Marooned With A Millionaire

“Until I shot it.”

Now she was really confused. “I don’t understand.”

He rose and tucked the gun into the back waistband of his jeans. “I heard something scrape. I think I just sheared off the damn prop.”

Served him right. “It wasn’t working anyway. And don’t you have a spare?”

Wrong thing to say, Lizzie realized when his steely gaze snapped to hers. Had it not been for the baby, she might have dived overboard and tried to make it to shore on her own.

“This isn’t Oz,” he said in a low, tempered voice. “No magic here. This is serious business, Dorothy.”

Dorothy? Wasn’t he just the funny man tonight. Two could play that pet-name game. “And it called for killing the gondola, Ahab?”

“I did what I had to do.”

Lizzie knew what she wanted to do—sock him. But she deplored violence, and guns, so she settled for a direct verbal assault. “Well, I wish I would’ve brought my little dog, Toto. I would’ve sent him into attack mode. For protection, of course.”

His frown deepened. “You don’t need protection from me, I assure you.” He held up his gun. “I’ve never had to use this before, but it’s necessary when you’re out to sea alone. Unfortunately, I just wasted all my bullets.”

She laid a dramatic hand across her forehead. “For a minute there I thought you might put your poor disabled boat out of its misery, or use it on yourself in a moment of desperation.”

“You thought wrong.” He angled toward her and studied her long and hard. “What you did a minute ago, chasing after me knowing I was armed, wasn’t a very smart thing to do. For all you knew, I could’ve meant to harm you.”

“You could’ve done that by not saving me earlier, but you rescued me anyway. So I figured you wouldn’t murder me, even if you did massacre Bessie.”

“Bessie?”

“My balloon. And that wasn’t too smart, either.”

“It’s an inanimate object, Dorothy.”

“An inanimate object with propane tanks, Ahab. You could’ve blown us back to Kansas.”

He hinted at a smile, but it didn’t form all the way. “You’re right. I wasn’t thinking.”

“And I wasn’t exactly thinking when I rushed at you knowing you had the gun. I only knew I didn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

He took a step closer. “Why?”

A weird question. “Because everyone deserves to live, even if they are a bit cranky.”

He took one more step. “Cranky?”

She couldn’t exactly back up without being obvious, and for some reason she didn’t really want to. “Yeah. Cranky. Not that you don’t have a reason to be a bit put out.” She studied her bare feet, unable to look at him directly, not with him so close that she could count the whiskers on his chin and the character lines around his assessing eyes. “I’m sorry. Really I am. I do appreciate everything you’ve done for me and Hank.”

“Hank?”

She raised her gaze to his and smiled. “My baby.”

He looked as though she’d announced she intended to birth a skunk. “You call your baby Hank? For God’s sake, why?”

“My father’s name was Hank. He died almost two years ago. I’ve never known a stronger, kinder man.”

Lizzie saw a glimpse of guilt in Jack’s eyes before his gaze dropped to her belly. “Then you know it’s a boy?”

“No. I only confirmed the pregnancy this morning, so it’s too soon to tell.” And what a way to celebrate the news, stranded with a sullen sailor. “But I hope it’s a boy. Not that I don’t like girls. I’ve just always gotten along better with men.”

His features mellowed, from staid to a tad less stoic. “That’s good to know considering I’m a man, and you’re a woman, and we’re going to be spending a lot of time together. In very close quarters.”

Had that really sounded like a sexy, sinful guarantee? No way, Lizzie thought. No how. Not her and him. “Then we’re really—”

“Stuck. Together.” A slight smile surfaced. “You and me, babe. Until someone happens to come along.”

First princess, now babe. He had a lot to learn about her dislikes, and she was more than willing to teach him. “I am not a babe, and doesn’t anyone know where you are?”

Any inkling of a smile disappeared from his face. “I haven’t talked to anyone for a year, except for a few people in port, and now you.”

A year? Had he been without a woman for a year? The prospect that her virtue might be in peril momentarily crossed Lizzie’s mind, and yes, somewhat excited her, but he really didn’t seem to be in an amorous mood. Except for his proximity. Except for his eyes. He kept looking at her in a way that made her flesh threaten to crawl up her neck and over her head, pleasantly so. In fact, just thinking about him making love to her doused her whole body in slow, scrumptious heat. How goofy to even consider that. Obviously she had been visited by the hormone fairies.

Lizzie snapped her thoughts back on the situation at hand. “I’m sure Walker will send someone out to look for me.”

Finally, he put some distance between them. Now Lizzie could breathe normally instead of pant.

“Who is Walker? Your car?”

“Ha, ha. The head of the chase crew.”

He looked hopeful. “And he saw you drifting?”

“As far as I know, he did. When I came awake, I tried to contact him but I couldn’t pick anything up on my radio. That leads me to believe I drifted farther off course than I’d realized.”

“You have a radio?”

“I did. It’s kind of submersed at the moment.”

“Then I guess we’ll have to rely on your good fortune.”

“Or yours.”

He looked altogether too serious, and almost sorrowful. “Apparently my good fortune ran out a while ago.”

Lizzie didn’t dare ask what life-altering event had driven him onto his boat, by himself, for months, away from all humanity. She’d already done enough damage for one day; no need to rock the boat, figuratively speaking. “Okay. I’m fairly lucky most of the time.”

“Good, because the last time I checked the weather, there was a storm heading our way. That’s the reason I was returning to port.”

“Until I fell from the sky.”

Finally, he smiled all the way, stripping years off his handsome face. “Yeah, but them’s the breaks. Just as long as you know what you’re up against. The weather could get pretty rough.”