by Krista Lakes
“Yes,” he told her after a moment. “I’ll have the lawyers draw up the final agreement and we’ll get signatures on it.”
She let out a nervous breath as she smiled. “But, we get another date. I want to make sure that we really do get along well. I’m not expecting us to fall madly in love or anything, but I would like to make sure that we can be friends.”
He smiled. “That’s better than a lot of marriages I’ve seen,” he agreed.
She nodded. “So, I guess that’s it? I’m not really used to negotiations. What am I supposed to do now?”
“I would advise a hearty handshake and something about setting up another meeting with my secretary,” he advised.
“Okay.” She stood up and offered him her hand. “Thank you, Mr. Weathers. I’ll have my attorney set up another meeting to make sure everything is finalized.”
“That’s perfect,” he told her, taking her hand in his. She was small and delicate in his hand and so warm. She flushed, her cheeks and throat turning red. Her chest started to color as well and he wondered just how far south the coloring went.
He realized he was still holding her hand and quickly released her. She smiled and glanced around his office.
“Oh, I have a question for you,” he said, not wanting her to leave. “Do you like to sail?”
“I’ve never actually ever gone sailing. It looks like fun, though.”
“Okay. I think I have an idea for our date,” he replied. “I’ll pick you up tonight.” He loved that she grinned.
“I’ll see you then. Thank you for your time,” she said, obviously trying to keep her professional image going. She managed to hold it for a second longer, then bolted for the door.
He stared at the empty room, feeling a little pang of loss from her leaving and yet smiling at the same time. She was adorable, sweet, and had no idea the exciting effect she had on his libido. He was already excited for their next date.
Chapter 9
Emma
* * *
Emma had everything ready to go, but she did one last final mental check just to be sure. She wanted to make sure this date was perfect. She needed it to be perfect, or she wasn’t sure she could go through with this.
She liked Jackson. She really liked him, but this marriage idea felt so forced. It felt fast and cheap because they weren’t going to marry for love. They were marrying for business. Granted, she was going to get everything she ever wanted: money, a house, a baby, and the opportunity to follow her dreams, but at what cost? Would it be worth giving up on love?
She tugged at her dark ponytail. Was this something she could really do?
She looked at herself in the mirror, taking in her long dark hair, the green swirled through light brown of her eyes, and the slight notch in her nose.
Who was she? Was she the type of woman to do this?
This date was going to be the deciding factor. If it went well, if she thought that they could be friends as well as lovers, she would say yes. She would sign the contract and marry him. For the amount of money and lifestyle she was going to get, she could put up with a lot worse.
Still, her conscience nagged at her. Their marriage would be a sham. Their child would be a publicity stunt. Was this really what she wanted?
“Just be yourself and see what happens,” she told the mirror. He would be here any second. She zipped up the light windbreaker over her t-shirt and capri pants. He told her to dress comfortably. The weather would be cooler out on the water, so even though it was summer and hot outside, she should bring a coat and hat.
The doorbell to her apartment rang. She gave herself one last nod in the mirror and went to answer it.
She opened the door expecting to see a driver or someone to pick her up. She wasn’t expecting to find Jackson standing there with a dozen roses and a box of chocolates.
“These are for you,” he said, handing them off with a smile.
“You didn’t have to get these,” she told him, lowering her face to the flowers and breathing in their sweet scent. It had been a long time since anyone had brought her flowers.
“I wanted to.” His green eyes were soft as he looked at her. “You deserve them.”
“I’m going to put these in some water,” she said, feeling a blush heat her cheeks as she stepped back and let him inside. “Do I need to bring anything for our date?”
“Just yourself.” He carefully closed the door behind him and looked around her apartment.
She tried not to feel self-conscious as she hurried to the kitchen and filled a vase with water for the flowers. She liked her apartment, but it wasn’t exactly the place she’d bring a billionaire. Sure, it was tiny and she probably should pick up more, but it was hers and she was happy with it.
“Okay. I’m ready,” she announced, hurrying back to him. He hadn’t left the entry area. She opened the front door. “After you. I have to lock up.”
He stepped out into the warm afternoon sunshine and she quickly locked the door behind them. Her hands shook with nerves, and she did her best to hide it.
She led the way out of her building to the parking lot where a bright blue sports car sat waiting for them.
“What happened to the red one?” Emma asked.
Jackson looked confused for a moment before chuckling. “Oh. I just felt like taking this one.”
“Oh. Okay.” Emma nodded. That was fine. Perfectly normal. Everyone had to choose between two hundred-thousand dollar cars on a regular basis.
He held the passenger door open for her. She wasn’t sure how it was possible, but this car was even nicer than the last one. She wondered if she should take off her shoes to help keep the interior clean. It felt wrong to use the car like a regular vehicle. It felt like using a Monet painting as a coaster.
Jackson kept up an easy, friendly conversation as they left her apartment building and drove to the marina. He drove fast, pushing the car more than Emma would have. She tried not to look at the road as he drove, instead focusing on him.
She knew he was a good driver, but he took far more risks than she did as a driver.
He pulled to a stop and put in the code at the marina gate. She’d seen the boats out on the water, but she’d never been out on one. Boats cost money and that was one thing she didn’t have.
If you marry him, you can be on a boat anytime you want, she thought to herself. She shook her head. Tonight wasn’t about falling in love with his money. Tonight was about making sure that they were a good fit.
Jackson parked the car and ran around to open her door for her. It was a simple gesture, but it felt nice. It made her feel taken care of. Wanted.
“You said you’ve never been sailing, so I thought I would take you,” Jackson explained, leading her down to the pier.
Docked along the side was a beautiful sailboat. Emma had no knowledge on sailing other than pirates did it, but she could tell this boat was nice. It wasn’t the biggest in the marina, but it had something to it that told her it was probably the most expensive sailboat there.
“Her name is the Techno Volante,” he said, guiding her to the gangplank. “Welcome aboard.”
“Do I need to call you Captain?” Emma asked, carefully putting her foot on the gangplank. The boat bobbed slightly and she was glad she was watching what she was doing.
“Only if you want to,” he replied. He winked at her, nearly causing her to lose her balance. “I like to be called Captain.”
She grinned and stepped onto the boat. “This is beautiful,” she said, looking around. Everything was wood paneled or shimmering white. She could see three neatly hung sails, ready to take them on an adventure.
“I’m glad you like it,” Jackson said, coming up behind her. “I thought we could sail today. If you’d rather take the yacht, we can, but it needs a crew. This boat I can handle by myself. I thought you’d prefer the intimacy.”
The word intimacy made her cheeks flush. She could go for some intimacy. Hell yes.
“I like t
his boat,” she said, her voice husky. “We can do it on the yacht next time.”
He grinned at her words and she flushed straight down to her toes. “If you say so,” he replied. He moved past her, his hand on her shoulder as he passed.
“You know what I meant,” she stuttered.
“Sure do,” he called back, heading to the front of the boat to untie the ropes.
She rolled her eyes and shook her head. There was no recovering that one. Best to just move on.
“Can I help?” she asked, coming over to where he was working with a rope.
“You want to steer us out of the marina?” he asked.
“I don’t have a sailing license,” she told him. “Just a driving license.”
He laughed. “That will work. This way.”
He brought her to the back of the open boat to a large steering wheel. It looked exactly like what she thought a pirate would use to steer his ship. She put both hands on the wheel and braced her feet.
“I’ll get us started. We have to use the engine until we’re in open water,” he explained, turning a key in the ignition. The boat rumbled to life and she felt her palms go sweaty. “Slow and steady.”
Jackson stood behind her, putting his strong hands on her shoulders. She had to focus on what they were doing and not the fact that he was touching her. It was a difficult task to ignore the heat he caused.
He gave simple directions, keeping his voice low and calm as she worked the boat out of the marina. It was like driving her uncle’s giant Buick, but on steroids. She managed to get out of the marina without hitting anything or tipping the boat over, which she considered a true success.
Jackson cut the engine and they gradually came to a stop, or at least what felt like a stop. It was hard to tell if they were actually going anywhere with the way the waves constantly moved around them.
“Excellent job,” Jackson told her, giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze. His praise meant the world to her.
“Is it always this... bumpy?” Emma asked. Everything was in motion. The boat went up and down. It went side to side. It went diagonally up and down and side to side at the same time. Nothing felt secure.
“This is actually pretty calm,” Jackson told her. He ran around to various ropes, loosening and tightening different ones to make the sails come down. They flapped in the wind.
“Calm?” She swallowed hard. Now that she wasn’t focused on not crashing the boat, she was very aware of her stomach and just how unhappy it was. “This doesn’t feel calm.”
Jackson looked over at her. “You might be getting seasick,” he said. His green eyes watched her with concern. “Do you get motion sickness?”
“Only when I read in the car,” she said. Her stomach knotted and she swallowed down, her mouth too wet and too dry at the same time.
“Look out at the horizon,” Jackson coached. He unfurled another sail. “Let’s see if some air helps.”
He did something more with the sails, but Emma wasn’t paying attention. Her focus was on the bobbing horizon and trying to keep her stomach under control. She heard him go to the big steering wheel and the boat moved even more. She tried not to groan.
A fresh breeze hit her face. It helped a little and she opened her eyes. Maybe I can do this, she thought.
And then she threw up over the side.
Three times in a row.
She didn’t even think she had that much in her stomach. It felt like she was bringing up dinners from last week. It was unstoppable.
I’m making a great impression, she thought as she lost last Tuesday’s dinner over the side of the boat.
She vaguely noticed Jackson coming to her side. He helped hold her hair back out of her face. He rubbed her back and made soft noises.
Finally, her body stopped. The nausea was still there, but there was nothing left to throw up. She felt like curling up into a ball and dying.
“How you doing?” he asked, still rubbing small circles onto her back.
“Do you have any water?” she asked, her voice raw. She kept her eyes closed and pressed her head against the metal railing, grateful that it was cold.
She heard him take a few steps before coming back with a bottle of water. She sipped at it gingerly, not wanting to give her stomach anything but still wanting to get the taste out of her mouth.
“Thanks,” she mumbled.
Jackson stood there for a moment, watching her.
“Get me the speeder,” Jackson said. Emma turned and looked at him, confused. He had his phone to his ear. “Set up the island house... Yes, the island house. Yes, I know. Do it.”
He hung up the phone and put it in his pocket.
“What’s that about?” she asked, keeping her voice low. She felt like if she opened her mouth too wide or spoke too loudly, her stomach would rebel again.
“Just changing plans,” Jackson replied. He rubbed her back again. “In hindsight, we should have taken the yacht.”
“Or maybe just stayed on land,” Emma agreed. “If we get divorced, at least you don’t have to worry about me taking the boats.”
Jackson chuckled. “I’m not sure if that should make me optimistic or worried,” he replied.
She swallowed hard as a wave knocked them around.
“I’m going to point us into the wind,” Jackson told her. “Are you okay for a minute?”
“I promise not to fall off the boat,” she said, clutching her stomach. “Other than that, I guarantee nothing.”
Concern filled his face as he moved quickly to the various ropes and changed the way the sails hung. She appreciated that he was trying to help her, but every bob of the boat just made things worse. She decided that she hated sailing.
The sound of an engine caught her attention. The last she’d looked, they were the only boat as far as she could see. She cracked open one eye and saw a speed boat coming in. It was headed straight for them.
The speedboat came up alongside the sailboat and tossed Jackson a line.
“You made good time,” Jackson said to the man driving the speedboat.
“You said right away, sir,” the man replied.
“You good to take the Techno back to the marina?” Jackson asked the man.
“Yes, sir.” The man nodded. “I also took the liberty of informing the chef. She’s moved things around to make it easier for you.”
Jackson thanked the man and came over to Emma. “Can you walk?” he asked her. His voice was low and comforting.
“I think so,” Emma whispered. “Why?”
“We’re going to get you off this boat,” Jackson told her. “Fred will sail back and we’ll take the speed boat back to land. I don’t want you to be miserable.”
“But our date,” Emma protested.
“Our date should be fun,” Jackson told her. “This is not fun. Come on.”
He took her in his arms. He felt so strong and steady that for a moment, she felt just a little bit better. Carefully, with the help of Fred, she made her way off the sailboat and into the speedboat. She wasn’t quite sure how changing one boat for another was going to help, but she was willing to do anything to feel better at this point.
Jackson exchanged some words with Fred before hopping in the driver’s seat. He made sure that Emma was as comfortable as she could be before turning on the engine and pulling away from his sailboat.
The speedboat was a vast improvement over the sailboat. With the extra speed and the wind in her face, she started to feel better. The motion of the waves was far less in this boat. They were going so fast that it felt more like a car. A car drive she could handle.
Slowly, she sat up. They weren’t heading in the direction she thought the marina was. They weren’t even heading in the direction she thought land was.
“Where are we going?” she asked, looking around.
Jackson looked over at her. “To dinner. If you’re ready.”
“As long as it’s not on water.”
He grinned and pushed the
boat to go faster.
Chapter 10
Emma
* * *
The sun hung above the horizon, shimmering with gold and scarlet as an island came into view. She had never been more happy to see solid ground in her life. For the first time, she understood why sailors always sounded so relieved to shout, “land ho!” She certainly felt like shouting it.
Her stomach had calmed down since getting on the speedboat. She still wasn’t ready to eat a large meal, but she no longer felt like the world was trying to throw her off of it either. Emma mentally crossed off a sailing career as a future occupation.
Jackson pulled the boat up onto the beach. The coarse sand grated against the hull of the ship as he made sure the boat was high enough on the beach not to get pulled out into the ocean with the tide.
Jackson took a deep breath and turned to her.
“I wasn’t planning on bringing you here. So, nothing’s ready. I had thought we’d sail to the yacht and eat there, but I don’t think you on a boat is a good idea for the rest of the evening.”
“I would very much agree,” she told him.
He hesitated, and ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea,” he said. “The house here is small. It’s not really for guests.”
“You’re worried I won’t be impressed?” she asked.
“Yes.” He shrugged. “The goal was to impress you tonight. So far, I’m not doing very well.”
“Says who?” Emma countered. “I’m excited to see it.”
“Okay. Just know that it isn’t my best property.”
“It’s an island. I’m impressed.” Emma smiled at him and looked up to see a man hurrying toward them. The man wore a plain windbreaker and jeans, and had a bright smile.
“Mr. Weathers, you’re early,” the man said, coming up to the boat. He tipped his head to Emma. “Everything is set up in the house. I’m afraid it’s not perfect, but I did the best I could in the time given.”