lizzie wandered down the small hallway and opened another set of double doors to another room fit for royalty. But this one had a more classic decor, almost feminine in some ways with its cool Caribbean colors, a peach-and-turquoise comforter covering the queen-size bed. Maybe Jack entertained a lot of female guests. If that were true, she doubted they would require their own bedroom since she was certain they shared Jack's bed. And that thought made her seethe.

How stupid for her to be jealous, she thought as she stripped out of her icky clothes and made her way into the fabulous peach-colored bath. Whatever had existed between her and the captain was basically over. That didn't make her any less disappointed. That didn't make her want him any less. Or love him any less. And she did love him even knowing he could never love her back.

As she washed away the remnants of the sea, she felt as if she were washing away the last vestiges of Jack's kisses, Jack's touch, Jack's incredible care.

But she knew in her heart that she would never, ever wash away the memories. If she couldn't have Jack, she would always have those.

J
ack paced outside the guest quarters while Dr. Henry Jacobs examined Lizzie, thinking it odd that he felt so nervous, felt as if he were an anxious father. That thought stopped him cold.

He wasn't the father of Lizzie's baby. He wasn't responsible for them from this point forward. But he wasn't sure he would ever stop feeling responsible, especially if the exam resulted in bad news.

Jack moved a little closer to the closed doors and heard both Lizzie and Jacobs laughing. Jacobs rarely laughed. In fact, he'd been known to hurl a club or two or three on the golf course even if he was kicking everyone's butt. But then Lizzie would probably have a doomed man guffawing as he headed to the gallows.

The doorknob turned and Jack stepped back, but
not quite quickly enough to hide the fact he'd been eavesdropping.

After closing the door behind him, Jacobs approached Jack and patted him on the back. “She's one healthy lady.”

“Are you sure? The baby—”

“Looks okay, but it's hard to tell since she's in her first trimester. I told Lizzie she needed to check in with her OB for a more thorough exam, but if something had happened, she would have known by now.”

“Okay. If you're sure.”

“Yeah, I'm sure, so don't look so damn worried.”

Jack glanced over Jacobs's head toward the doors. “Where is she?”

“Getting dressed.”

As asinine as it seemed, Jack was jealous that Lizzie had undressed for Henry Jacobs, a short, balding sixtyish semiretired doctor who had a paunchy middle and a wife of thirty-something years.

“I appreciate you taking care of her,” Jack said.

“Not a problem. Make sure she drinks plenty of liquids. And don't whisk her away on any lengthy boat rides for a week or two and she'll be fine. Other than that, carry on as usual.”

“Is that okay? I mean, the carrying-on bit.” Now why the hell had he asked that? He didn't plan to make love to Lizzie again. She was leaving tomorrow. That would complicate everything. She needed her rest. She didn't need him.

Jacobs chuckled. “If you're asking me if it's okay to have a little activity between the sheets, as far as
the pregnancy's concerned, I see no harm in that at all. Lizzie can let you know if it's a problem.”

Jack headed to the door with Jacobs following behind him. Before the doctor left, he faced Jack with his usual staid expression. “Take care of your girl. She's a very special lady. And congratulations. About time you decided to settle down.”

Your girl…

Jack was preparing a rebuttal when he heard approaching footsteps behind him. Then Jacobs raised his hand in a wave and said, “Good night, Lizzie. It's been a pleasure.”

Jack still hadn't voiced a denial when Jacobs headed out the door. He turned to Lizzie and found her standing in the room, looking somewhat sheepish. “He thinks this is my baby?”

She tightened the sash on the terry robe. “I swear I had no idea he would make the wrong assumption. He didn't ask the hows or whys about the baby, just questions about the pregnancy. Did you know he has five kids?”

Jack only knew one thing, he needed to set the record straight with Jacobs as soon as possible. The man wasn't only a practiced golfer, he was an expert gossip, at least when it came to the goings-on at the resort. By noon tomorrow everyone would learn that Jack was going to be a father. People would be shaking his hands and congratulating him. He would have to endure comments about having his own little sailor. Of course, then he'd be expected to pass out cigars and talk about which university his boy would attend. He would insist on Florida State, his alma
mater. He'd definitely encourage him to consider something steady, like business, so he could run the company one day and…

Jack threw on the mental brakes.

Tomorrow she would be gone. No more Lizzie or Hank in his life. No more hearing her laughter, or listening to her bad jokes. No more waking up next to her. And that was for the best. Then where did that nagging ache in his chest come from?

Probably a lack of decent food.

Jack gestured toward the dining-room table. “Dinner is served. Let's eat before it gets cold.”

Before he did something stupid, like ask her to be his girl, permanently.

 

After contacting the head of the chase crew, who'd been elated to learn she hadn't met a watery end, Lizzie consumed her dinner like a field hand, eating every last bit of the vegetarian lasagna, salad and sundae. At this rate she would have to be transported by heavy-duty equipment at the end of seven months. Seven months that she would spend alone until the birth of her precious baby.

But she wouldn't think about that now. She would concentrate on the few hours remaining with Jack.

Solemn Jack, who had pushed his half-eaten dinner away and sat silently staring into space, a far-off look in his eyes. Lizzie assumed he was already considering returning to sea. More than likely, he would be happy to be rid of her. But she wasn't going anywhere until morning. They still had one last night
together, and she intended to make the most of it, if he cooperated.

Lizzie leaned back in her chair, crossed her hands over her tummy and sighed. “Dollar for your thoughts.”

He smiled but it looked almost sad. “Isn't that supposed to be a penny for my thoughts?”

Lizzie returned his smile. “Not at today's rate of inflation. But since I don't have any spare change, I guess I can't even offer you a penny.” She could offer him her body but decided to move slowly lest he decide to make a quick getaway.

She rested her cheek on her palm. “What has you in such a melancholy mood? That old wanderlust?”

His smile faded, giving way to a serious expression. “I was thinking about you going home tomorrow.”

Did she dare hope that he was going to miss her? That he might ask her to stay? Probably not. But maybe he would want to see her again. “What about it?”

“What are you going to do for money?”

Of course. Millionaires thought a lot about money. Jack was a millionaire. Probably a multimillionaire. Jack was also a loner. He had no intention of ever seeing her again. And she had no intention of accepting a handout, if that's what he was offering. “I'm going to get my old job back at the day spa. I should be able to add to my savings since the balloon was insured. Hank and I will be just fine.”

“Let me buy you a new balloon,” he said.

Great. A parting gift. “That's not necessary.”

“I insist.”

“I'll buy another one someday.” But she doubted she would ever find a man like Jack—a lonely successful sailor searching for a tranquillity not quite within his reach. The consummate lover. And beneath the stoic facade, a caring man.

“I wish you would at least consider it,” he said. “After all, I'm the one who put Bessie out of commission.”

“After I practically destroyed
Hannah.
”

This time his smile was brighter. “We've been through a lot together, haven't we, Liz?”

Lizzie's heart clutched in her chest. “What did you call me?”

He frowned. “Liz. Is that a problem?”

“No.” Lizzie bit the inside of her cheek to stop the threatening tears. “My dad used to call me that because he thought it sounded more grown-up. Of course, the first time he said it, I was only ten and I had just beaten up the bully next door. I pretty much knew I was in trouble.”

“I assure you, you're not in trouble now.”

Lizzie saw her chance and decided to take it. “Oh, darn. I was kind of hoping I was.”

Jack leaned forward. “In what way?”

She stood and approached him, bolstering her courage, expecting a possible rejection. “I was hoping for the kind of trouble dealt out by a sexy sailor who is very hard to resist.” She braced her hands on his shoulders from behind and leaned to kiss his cheek.

He laid his hands on hers but didn't turn around. “You'll be leaving tomorrow.”

Like he really had to remind her of that. “I know.”

He rose from the chair and faced her, standing so close that she could get the full effect of his sea-breeze cologne and his penetrating silver eyes. “I imagine you're tired.”

“Not that tired.”

He was dressed in business casual and she was wearing nothing but a hospitality robe. That could easily be remedied. She began to unbutton his tailored white shirt, gathering all the arguments should he try to stop her. But he didn't. He continued to watch her, his hands at his sides, while she parted the fabric to reveal his solid chest. Lizzie looked her fill knowing that it might be the last time. She stored the vision of his bronzed skin and tensile muscle in her mind, something to bring out on a rainy day. Her own little ray of sunshine. But she wasn't quite done taking mental pictures.

When she reached for Jack's belt, he muttered, “Not this time.”

Lizzie opened her mouth in protest, only to have it closed by Jack's lips covering hers in a star-producing kiss. The earth fell away from beneath her as he continued to gently explore with his soft, heavenly tongue. Then she realized Jack was lifting her into his arms, carrying her away in every sense. She opened her eyes when she heard a door close behind them.

Jack broke the kiss and slid her down along the
length of him then framed her face in his palms. “Are you sure about this?”

She nodded.

“It's only tonight, Lizzie. I have to—”

She stopped his words with a brief kiss. “I know what you have to do, and what I have to do. You have to find your way, and I have to find mine. But we still have tonight.”

Stepping back, she undid the sash at her waist and let the robe fall to her feet. Even as Jack's gaze roamed over her body in a leisurely exploration, even though she was totally exposed emotionally and physically, she didn't feel the least bit self-conscious by his perusal. This was Jack, a man whom she had only known a brief time, yet she felt as though she'd known him forever. If only she could know him forever after.

She'd never had a doubt about the existence of his heart, especially now when she saw it shining in his eyes, in his words when he said, “I don't believe I've ever met a more beautiful woman, inside and out.”

A lump formed in Lizzie's throat, blocking any response. She fought back the tears, a war she was determined to win, at least tonight. Tomorrow she could mourn. Tomorrow she could cry. Tonight she would simply love. Love Jack with all that she had to give.

Jack removed his own clothes while she watched then held out his hand. He guided her down on the bed covered in blue satin sheets, then guided her into pure rapture when he sent his hands, his mouth, on
a thorough excursion over her flushed body. She did the same to him, memorizing every detail from the bend of his elbow to the birthmark on his thigh—and every magnificent part in between.

He slid inside her on a sigh, and she came apart on a moan. The time they had spent together over the past few days seemed to come down to this moment—bodies twined in pleasure, a sensual stirring, an incredible jolt to the senses, an experience that Lizzie would never forget.

And she would never forget how he folded her in his arms in the aftermath, how he stroked her hair in silence and kissed her cheek as if she were a gift. Never would forget how much she loved him.

She would take that with her when she left tomorrow, along with her memories of a man who had no idea how much he had to give, if only he would forgive himself.

 

Jack stayed awake to watch Lizzie sleep in the glow of the bedside lamp that he'd intentionally left on. She smiled now and then, as if she was keeping a secret. He had more than a few secrets of his own, or he had until he'd met her. Never before had he revealed so much of himself to a woman. To anyone, for that matter.

Lizzie had a way of making him want to confess all his sins and ask for absolution. Had a way of making him want to be a better man. She also brought out his protective side. But Lizzie didn't need his protection; she'd proved that to him on more than one occasion. She did need a man who could
give all of himself to her, to be a father for her baby. Jack had buried a good deal of his heart at sea. He wasn't sure he would ever be able to recover the part of him he'd sufficiently shrouded in shame.

Yes, Lizzie now knew his secrets, and it hadn't seemed to matter to her at all that he was anything but perfect. Still, she needed more than he was capable of giving, at least at this point in his life.

Yet he still had one more secret she would never know, and that was for the best.

He loved her, and he probably always would, even after she disappeared from his life.

 

The day was bright and sunny, but a tempest was gathering force in Lizzie's heart. As she stood beside the hotel limousine Jack had arranged to take her back to the mainland, she managed to force a smile despite the fact she felt like sobbing.

Taking a moment to push back the emotions, she stared out over the harbor and noticed Jack's boat had been towed into port. She'd been surprised he'd agreed to leave it and return in the Coast Guard cutter with her. He had said he wanted to make certain she was safe. Just one more thing she loved about him, the way he had been so determined to keep her and Hank protected.

While Jack spoke with the driver, a bellman approached Lizzie and asked, “Do you have luggage, ma'am?”

“Just this. I'm traveling kind of light this trip.” She handed him the bag housing her old clothing. That morning she'd awakened to a box containing
the sleeveless teal dress she now wore, along with a pair of matching sandals. Jack had told her that he'd sent his assistant to the hotel's exclusive boutique to select the correct size, but he'd insisted on the color since it matched her eyes.

Overcome by gratitude, she'd engaged him in a voracious hug and that turned into another round of uncontrollable passion. More memories made along with more sweet, sweet love.