The Maverick Millionaire

Was it the hissing of the lamp or the crackle of the fire or was there some kind of other current in the air that Ellie could actually feel instead of hear? It had all the intensity of a bright light and the heat of a flame and something warned Ellie not to turn her head.

The current was coming from Jake.

She heard him clear his throat. As though he thought his speech might be hoarse if he didn’t?

‘Must have been tough, losing your parents like that. Have you got any brothers or sisters?’

‘Nope.’

‘Husband? Boyfriend? Significant other?’

‘Nope.’ Ellie felt her hackles rise. It was none of his business. He wasn’t about to let her into personal areas. Why would he think she was willing to share?

‘Sorry. Didn’t mean to pry.’ Jake’s voice was flat. ‘I just thought...it’s going to be a long night and it might be kind of nice to get to know each other.’

Did that mean that if she was prepared to share, he might too? That she might even find out the significance of that intriguing tattoo, even?

‘Fair enough.’ But Ellie got to her feet. ‘Let me find us some blankets and pillows first, if they’re useable. And I’ll boil some water. We don’t have milk, but there’s probably a tin of cocoa or something around. We need a drink.’

It was some time before Ellie was satisfied they had all they needed for a while. The fire was well banked up with wood. They both had a blanket and a pillow and, by tacit consent, Jake would have the couch to try and sleep on while Ellie curled up in the armchair. Neither of them wanted to move any further away from the fire.

Exhaustion was taking over now. Her body ached all over and her injured ankle was throbbing badly despite the hastily applied strapping with a damp bandage that she’d found in one of her suit pockets when changing her clothes.

It had been one of the longest days of Ellie’s life and the physical exertion had been draining enough without the added stress of the emotional side of it all. Not only the fear for her own safety but also the grief of knowing that the job was no longer enough to shield her from what she had run from.

Maybe part of it was renewed grief for the family she’d lost. Impossible for that not to be surfacing now that she’d finally come back to a place she’d been avoiding for that very reason.

And maybe that was what made her prepared to talk about it. About things she’d never had anyone to talk to about.

‘I haven’t been here since my parents died,’ she told Jake. ‘It was bad enough when we all came here after Grandpa died and I didn’t want to come back knowing that I had no family left.’ She sighed softly. ‘I didn’t have a boat anyway. I wasn’t sure I wanted anything more to do with the sea.’

‘Hard to get away from, I would think, when you live on an island.’

‘Well—it’s a big island, but you’re right. The home I grew up in is in Devonport in Auckland and it’s right on the beach. I still live there. There’s salt water in my family’s blood, I reckon. That’s why Grandpa took the job as the lighthouse-keeper on Half Moon Island.’

‘The moon... Yeah, I heard you say something about that on the radio.’

‘I recognised it from the air. I spent so much time there when I was little that it’s like part of the family. That’s a picture of it over there, on the wall.’

‘I thought most lighthouses were automatic now.’

‘They are. And Half Moon was automated long before I was born, but Grandpa couldn’t bear to leave it behind. That’s why he bought this patch of land and virtually lived here from when my dad was a teenager. I sailed up with them every school holiday until he died when I was seventeen. And then Mum, Dad and I still came at least a couple of times a year. Having Christmas here when all the pohutukawa trees are in full bloom is quite something. And we could still go over to Half Moon and explore. It’s got an amazing amount of birdlife. It should be a national reserve.’