Marooned with the Millionaire

‘I’m OK,’ she said. ‘It just gave me a shock. Reminded me of what’s going on out there and the havoc a storm can wreak.’

They both waited in silence, straining their ears to see if they could hear the noise of the storm.

‘Loss of power isn’t unusual,’ he said.

‘I know. It sounds mad, but I almost forgot the storm is out there. Now...now I can almost hear the howl of the gale.’ She took in a deep breath and shifted slightly closer to him in the darkness. ‘Sorry. I just hate storms. Hate the destruction and tragedy that is going on out there.’

He could hear the raw emotion in her voice and knew that for reasons he wasn’t sure of April was hurting. He wanted to offer comfort.

‘I know, but we can’t control events out there. We have done all we can do, and I don’t believe the storm will get in. My earlier checks indicated that the roof has been constructed with storm proofing in mind. Also, the fact the lounge window didn’t break is a positive. But, worst-case scenario, if the house starts to break up we stick close together. Protect ourselves with mattresses, rugs and blankets, take cover under the table or the bench. OK?’

Maintaining his grasp on her hand, he reached for the torch with his other and clicked it on.

‘We need to conserve the batteries, but let’s find the candles now and then maybe you can teach me a few more games to while away the time. I’m sure I spotted a pack of cards somewhere.’

‘OK. I’ll get the candles. If I’m going to die, I’m damned if I’ll die in the dark.’

‘You are not going to die. Not on my watch.’

‘You can’t promise that, Marcus.’ Her voice was fierce and without compromise. ‘I know you will do everything in your power to keep us safe, but you don’t have power over life and death.’

Releasing his hand, she rose to her feet, pulled out a couple of candles and positioned them carefully on the floor. Once they were lit he switched the torch off and they both gazed at the flickering flames as a light vanilla and rose petal scent tinged the air.

‘You’re right,’ he said quietly. ‘I don’t. But I will do my damnedest to keep you safe.’

Never again would he allow anyone to die if he could prevent it.

‘I know you will—and of course I hope we survive,’ she said quietly. ‘But if we don’t, do you have any regrets? Anything you wish you’d done?’

‘I have plenty of regrets, but there is nothing I can do about any of them.’

There was no hope of redemption when it came to the fire and its aftermath. Yet a sudden image of his adoptive parents came to his mind. Louise and Bill—he’d never once called them Mum and Dad. They had wanted him to but he hadn’t been able to. To have done so would have meant forgetting his birth parents, and he hadn’t been able to do that—had felt he owed them some allegiance after all.

Yet Louise and Bill had been there for him—perhaps not as April’s parents had, but as much as he’d let them.

‘Except... I do wish I’d thanked my parents for everything they did for me.’ When they got back to Lycander he would do that. Not with money, but with words. ‘What about you? Any regrets?’

‘Yes. But the actions and choices I regret are unchangeable.’

For a while there was silence, broken only by the sputter of the candles, and then she turned to him, her face set, her green eyes glittering with intensity.

‘There is one regret I would have if I were to die.’

The softness of her voice fluttered over his skin. ‘What’s that?’

‘You.’ Her gaze didn’t waver. ‘In all the years since Dean I haven’t felt even a spark of attraction for any man. Until you. So if this is my last night on this earth then I want to act on the attraction.’

His breath caught in his throat, the direct honesty of her statement catching him on the raw, and every fibre of his being wanted to enfold her in his arms. But he didn’t.

‘And what if this isn’t your last night on earth?’

‘Then...’ She shifted closer to him. ‘So be it. I will have no regrets in the morning. I want this, Marcus. I want you. On your terms. What did you say you could offer? Short-term physical gratification? That sounds good to me.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes.’ Leaning forward, she oh-so-gently ran her fingers over the crease in his brow. ‘I am sure. I want exactly what you described. Something purely physical and at the end we walk away. I don’t want to die, whether it is now or in fifty years, wishing I’d taken this opportunity to...to feel something. All bases are covered, I promise. No regrets.’

‘No regrets,’ he echoed as he finally allowed his desire out from under the iron control he’d exerted for so long now.