How to Bag a Billionaire

His tone was way too bland. Olivia knew right down to her tippy-toes that there was a lot more to the story. The set of his lips also informed her that that was all she was going to get.

‘And? What sort of dad was he then?’

Adam shrugged. ‘He was exciting, unpredictable, fun. He taught me how to play poker and how to look out for myself.’

A shadow crossed his eyes on those last words, and Olivia would swear the air had become tinted with a wisp of bitterness.

As if he realised it Adam tipped his hands in the air and smiled. ‘He made me into the man I am today. I’m pretty happy with that.’ The plane started its descent and Adam snapped his laptop shut. ‘And on that note, it looks like we’re here.’

Olivia gazed out the window and for a minute wished that she was here on a holiday, visiting a country she had only dreamed of.

A sigh of sheer appreciation escaped her lips as they disembarked into the incredible warmth of the Thai sun. She shrugged off her light cardigan and tipped her face up to the sun’s rays. Deep warmth suffused her as the sun soaked into her skin.

‘Incredible,’ she murmured as she followed Adam across the tarmac to a waiting taxi. ‘So, two hours and we’ll be on Ko Lanta?’ she asked.

‘Less. I’ve got a taxi booked, and then a speedboat. I’ve got seasickness tablets if you need them.’

‘I should be fine. I haven’t been on many boats, but I’ve never thrown up, either.’

‘It’s a bit bumpy, and you may get a bit wet, but it’s the quickest way to get there.’

The remainder of their trip was achieved in silence, and anticipation built in Olivia with each bump of the car over the long, dusty road. Hope looped the loop in her tummy as she inhaled the salty sea spray and the speedboat skimmed the glittering turquoise waves. The journey was bringing them inexorably closer and closer to Zeb.

A man walked towards them as they stepped off the deck of the speedboat onto the pier at Ko Lanta.

‘Adam. It is good to see you.’

‘Gan. Good to see you, too.’ Adam turned to Olivia. ‘Olivia, this is Gan. He taught me how to snorkel many, many moons ago.’

The small, compact man’s wrinkled face creased further as he smiled. ‘Welcome to Ko Lanta, Olivia.’

‘Thank you, Gan.’

‘Can you take us straight to Zeb?’ Adam asked.

The smile dropped from the elderly man’s lips and he shook his head. ‘Sorry, Adam. Your father is no longer here.’

Leaden disappointment weighted Olivia’s tummy, but Gan went on hurriedly.

‘He will be back. He has gone on a trip. In five maybe six days he said he will be back. But he has taken a boat and I have no way of contacting him. I am sorry, Adam. I could not stop him.’

‘That’s OK, Gan. It’s not your fault. And it could be a lot worse. At least we know he’s coming back. All we have to do is stay put until he gets here.’

All? Olivia bit her lip and tried to suppress the rising swell of panic. More waiting. More time with Adam. On a gloriously beautiful sun-drenched island where there would be no handy distractions. No reporters or charity events or work. Just Olivia and Adam, stranded on an isle.

Adam looked down at her and a rueful smile tugged his lips, as though his mind was travelling the same path as hers. ‘Right now,’ he said, ‘I could do with a drink.’

‘I’m with you on that.’ Drowning her sorrows seemed like an excellent short-term solution. Maybe she and Adam could work out a way to follow Zeb, contact Zeb...something.

Gan nodded at their bags, then at the Jeep parked on the side of the road. ‘Where are you staying, Adam? I can take your bags to the hotel and drop you off if you like?’

‘Gan. You’re the man,’ Adam said, with a smile of genuine affection on his face.

Clearly there was a bond between the two men, which meant Ko Lanta must be a place Adam visited frequently. A pang struck her. Maybe this was his holiday destination of choice. How many other women had he brought here?

Not that the answer mattered to Olivia. In the slightest.

Fifteen minutes later she jumped out of the Jeep, waved to Gan and followed Adam to a bamboo shack beach bar. Wooden benches and tables dotted the golden sand that shimmered in the rays of evening sunshine. The beat of reggae music blended with the lapping of the waves to create an atmosphere so laid-back she could feel her frayed nerves being soothed.

Adam indicated a table and she slid along the sun-warmed teak with a sigh as a bare-chested waiter with a small drum strapped around his waist sauntered across the sand, placed a tray with two frosted glasses of beer on the table and high-fived Adam.