Marooned with a Millionaire

by Kristi Gold

  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.

  And now they were about to say goodbye. An inevitable moment, one that was coming too soon.

  Jack approached her, his hands buried in his pockets, admiration on his face as he gave her a long once-over. “You look great.”

  So did he in his navy jacket, khaki slacks and white tailored shirt, Lizzie thought. Every inch the prosperous, handsome businessman. A wealthy, dynamic man who could have his choice of any woman. She didn’t want to consider that now.

  Lizzie smoothed a hand over the dress. “Thanks again for this. I’m glad I’ll have a chance to wear it before it doesn’t fit any longer.”

  He studied the asphalt as if it was too painful to look at her. “Be sure to call me when the baby’s born.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that,” she said, and she had, a lot last night and this morning. “I’d like to ask you something. A favor, really.”

  He stared at her with a hint of alarm. “What?”

  She playfully punched him in the arm. “Don’t look so worried. I’m not going to ask you to play daddy.”

  “Oh.”

  “But I would like you to consider being Hank’s godfather.”

  His laugh was gruff, cynical. “You could do better than me, Lizzie.”

  “Give yourself some credit, Jack. I would love to have you as a role model for Hank. You’re a good man.”

  He hesitated for a moment. “You’re going to be a great mom, and I’ll think about it.”

  Lizzie wanted to shout with glee. “Good. And if you ever decide you want a friend, give me a call. I’m in the book.”

  “I will.”

  Lizzie doubted he would, but she could always hope. “Do you have any family nearby?”

  He lowered his head and rubbed his nape. “No family to speak of. Both my parents are gone and have been for a number of years.”

  So they had something in common after all. “I really hate the fact that you’re alone.”

  “As I’ve said before, I don’t mind—”

  “Being alone,” Lizzie finished. “I know. But it’s not as much fun as having someone around to harass. I’m really going to miss that with us.”

  Finally, he smiled. “Yeah, and I’m going to miss having my very own hairstylist on board. Guess I’ll just let the hair grow.”

  “And the next time I see you, I’ll call you Rip instead of Ahab.”

  When Jack didn’t respond, when he failed to acknowledge that they would see each other again, Lizzie gripped the car’s door handle and said, “Okay, then. I guess I better get going so you can get back to work, or whatever it is you plan to do.”

  “First, I plan to do this.” He pulled her hand from the limo then pulled her against him for a gentle yet thorough kiss. “I’ll never forget you, Dorothy.”

  For good measure, Lizzie grabbed his butt. “I’m gonna miss you and J.J.”

  His grin reappeared. “I’m sure J.J. will miss you, too.”

  But will you? Lizzie wanted to ask. Instead, she opened the car door and slid inside. No use prolonging the inevitable. Besides, she could easily cry a gully-washer if he kept looking at her with those soulful silver eyes, like a lost little boy who had no real direction.

  She had always been drawn to strays, from dogs to people. But Jack wasn’t a stray, he was simply suffering from the cruel hand of fate. She couldn’t save him from a meaningless existence. That was totally up to him.

  Jack closed the door, closing the chapter on Ahab and Dorothy, a story that had the makings of a real-life fairy tale, except for one thing. No happy ending.

  Lizzie knew that if she didn’t tell him now, before the chance slipped away, she would always wonder if it might have made a difference. Most likely not, but her father had told her to aim at honesty and shoot straight, and that regrets were to be avoided at all costs.

  She rolled down the window and crooked her finger at Jack. He crouched by the door and she leaned over, wrapped her arms around his neck then drew in a breath. “Promise me something, Jack.”

  “Okay.”

  “Promise to rejoin the land of the living. It’s high time you forgive yourself.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Good.” Just do it, Lizzie.

  She brushed a lock of hair from his forehead, pulled him forward and whispered in his ear, “Even if I’d known it would turn out l
ike this, I would have loved you anyway.”

  With that she let him go, gave him a smile, closed the window and told the driver, “You can go now.”

  She waved at Jack who stood with his hands in his pockets, his eyes locked with hers until the limo turned away and headed toward the road to home. Away from Jack.

  Although her declaration might not have meant anything to him, it had meant everything to her.

  Now she had no regrets except one—tomorrow she would wake without him in her life.

  Ten

  After packing provisions that would last at least a month, Jack set out on the newly restored Hannah alone.

  As he’d promised Lizzie, he’d attempted to rejoin the living over the past two months. He’d met with colleagues, attended a couple of social events and even played a few rounds of golf. But he felt no more alive for the effort, the reason why he’d turned to his haven once more.

  The Florida weather was crisp and clear, unseasonably cool for mid-August with only moderate winds. A good day for sailing, Jack thought as he guided his boat through the expanse of endless ocean. But regardless of the favorable conditions and the fact he’d been out for only a couple of hours, the atmosphere was starting to get to him—the salt, the sea air, the solitude.

  A few miles from port, Jack set the sails and the course, turned on the autopilot, went down below and collapsed onto the sofa. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew the necklace he’d inadvertently torn from Lizzie during the storm and held it in his palm. The police had recovered it from the smugglers and sent it by courier to the hotel that morning.

  Now Jack had possession of something that should be in the hands of its rightful owner—even though he was tempted to keep it as a reminder of his and Lizzie’s time together. But that wouldn’t be fair since she had coveted her good-luck charms.

  He could mail it to her, but then he would risk having it lost in transit. He should give it to her in person.

  Why not? He could see how she was doing, make sure Hank was okay. He only had to stay long enough to hand over the necklace, and see her smile one more time.

  Who was he trying to fool? If he saw her again, he would be tempted to take her into his arms, to make love to her for hours, for days. Right now he wasn’t certain she would even want to see him again.

  But God, he missed her.

  After setting the necklace on the galley counter, Jack paced the length of the boat, his footsteps echoing in the silence as he wandered from cabin to cabin. The place looked in order, the perfect home away from home—or it had been at one time. Now everything served as a reminder of how he had spent his life in a safe shell. How he had tried to escape his responsibilities, the guilt—and he hadn’t been successful. He couldn’t escape the memories of Lizzie, either.

  Even though the yacht’s interior had been redone and the facade had changed dramatically, everywhere he looked he saw her. Saw her at the table, playing a hand of poker, pretending she didn’t have a clue. Saw her in his bunk on her back, naked, her arms outstretched in welcome. He heard her laughter, heard her endless, endearing banter. And then he heard the words he hadn’t wanted to heed.

  I would have loved you anyway…

  Lizzie loved him, and he didn’t understand why. Maybe she’d been grateful to him for keeping her safe. Maybe it had to do with their intimacy. Maybe for once in his life, someone actually loved him for who he was, not what he could offer from a monetary standpoint. But could he give Lizzie what she needed?

  He honestly didn’t know. For that reason, he should stay out of her life, even if he did love her, too. Even if he hurt like hell when he thought about never seeing her again.

  The shrill of the cell phone jerked Jack back into reality. He sent a litany of curses directed at modern communication and the fact he wasn’t far enough out to lose the signal. Of course, he didn’t have to do anything but ignore it. Yet for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, he chose to answer the call.

  And by the time the conversation ended, Jack was damned glad he had.

  “Lizzie, you have a client waiting.”

  Glancing at her watch, Lizzie released an audible groan and glared at the salon’s receptionist who wore her makeup like war paint. “It’s Saturday, Penney. I’m supposed to be off by noon and it’s almost three. Can’t someone else do it?”

  The woman stuck a pencil behind her ear and molded her devil-red lips into a fake grin. “Actually, I asked him that, but he refused. Besides, everyone else is completely booked.”

  Great. Lizzie pushed her fist into the small of her back that ached like a sore tooth. Hank was growing at an astounding rate, and obviously bent on reminding her often of his presence. “Oh, all right. But this is it. I’m starving.” She surveyed the waiting room yet found it full of only women and children, not one male in sight. “Where is he?”

  “He’s at the shampoo bowl. Lila took care of that. Now he’s all yours.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Didn’t you ask?”

  Penney rolled her chartreuse-shadowed eyes to the ceiling and patted her bottle-red big hair. “Of course I asked, but he wouldn’t say anything except that you’ve cut his hair before. You can’t miss him since he’s the only client back there. And he’s really good-looking, I might add. Maybe you’ll get lucky.”

  Lizzie didn’t need that kind of luck. She also didn’t need a man. Except for one, and that was an implausible dream. Two months had passed without a word from Jack. Too long to believe that she would ever see him again. “Anything else I can do, Penney?” Sweep the floor? Wash your car?

  “That’s it. Have fun.”

  Oh, yeah, lots of fun, Lizzie thought as she trudged to the rear of the salon past the stylists and clients chatting about everything under the sun. The noise droned on like a high-pitched drill, adding irritated eardrums to Lizzie’s list of physical aches and pains.

  At least the tips were good, but Lizzie wasn’t sure how much more abuse her body could take, especially her feet that she’d unwisely dressed in moderate pumps today. Normally she would be solely in charge of makeup and facials but because she needed the extra money, she’d resorted to doing hair again. A lot of hair. And if this guy was even the least bit particular, she’d be tempted to give him a buzz cut whether he wanted one or not.

  After reaching the shampoo room, Lizzie found the lone man sitting on a chair in the corner, one navy slack–covered leg crossed over the other—his feet sporting expensive loafers—a white terry towel draped over his head and face. He obviously didn’t want water dripping on his precious jacket, the drip. Either that or he was a weirdo who wanted to play hide-and-seek with the stylist. If he grabbed her fanny, she would be forced to slap him. For all of womankind, of course.

  Lizzie cocked a hip against the door frame and studied her newly polished nails. “I’m ready for you now, sir.”

  “I certainly hope so, Dorothy.”

  If Lizzie didn’t have the wall to hold her up, she would have collapsed onto the checkerboard tile at the sound of his deep voice.

  He slowly removed the towel, revealing his smile, his gorgeous silver eyes and his damp hair that wasn’t at all in need of a trim.

  Stunned, Lizzie could only gape at Jack even though she wanted to launch herself into his lap. Since their parting, she’d thought about him at least a hundred times a day. And now here he was, in the flesh, but why? And where was her voice? Obviously taking a swift journey down the drain in the shampoo bowl.

  He unfolded from the chair and stood, all six-feet-plus of manly man, bringing with him a familiar scent that churned up memories of sultry nights at sea, cool sheets, soft touches, heady kisses….

  “How have you been?” he asked.

  Miserable. Alone. Lovesick. “I’ve been great. How about yourself?”

  “I’ve been okay.”

  “I’m glad.”

  With his hands firmly planted in his pockets, he just stood th
ere looking as if he didn’t know what to say next. Lizzie couldn’t stand the uneasy silence, any silence for that matter, so she said, “It’s good to see you, Jack.”

  “It’s good to see you, too.” He hesitated for a moment. “And I lied.”

  “It’s not good to see me?”

  His smile was wan. “No. I mean yes, it’s good to see you. It’s great to see you. I lied when you asked me how I’ve been.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Well, I guess you could say—”

  “Excuse me.” One of the stylists pushed past Lizzie with a client following behind her. Then another pair walked in and suddenly the room seemed very crowded.

  Lizzie gestured Jack into the corridor where she faced him again. “You were saying?”

  Just then, a little boy came streaking down the hall and stopped to tug on Lizzie’s skirt. “I gotta pee.”

  Lizzie pointed toward the back of the salon. “Right down there, sweetie. Keep going.” The boy took off at a dead run and slammed the door behind him.

  “Is there someplace else we could talk?” Jack asked.

  “Let’s try the break room.” But the break room was occupied by Penney who held up a slice of gooey pepperoni pizza and regarded Jack with a smarmy smile then said, “Could I interest you in a piece?”

  This would not do, Lizzie thought. “No thanks, Penney, but you go right ahead.”

  After they returned to the hall, Lizzie sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s kind of crazy around here, especially on Saturdays.”

  “When’s your last appointment for the day?”

  “Actually, you’re it. I was just heading for home before you showed up.” And she still didn’t know why he was there. “Did you really come in for a cut?”

  He forked a hand through his hair. “No. I have something I need to show you, if you have the time.”

  “Where is it?” Whatever it was.

  “We have to take a drive.”