The Angler, the Baker, and the Billionaire (Destination Billionaire Romance)

by Day, Amberlee

  When Sophie’s face didn’t register understanding, he said, “It’s a submarine for two. Well, three, actually, but today it’s just for two.”

  He reached out and took her hand. It was a cool, drizzly day, and even in the wetsuit she was cold. Peter’s warm hand felt safe, familiar even.

  “If it’s a submarine, that means we’re going underwater?”

  “It does. Are you okay with that?”

  “Do you think we’ll see a whale?”

  “We’ll certainly try.”

  Peter helped her inside, and when the top closed, the engine started, and Peter took them right down under the water, into the depths of Sitka Sound.

  “Is it really safe?” she asked. “It does feel like we’re floating in a bubble, don’t you think?”

  “It does. This is only the second time I’ve used it, but the pawn shop where I bought it promised it was safe.”

  She knew he was kidding, but was still relieved when he grinned that dimply grin at her.

  Everything underwater fascinated Sophie. The pilings on the dock were covered in barnacles and muscles. Starfish lay scattered along the rocky bottom, and the occasional fish passed them, wide-eyed and unblinking at the strange craft.

  Garbage littered the water in spots: old bottles and shoes, pieces of rusty metal, and Sophie even spotted a cell phone. But the best things by far were the long shipwrecked fishing boats and rowboats they occasionally passed as the little submarine zoomed out into the sound and explored around the islands.

  Being underwater had a reverent feel to it, Sophie thought. They spoke in hushed voices, as if they might disturb the sleep of something ancient in the depths. When they passed a sunken fishing boat that sat upright on the ocean floor, Sophie reached out without thinking and put her hand on Peter’s. He looked up, surprised.

  “Thank you for bringing me here,” she said. She couldn’t explain why, but felt tears forming in her eyes. “I love magical places, and this has that feel.”

  “I’m so glad you’re here with me, Sophie.” Peter had brought the mini-sub to a rest where they could view the lost boat. She could feel the heat rising from Peter’s hand, and when he switched places so that his hand covered hers, he pulled her closer. Beyond Peter, the sub’s bubble made him look like a handsome god of the sea, his eyes even darker than normal, and shadows deepening the contours of his face. Her free hand went up to his cheek, and she brushed softly with her thumb. Peter let out a small moan, and pulled her so close she was sure he was about to kiss her.

  Ding-g-g. Some part of the submarine diverted his attention, and he released her.

  “Looks like we’re going to be out of oxygen if we don’t turn back now.” He gave her a look of apology. “Goodbye, shipwreck,” he said softly, as he turned the boat and sped the little vessel back to Sitka.

  Sophie sat back and watched the scenery, trying to calm her breathing. She’d dated very little before coming to Sitka, and she only remembered feeling so compelled to reach out and touch a man’s face like that once before. She knew that her feelings for Peter were growing every day, and it seemed that his were too. So why was it that she still couldn’t get Jamie the angler out of her mind?

  Later, in her room at the lodge, Sophie sent out a text:

  Jamie?

  There was no reply.

  26

  It was Saturday, and because the bakery closed on Sundays, it was the one night Sophie didn’t need to be up early the next morning. Peter had invited a pair of environmental scientists to the island for the weekend—Nobel Prize nominees who hoped to find funding for their latest project in Peter Cohen’s pocketbook. Sophie was invited as well, but when Peter texted her that the house had been invaded by carpenter ants and would be in the hands of exterminators for a few days, the gathering was moved to a large yacht Sophie had seen during previous visits to Sitka Harbor.

  Because of the change in venue, it turned into an overnight invitation for Sophie as well as the scientists and their spouses. Peter was quick to mention that there were multiple staterooms on the boat, so she’d have plenty of privacy. Also, as was often the case, Marisa would be present. Sophie packed an overnight bag, looking forward to the adventure with Peter and a visit with Marisa. Maybe her friend would have heard something of Jamie’s whereabouts.

  During the meal, the vessel cruised out past some of the islands to take advantage of the sunset. Marisa joined them for dinner. Sophie thought she’d have a chance to visit with her during the scientific talk, but found herself drawn into the scientists’ discussion as much as anyone else at the table. While she’d never been much of a science enthusiast, the prospect of Peter’s wealth being used to make real change in the world kept her engaged, and she asked questions and contributed to the conversation in ways that surprised her. More than once, she looked up to see Peter’s wide smile turned her way.

  They anchored in a spot not far off one of the islands, but with a clear view of the western horizon. The weather was fair but cold, and when dinner ended and the group moved to a comfortable sitting room, Sophie looked out the yacht window at the moonlight and shivered with the happy, romantic prospect. She looked across the room at Peter, who instantly met her eye. Whatever he saw there, he stood up and made his way over to where she stood.

  “It’s getting late,” he said, glancing back at the scientists. “What do you say we resume this conversation in the morning?”

  They bid the others goodnight, and Peter offered Sophie his arm. “Fancy—um, fancy view out there, even with the sun down. Would you join me for a walk on deck?”

  She put her hand through the now familiar and comfortable crook of his arm, loving how safe she felt with him. Still a little shivery with the romance of the evening, she offered him no other answer than a smile, and walked by his side out into the moonlight.

  “This is a beautiful boat.” Sophie ran her free hand along the rail. “Did you rent it?”

  “I own it, actually.”

  “This is yours?”

  “My parents usually cruise around in it, or at least they tell the captain where to go.”

  “Your parents? Are they here?”

  “They were, until a few weeks ago. They flew out to New England to watch the leaves change.”

  “That must be heaven,” Sophie said.

  “They think so. I’d like to see it someday, myself.”

  “Why didn’t you go with them?”

  “I had something pretty spectacular to keep me here.”

  Sophie didn’t look at him, but she knew by his voice that he was talking about her. She let the beauty of the evening and the company of this good, handsome man wash over her. “Peter, this place is amazing.”

  “It’s a beautiful spot, by moonlight or in the daylight from a fishing boat,” he said. “This is one of the locations where Roger takes the charter boats.”

  “Is it? You know, I wonder if this could be where we came the first day I was in Sitka.”

  “It … could be.”

  “That was the only day I went with Roger on the boats.” And Jamie. Her eyes lit up, and she turned back toward Peter. “Did I tell you I saw a whale that day?”

  Peter’s dark eyes studied her. “You did? Tell me about it.”

  “It was the most awesome sight. He was out closer to the island, and then he came up so close to the fishing boat you could almost touch him.”

  “A humpback.”

  “It was,” Sophie said. “Did I tell you already?”

  “No … I think Roger may have. But it sounds like you had a better view than he did.”

  “I did, Peter! It was incredible. I was watching for it to come up, then it was there, with all this power … and it was huge! I wouldn’t have thought that anything that size could be so graceful. And its mouth opened, and it was big enough—”

  “—to drive a Volkswagen bug into it.”

  Something about the way he spoke triggered her memory. Yes, that’s exactly what she’d t
hought that day the whale had come. Had she said it out loud? But he wasn’t even there. She was trying to remember when Peter came closer, one arm circling around her and the other hand reaching up to softly touch her cheek. Sophie’s breath caught, and she shivered.

  “Are you cold?” he asked.

  “No, not really. Just … you’ve brought me to another magical place, Peter. There’s something about being …” Lost in his gaze, she couldn’t think of what to say.

  “Sophie,” he said. “I need to tell you something.”

  “What?”

  “I … I need to tell you.”

  Kiss me, Peter. Just kiss me.

  The moonlit night was calm, but Sophie wouldn’t have noticed if a storm suddenly raged upon them, she was so caught up in Peter Cohen. What she did notice, however, was a distinct splash, and a slapping sound on the water.

  “What was that?” She snapped out of her romantic trance, and turned from him enough to lean over the rail, to see what made the noise.

  “Could be a whale.” Peter studied the dark water, too.

  “You’re kidding? In this same spot?”

  “Not unheard of. Here, I know you’ll want to see. Let me get the big spotlight out.”

  Peter stepped away, and Sophie could hear him working with something. She kept her eyes and ears on the water, but even in the moonlight it was too dark to see. Suddenly, a beam of light shot across the water.

  “There we go,” Peter said from somewhere nearby. “Let me just get it turned …”

  The beam from his spotlight shifted, shining close to the side of the boat.

  “Let’s see if we can see anything now,” he said.

  Directly in the spotlight, a round, bumpy back curved up out of the water, followed by a tail. It was less than twenty feet from the boat. Adrenaline shot through Sophie like something alive, and she leaned even further over the rail.

  “I see it!”

  The boat rocked so gently from the creature’s momentum, Sophie wasn’t even aware when she lost her balance. Her eyes were glued to where the whale had disappeared, hoping for another look. She didn’t even have time to scream before she hit the icy water.

  Sophie heard a shout before she hit the water, but once she was under, there was silence. She went in headfirst. The cold hit her from all directions, like knives. If it wasn’t for the adrenaline, she might not have fought through the freezing paralysis and righted herself while she sank.

  It was odd how far she went and how time seemed to slow down. Why did she keep sinking?

  My clothes. She struggled out of the heavy sweater, kicked off her shoes. Whether it was the movement or removal of some weight that made the difference, her sinking slowed.

  Kick. She had to will herself to do it, and it didn’t seem like it would work, but it was the only thing she could do. Feet, kick! They seemed to be obeying her. Everything was black and cold. She looked up—she hoped it was up. A lighter mass: probably the boat. It was so far away. She kicked toward it.

  A pillar of light swept slowly by, and where it touched, the darkness turned to green.

  I’m in the water. She knew it, but what that meant slowly registered. I might die.

  She worked harder, used her arms to push up. The cold pulled at her, but it was working. Her lungs burned—she needed air. The light swept by again, above her head. She was getting closer to the boat. When the light came a third time, she stopped moving, her arms stuck out to her sides.

  From the dark, an enormous shape passed through the light. Black and white ridges, rippling in the water. Bulk, power. Whale.

  Air.

  She pushed up. She was almost to the boat when it passed again. Time stopped, but she was still pushing up.

  Air!

  She could see it better this time. It slowed, and as the light passed, it touched the goliath’s eye. For a fraction of an infinite second, Sophie and the humpback looked at each other. It didn’t seem to be moving, but it was.

  She was almost to the surface when her head felt like it exploded, and everything went black.

  Peter’s instinct was to jump in after Sophie, but that would only ensure that they both drown. There was a bell, mostly for decoration, but he grabbed the clapper and rang it just long enough that someone would have heard. One of the inflatable rafts was stored nearby, and by the time he’d pulled it from its trunk, two of the crewman were there. He must have explained, but he didn’t remember. He pulled off his jacket and shoes in the seconds it took them to inflate the raft.

  “Tie it off!” Once he knew they had a hold of the end of the rope, he tossed the yellow rubber craft into the water, and in one leap over the edge, followed it down, landing on top as it hit the water.

  The crew had the spotlight trained to the water. From the raft, Peter couldn’t see, but someone from above shouted “There!” and Peter jumped from the raft into the water, following the beam of light.

  The anchor was pulled, and the yacht rushing back to Sitka. Peter knew this. He wasn’t sure whose room they were in. Marisa undressed Sophie from her wet outer clothes and was rubbing her with a towel. She wasn’t unconscious, but not fully alert, either. Peter had stripped down too, a towel around his middle, leaving a puddle of wet things on the bathroom floor. The door was open, and he kept looking out to see if Sophie was really there. Someone came in and gave Marisa a bundle.

  “Here!” She tossed some dry pajamas at Peter. “Give her some privacy for a minute.”

  “She needs to get warm!” His own teeth were chattering; he couldn’t imagine what Sophie’s internal temperature was like.

  “Let me get some things on her.”

  He closed the door partway, and only put the flannel bottoms on. When he came out, Marisa had helped Sophie into a robe. Her teeth were chattering badly.

  “She’s hypothermic. I got her.” He scooped her up. There was a couch in the room, and he bundled her up there next to his bare chest. “Get blankets.”

  Marisa was there before he finished speaking, swaddling blanket after blanket on top of them. Peter wrapped his arms around Sophie, rubbing her back, her arms. Everything about her was so cold. Her whole body shook, and while he shook too, he held her as close as he could, hoping to still her chills.

  “A towel, for her hair,” he ordered. Marisa had it quickly, wrapping Sophie’s wet, dark hair into the thick towel, and Peter pulled Sophie’s face into his neck, trying to give what warmth he had to her. Her shaking continued.

  “They’re bringing warm drinks,” Marisa said. “There’re supposed to be emergency warm packs. Someone’s looking.”

  “How close are we?”

  “I don’t know. They’ll let us know.”

  Marisa tucked the blankets more tightly around them, touching both of their faces. “You’re definitely not as bad as she is. She’s just … so cold.”

  Someone came with the hot packs and helped Marisa tuck them under the blankets onto their necks and chests.

  “That’s good,” Peter said through his own chattering. “That’ll help.”

  Eventually thermoses arrived, and Marisa helped them sit up. “Here, Sophie. Take a drink.”

  Peter could see her trying, but she was groggy, and the shaking was too hard.

  “Get her a towel,” he commanded. Someone did, and Marisa managed to pour some in Sophie’s mouth, letting the towel catch what missed. Sophie swallowed, coughed, and opened her mouth for more.

  “Good girl,” Peter whispered to her. “You’re going to feel better soon.”

  After they’d both gotten some warm drinks in them, Sophie settled back and rested on Peter’s bare chest. Her shakes had subsided some, and he was feeling much warmer. Under the blankets, he still rubbed her arms and her back, and moved his legs against hers to help circulation for both of them. Marisa hovered over, rubbing the blankets, patting the towel on Sophie’s head to help dry her hair. Someone came in and spoke quietly to Marisa.

  “We’re almost back to Sitka,”
she told them. “There’s an ambulance waiting at the pier.”

  Sophie’s eyes were open now, but Peter thought she still looked woozy. Her fingers came up his arm, and rested on his shoulder.

  “My head.” Her voice was hoarse.

  Marisa and Peter exchanged worried looks. Marisa removed the towel, and moved her fingers through the wet hair.

  “She’s got a big lump. Must have hit her head on the boat.”

  “I saw,” Sophie said.

  “I know you did.” Peter forced a chuckle. “We’ve got to get you past this whale fascination. You’re going to kill us both.”

  Finally, the cabin door opened, and three men in emergency gear rushed in and took over. The yacht had arrived in Sitka. Peter didn’t let go of Sophie until the men promised to let him ride in the ambulance. He reluctantly let them put Sophie on a stretcher. Keeping a blanket around his shoulders, he held her hand, only letting go when they took her out the door. As he followed, he heard her say again, “I saw.”

  27

  A sleepy haze kept Sophie from thinking clearly. The doctor said she had a concussion, so they tucked her into a hospital bed and kept her for observation. Her head hurt, and for some reason so did her hand. When she felt clear enough to see why, she saw an IV taped there. She tried to pull it off.

  “Stop.” Marisa was there, gentle but firm. She held Sophie’s hand. “It’s putting warm saline in you, bringing your body heat back up.”

  “My head?”

  “You have a concussion. You hit your head on the bottom of the yacht.”

  “Where is he?” Sophie’s voice was still hoarse.

  “He was here until about an hour ago. Roger made him go to the lodge to get some sleep.”

  “He’s okay?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Marisa assured her. “He’s tough.”

  Conversation was helping Sophie wake up, clearing her head. She thought through what had happened. She remembered taking off her shoes and sweater … they were gone. She really liked that sweater. She remembered the whale … she’d have to think more about that later. Had it really happened? He was like a wall of blubber with skin like a tire. He’d stopped and looked at her. Then she couldn’t remember anything until she was in Peter’s arms under the blanket. He was trying to get her warm, but her teeth wouldn’t stop chattering—